Welcome to Sixpenceee. You’ll find interesting content that ranges a wide variety of topics but our specialty is in creepy/bizarre/horror/paranormal & science. We don't claim any material here unless otherwise stated. For business purposes please contact us at ![Blood Red LipsBy Jack G (awaiting link to tumblr url)Warning: This story contains a hint of goreShe always had this lipstick on, this ruby redlipstick that encapsulated the impression that she gave off, at least that shegave off to me. See, her outfits changed daily and I often wondered whether shewashed her clothes as I never seemed to see the same item of clothing on hertwice. However, the one thing that never changed were how they made her look;graceful, elegant and above all, dangerous. I can’t say she wasHollywood-standard beautiful; she was a little chubby, her hair was short andmessy, her make-up was smudged more often than not, with dark circles under hereyes and a flicker of that mesmerising lipstick above or below her lips. To me,this just made her more enchanting.[[MORE]]I’d love to be able to say that the firsttime I spoke to her was under a stormy sky, or some other dramatic weather thatwould complete the pathetic fallacy of the moment. However, it was yourstandard grey Wednesday morning, with a chilled breeze that makes you wish yourcoat would zip up that little bit tighter. She sat next to me on the bus, and Iturned and smiled at her as she sat down. She glanced at me and smiled back.That smile sticks in my mind; it seemed almost… predatory. I must be amasochist or something, because that just drew me in further. “That lipstickmakes you seem like you could kill a man.” I joked, feebly; what would she careabout my opinion of her make-up? However, instead of snubbing my dumb comment,she laughed. “How do you know I haven’t?”Her name was Evanna, she told me. I said myname was Liam, stuttering and seeming the most awkward man on the planet nextto her easy confidence. She turned to face me, glancing up and down at me asshe did so. Despite the fact that I was wearing a shabby grey hoodie and someformless baggy jeans, my appearance didn’t make her turn away in disgust of mylack of style. I guess she knew that she had enough of that for the both of us.I told her I’d seen her on this bus before a few times. She smiled, and said she’dseen me looking at her before. Electric ran through my veins; how do I savethis now? Now that she knows that you’ve been looking at her, now that sheknows that you’re a creep? Clearly this feeling of shocked horror showed on myface, as she laughed and said “Don’t worry; I was looking back most of thetime.” I chuckled weakly, and stammered “Hope you like what you’ve seen.” Shesmiled that same smile again in answer.Evanna and I continued to speak on the busfor the next few weeks, small talk usually on my behalf, questions on hers.Where did I work, what did I like to do, who my friends were. Of course Ianswered; by this point the tendrils of Evanna were entangled through my brainand I’d have given her anything she asked. I was infatuated, that intensefeeling of desire that so many teenagers mistake for love. Despite my dorkylooks, my obvious lack of anything resembling cool, and my half-terror offucking up every time she looked at me, I actually thought I had a chance here.Evanna got on the bus two stops after me, so it was down to her to choose tosit next to me. Which she did, everytime the seat beside me was free. I asked after her as well, but she alwaysdismissed my questions with a laugh and a look into my eyes that made metremble. I didn’t mind; as I said, I was infatuated. Of course I wasn’t goingto let something as small as shutting down every attempt I made to get to knowabout her ruin this tremulous friendship building.A month after that first conversation, sheasked me to get off at her stop.I’d been at a job interview that day, so Iwas wearing my suit. Nothing expensive or particularly nice, just a standardblack trousers, black blazer, white shirt combination. I was certain that thiswas why she had asked me to join her though. ‘He’s not looking like he crawledout of the gutter today, maybe he’d likea drink’. She led me by the hand down a kind of dilapidated street, sayingnothing when I spluttered out “So you live down here?” just smiling andcontinuing to lead me. Of course I had internal warfare over what a stupidquestion I’d asked. She took me to a faded blue door about three-quarters ofthe way through the street and took me inside. It was not at all what Iexpected her to live in. From her constantly changing wardrobe, I’d thought shewas quite wealthy, but the house was in tatters. Torn up wallpaper, bare woodenfloors that hadn’t even heard of a broom. I sat down warily on a creakingwooden dining chair while she got herself a glass of water. “So, uhm, what do you wanna do?”She turned towards me and smiled. Not herusual half-mouthed smirk, but a full, toothy grin. Her teeth were weird. Theyseemed too thin, almost too long for her mouth, and they shone like polishedpearls. “I was thinking of getting something to eat,personally.”As she leapt on me, I remember thinkingthat she’d said her very first clichéd phrase. Of course, it was better tothink about that than about the fact that I’d shat myself in front of the girlI’d hoped to seduce. See, the weirdest thing about the entire thing, weirderthan the fact that she was currently gnawing through the arteries in my neck,was that it barely fazed me. I accepted it as just another quirk of thisbeautiful girl. Afterwards, as she climbed off of me and I began to fade awayinto the abyss, I saw her wipe my blood from her face.Except for on her lips; she just used thatto replenish the slightly faded red.———–“That weird girl I was telling you aboutgot on the bus again today. I mean, she’s got some weird taste but I swear shewas wearing the same suit as the guy she got off with yesterday.”“Ah I’m sure you’re just imagining thingsJim.”“Yeah probably. Y’know, I think I have abit of a thing for her. She’s got this magnetic thing about her.”](https://sixpenceee.com/files/ca5634faf64098f2a2d25f12e8d17c9a/tumblr_np8ruizxls1s1vn29o1_500.jpg)
Blood Red Lips
By Jack G (awaiting link to tumblr url)
Warning: This story contains a hint of gore
She always had this lipstick on, this ruby red
lipstick that encapsulated the impression that she gave off, at least that she
gave off to me. See, her outfits changed daily and I often wondered whether she
washed her clothes as I never seemed to see the same item of clothing on her
twice. However, the one thing that never changed were how they made her look;
graceful, elegant and above all, dangerous. I can’t say she was
Hollywood-standard beautiful; she was a little chubby, her hair was short and
messy, her make-up was smudged more often than not, with dark circles under her
eyes and a flicker of that mesmerising lipstick above or below her lips. To me,
this just made her more enchanting.
![Forbidden Fruitby reddit user GotMyQuillWeaveDidSarah missed the taste of her favorite candy. Creamy and chocolatey and salty; every Easter a basket overflowing with it, every Christmas a stocking bulging with it. But now, none of it. Mommy and Daddy said no more, not ever, not for a long time. Find something else, sweetie, there’s other candies out there.[[MORE]]She didn’t want other candies. She still saw her friends at school with them every day, sneaking bites when the teacher didn’t notice. What had she done that they hadn’t? Was her spelling not good enough? Was she not taking good enough care of her goldfish? What had changed? They said she wouldn’t understand, they were just bad now. Nobody in the family could have them anymore.If Sarah’s teacher knew why, she had forgotten; a perfect math score was awarded something more precious than gold, the golden foil of a perfect little cup. She saved it, and she savored it on the bus home, taking slow, tiny bites, and hurriedly discarding all the crinkled evidence in a trash can before she got home.The taste of the candy still fresh in her mouth, she bent down upon arriving home, to give little baby Jojo a kiss on his big pale forehead.By the time mommy returned from the kitchen, alerted by Sarah’s confused cries, his head was red and lumpy, then purple and hot in the car, and finally grey and cold, at the hospital.From that point on, Sarah was allowed to have peanuts again. Too bad she didn’t want them anymore.](https://sixpenceee.com/files/07dedab5d79992a7d83137415ab371df/tumblr_nox5d2medw1s1vn29o1_500.jpg)
![Julia Was a Clever Girlby reddit user IPostAtMidnightJulia knew she was smart. She was one of those clever children, the kind of child who figures out early on that parents aren’t all-powerful and all-knowing.[[MORE]]The first time she realized this was when she got scared. There had been a noise in her room, coming from under her bed, or from the closet.Julia ran down the hall, crying, “Mommy! Daddy!”“What’s wrong, honey?”“I huh-heard a m-monster,” Julia glubbed.She expected them to comfort her, or roll their eyes, or get annoyed. Instead, they jumped up immediately and raced to her bedroom, where they checked under the bed, inspected the closet, and tested the window lock. They poked, prodded, and scoured every inch.Julia caught on quickly. She knew what they were doing. By taking her fears seriously, they were showing their little girl that she was safe and loved. They had probably read about it in some book.But the lesson Julia learned was that she had power. Thereafter, waking her parents became a nightly event. Julia would scream and cry, they would rush to her bedroom, and Julia would hide her grin behind tears. But not once did they ever complain.One night she could stand it no longer, and she burst out laughing when Daddy fell down while examining the light fixture, as if a monster could fit up there.“What’s so funny?” he asked, rubbing his backside.“You,” Julia smirked. “You always believe me.”Daddy wasn’t angry. He just looked at Mommy.“Once,” he said quietly, “just once, we didn’t believe your brother.”And Julia, an only child, did not sleep well that night.](https://sixpenceee.com/files/2830963e9445d2fba6d03418498c3821/tumblr_nokznmjsob1s1vn29o1_500.jpg)
![My Southern Grandma’s AdviceBy reddit user VitruvianMonkeyWhen the air was still out amongst the pine trees, and even without wind, things seemed to shuffle and rustle through the brush, we children would start to talk of the unnatural gait of the long deceased come back for Sunday supper. My grandma always had words of hard-earned experience, though, to soothe our fears.[[MORE]]“Don’t be afraid when the dead come a-calling, for people are mostly good, and the dead are just people a little farther down the road. It’s when the things that were never alive in the first place show up that you start worrying.”](https://sixpenceee.com/files/c77e5037e3d3ae7bd7f428df4ed18f4b/tumblr_noh9xpcgvv1s1vn29o1_500.jpg)
![Djinnby reddit user ecroweA real Djinn can be indistinguishable between you and me, not like the one portrayed in Aladdin. You do not need to rub a lamp for it to appear. In some cultures, they believe that these beings have free will and they certainly do not have to be benevolent.[[MORE]]He was a friend, the only type of friend a guy who spends all his time drinking down the pub can have. The man on the bar-stool next to me, knocking back shots as fast as I did.When my daughter died, anger consumed me. Her car was found at the bottom of a canyon. The police report said there was no sign of collision on what was left of the car - the verdict was suicide. I didn’t believe that. My little girl was not depressed, she was the only family that still visited me, she was my rock.“I just want to know what happened to her,” I said to the man next to me.“Your wish is my command,” he said, downing a shot of neat vodka.Bright light hurt, I turned and shielded my eyes. The light flashed as the car sped towards me. I froze and winced. The tyres shrieked as vehicle veered to the left to avoid me. Time seemed to slow, I briefly clocked the terrified face of the woman driver. The car left the road, rising slowly before plunging into the ravine below.I gasped.“Be careful what you wish for,” the man said staring at me, before slamming the shot glass onto the bar, “Barkeep, hit me again and one for my friend here.”In case you didn’t understand: The man’s daughter died in a car accident, and he wished he knew why. A wish-granting genie granted his wish, and sent him back in time to witness it. He caused the accident by suddenly appearing in front of her and making her swerve.](https://sixpenceee.com/files/2708a7563f30cd172043d358b3e81ab6/tumblr_nogrzpfvzw1s1vn29o1_500.jpg)
![We Bought My Grandmother’s Houseby reddit user grasshopper_joA few years after we married, my husband and I bought and moved into my grandmother’s home. It was the perfect arrangement. My grandmother was a new widow at the time. [[MORE]]She’d recently had two strokes, and couldn’t move around the way she used to. This way, we could keep the home in our family for holidays and occasional visits, and she could move into a smaller, more supportive apartment.Soon after the purchase, hubby and I visited her in assisted living. We thanked her for helping us buy the house, and reminisced on all the memories that took place there. The basement was partly finished, and I told her I planned to work out of one of the rooms for my office.“Oh,” she said. “The one with the paneling? That used to be my office.”“What do you mean?” I said. I’d never heard of her working from home.“In the sixties, before I was a social worker for Planned Parenthood,” she recalled, “I counseled girls in that office. They’d come in through the cellar door. The entrance was in the backyard, so it was hidden.”I raised my eyebrows. “Really? Like, girls would sneak in to talk to you?”“Most of them wanted a sympathetic ear. Some of them wanted birth control without their parents knowing. I knew a few doctors who gave me pre-written prescriptions with just the names blank, so they wouldn’t have to go in. Some of the girls were already in trouble and looking for help. There weren’t a lot of places you could go back then. So I’d help them make the call to the few doctors who performed the…services they needed.”“Are you serious?” I said. “Our house was a hidden teen pregnancy counseling center?”“Ohhh, people got mad,” she said, with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Boyfriends…parents…one time, someone even wrote an opinion piece for the paper. It was angry. They called me by name. They said I deserved what was coming to me. But nothing ever happened.”Holy shit. My grandma, the rebel. Standing up for women’s rights like a boss. As we drove home, my husband and I marveled at how progressive she was.*The house caused a little friction at first. Hubby wasn’t quite ready to move into it, and it’s a huge 1890 Victorian that requires a lot of maintenance. But I have good memories here, and we grew to love this town. It’s the kind where you see people you know all the time. The elderly, slim, moustachioed man who knows your butcher order by heart. The girl stocking shelves at the library who also rings up orders at the hardware store part-time. The lady who just makes ends meet with her soap shop. This is one of those places with a single post office, where the town hall shares a building with the police station, and everybody is someone else’s cousin or knows someone who is.I set up a cool little office in the basement. I work from home, and hubby worked long hours, so most of the errands and housework fell to me.I quickly fell into a routine, making a small morning stop at the small grocery store, pausing at the diner for a cup of coffee and a slice of pie to keep for after lunch, occasional walks with the dogs at the park, visits to the bookstore. After three moves in as many years, I finally felt like I’d found home.In such an idyllic small town, it wasn’t long before hubby and I thought to increase the population with some kids of our own.*Three years. Three years later; many of our friends were having kids, and we were still childless. Finally, after some invasive and expensive tests and procedures, the pregnancy test came up positive.We’d never been good at keeping secrets. We’d go for walks on Main Street, chattering about names, about how our dogs would react, about how he’d probably be the tough parent. After a month, we let it out on Facebook. We got likes from all of our friends. Things finally felt the way they were supposed to be.I still remember telling him about the pregnancy.And I remember losing it.Or him, or her. I don’t really know. It was just a shock of blood, and calls to the ER, and a lot of crying. A LOT of crying.After the dust settled, we were numb. We couldn’t manage conversation. For the first time, my husband and I were at a loss for words when we were with one another. And then one day, I was doing dishes - I still don’t quite know what triggered it - I asked him to do some small errand, and it was as though all the tension from the years of trying came back with a vengeance.He told me it had to have been something I did. I must have lifted something heavy, or eaten something I shouldn’t have. I took hot baths. Aren’t you not supposed to do that? Didn’t he tell me to be careful?He threw a plate at me. It flew past my head and hit the wall.It seems like a big house without him inside of it, now.*I haven’t left the house much since then. Not much reason to, and to be honest, I’m a little afraid that if someone asks where he is, I’ll just bust out crying. I’ve poured myself into my work. Wake up. Let the dogs outside. Make breakfast. Work. Lunch. Work. Reddit. Work. Get the mail.Get the mail.The mail.I opened the mailbox today to find a small, cardboard box, like the kind business cards come in. It was neatly lettered with my address, and no stamp. However, it wasn’t labeled with my name. Above the address, it said “To: the granddaughter of Betty Hayes.”I opened it. Inside was a small, white plastic bottle. I opened it and turned it over. It was empty. I looked at the label on the bottle. It was a prescription label, with a name I didn’t recognize. The name of the drug was “Mifepristone”.I looked inside the box. There was a small, neatly folded piece of paper. I unfolded it. In shaky, lower-case letters, the handwriting read:“She took ours. I took yours.”I flipped it over.“Welcome to town.”](https://sixpenceee.com/files/933b43df48e0100a6756cf2e1b3b2c4a/tumblr_no9r5rkeuw1s1vn29o1_500.jpg)
![What They Don’t Tell You About The Deadby reddit user CrimsaiI don’t want to sound mean, but the dead are pretty clueless. I’ve always seen them. When I was younger everyone thought I was just talking to imaginary friends. [[MORE]]After a couple years, when I overheard my parents talk about calling a psychologist, I realised what I was talking to. See, ghosts don’t tend to realise they’re dead, and they don’t look like in the movies, they look just like us.I’m pretty smart for a 13 year old, so I started noticing certain patterns to tell them apart from the living. They could be a bit distant from living people, or you’d see them try to talk to people who wouldn’t even notice them. Some of them could tell I was different, that I noticed them. Like this guy I saw after school yesterday. I’m a big boy now, see, I don’t need my parents to pick me up, home is just a short walk away. He was standing away from the other parents, didn’t talk to them, just stared at me, that’s how I knew he was one of the ghosts. I went over, told him I knew what he was and asked how I could help him. I don’t remember much after that, I think because of what happened this morning.Downstairs, my parents were crying. I tried talking to them but they ignored me. They must have died last night somehow, sometimes the new ghosts wouldn’t talk to me. Some police officers and reporters just arrived, they won’t talk to me either, just my parents. It’s weird, I’ve never seen so many ghosts together before. Why won’t anyone talk to me?](https://sixpenceee.com/files/b433a2682b67a1b7adc790b1ad1a3e1e/tumblr_no48dy8e2v1s1vn29o1_500.jpg)