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submitted by /u/DoctorManox to r/PixelArt [link] [comments] |
source https://www.reddit.com/r/PixelArt/comments/9jnf2e/my_first_tree_in_pixel_art/
Friday, 28 September 2018
My first tree in pixel art.
source https://www.reddit.com/r/PixelArt/comments/9jnf2e/my_first_tree_in_pixel_art/
![Tallest building in my city in fog. Is it too bright and should I flip vertically back to original orientation? [Exposure][Edit]](https://b.thumbs.redditmedia.com/5T2O6syT4dLmrxydmIcmTfcd-QG_w67RSew38YTBQKM.jpg "Tallest building in my city in fog. Is it too bright and should I flip vertically back to original orientation? [Exposure][Edit]")
Don't Let Strangers Take your Picture
The conversation was normal—until one of the speakers suffered a sudden and violent death.
It began when a young, fresh-faced youth with an old-fashioned camera draped around his neck approached a young woman sitting on a park bench.
“Excuse me, miss,” he began tentatively.
She looked up from her phone, and brushed a lock of blonde hair out of her green eyes.
“Yes?” she said, masking her mild annoyance with a smile.
“I’m doing a photography project for my school,” he said, “and I was wondering if I could photograph you.”
“Oh,” she said. The request seemed to puzzle yet flatter her. She thought for a moment and then said, “Sure.”
“Great,” said the young man, smiling. “Over there by that tree would be best.”
The woman gladly obliged, and the two strode over to the tree together, where the woman posed, somewhat awkwardly, with a smile that was almost genuine.
“Actually,” the young man said, “would you mind moving over a couple feet to the left?”
“Just here?” the woman asked, shuffling over a couple feet.
“Just a bit more,” he said.
She moved over a few more inches and smiled. Two things happened at once: the camera flashed, and the young woman’s head exploded into a bloody pulp.
Suddenly, the world’s volume was turned down.
My heart pounded in my ears. The woman’s body went limp and sank to the grass, spilling blood from her neck in a torrential fountain. The bystanders screamed, and my hands fumbled for my phone to dial 911.
My hands were shaking badly, and I almost dropped the phone into the grass.
After I dialed I held the ringing phone to my ear and looked up. The young man was nowhere to be seen.
I wondered where he had gone, but the thought was driven from my head as 911 operator picked up.
“911,” said the woman’s voice. “What is your emergency?”
But I could not answer. Something was severely wrong with me. There didn’t seem to be enough air in my lungs, and my hands started to feel cold and numb.
I was dizzy now. The world span and the ground rose up to meet my face, smashing my nose painfully. My vision began to swim in darkness, and then there was nothing.
When the EMTs revived me the woman’s body had already been packed into the ambulance and taken away, though the bloodstain remained, a dark stain of brown against the green of the grass. The EMTs said I’d had a panic attack and passed out.
The police took my statement and they sent me home, numb with shock. A few weeks later I found out that the woman had been hit by a stray bullet from someone shooting cans in their backyard a mile away. It was a one in a million shot, they said.
A week later, I saw the young man again.
He wore the exact same clothes, had the exact same haircut and cheerful grin, and the same old-fashioned camera was draped around his neck. I saw him by chance through the window of a restaurant, chatting up an elderly couple who sat in a corner booth.
The silent, smiling conversation did not last long before the young man convinced them to get up and move to another booth. He lifted his camera to his face and... nothing happened.
The old woman smiled and cocked her head to the side, as if she was asking him something. He smiled back and raised a finger, before lifting the camera to his face again.
There was a sound like roaring thunder, and the wall of the restaurant exploded into dust and debris. A truck had crashed through the wall and demolished the old couple’s booth.
The young man stood there as if nothing had happened. He raised the camera to his face, took one more picture, and then turned to leave. He pushed the door to the restaurant open and walked out. He stopped and scanned the street.
His gaze halted on me. The screaming and the chaos faded into silence as his preternaturally blue eyes bored into mine, turning my insides to ice. And then, in a moment, he was gone. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.
I hoped after that to never see him again, but fate did not care much about my hopes. It never does.
I was having dinner with my wife and five-year-old daughter, Sarah, and the air was filled with laughter and the smell of my wife’s baked pork chops and creamed mushrooms. Sarah was telling us a story about a strange man she’d met by the school who had offered to take her picture. She said he had a strange smile and a really old camera like she had never seen before.
My heart sat up and began to beat against the inside of my chest. Trying to maintain the illusion of calm, I set my fork down gently on my plate, and I told her that if she ever saw that man again she was to run. And that she absolutely, under no circumstances, was she allowed to let him take her picture.
“But he did take my picture, dad,” said Sarah. “He wouldn’t let me see it—but he said he’d come show me when it was ready in a week.”
“What?” I gasped. My voice was hoarse and small. My wife was looking between my Sarah and I with a look of concerned confusion.
Sarah seemed to sense that something was wrong, and her chin began to quiver.
“Nothing is wrong, honey,” I said. “Everything is going to be okay.”
The lie struggled out of my throat, and the guilt of it seized my heart and squeezed it tight.
Sarah’s eyes were watery, but she continued what she was saying.
“He said something else, too, dad,” she said uncertainly. “He said it was very important.”
“Yes?”
“He said he wouldn’t develop my picture, if you’d let him take yours. In the park tomorrow at noon.”
A wave of relief intermingled with sadness washed over me, and a tension I hadn’t even noticed dissolved from my shoulders. I could feel the tears standing out in my eyes as I kissed my daughter’s head, taking in a huge whiff of her scent, that scent of pure youth that makes the old feel young again.
I kissed my wife hard on the lips, savoring the taste, half lipstick and half the pork chops she had just eaten.
“I love you Janine,” I said. “And I love you too, Sarah.”
They looked at me uncomprehendingly, concerned, as if I had lost my mind.
I’ve always loved my family more than life itself, and tomorrow at noon, I guess I will have to prove it. Perhaps I can get the better of the stranger, perhaps not.
I don't know what he is, but I know that he isn't human.
Wish me luck.
[link] [comments]
source https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/9jmvj0/dont_let_strangers_take_your_picture/
Do not accept a download of the app “Polterzeitgeist!”
I work as a clerk for a large northwestern law firm that is in the process of preparing a class action suit against the makers and distributors of a mobile app called “Polterzeitgeist! Find that ghost!”. Due to false names and information being utilized in the initial distribution of the application, the search for the responsible parties is ongoing (so that the suit can be properly served on the defendants). In the meantime, I was tasked with going through the available materials and generating summaries and reports for the attorneys working on the case.
What I found scared me enough that I felt that I needed to issue a warning while attempting to maintain some level of anonymity. I will begin by giving a brief description of the app. “Polterzeitgeist! Find that ghost!” was originally distributed through various means online with the publisher listed as [null143325]. It was later discovered that this was not actually the name of any known publisher, but an error message generated when the required information was somehow removed from the databases of the platforms distributing the app. There is no known record of the actual name of the organization or the people behind the app, and as I said, that investigation is ongoing.
The app is described as a “ghost hunting tool” that uses “crowdsourced EVP (electronic voice phenomenon) and sighting reports to provide likely locations for paranormal activity” as well as “activity-driven and streaming rewards for investigations and live-streams”. Basically, the app takes your data and that of others and uses it as a basis for suggesting places to look for ghosts. At the same time, it provides a form of metagame that rewards you with unlockable digital items, cosmetics for your “ghost hunter” avatar, and access to special forums when you post data and when you livestream your investigations through the app.
The livestreaming portion is wholly proprietary, and the app does not work or give any “ghost credits” if you are streaming through another service. Similarly, viewing of a ghost hunter’s livestream must be done through the app itself for optimal results. Attempts to watch someone else’s phone or tablet through a different streaming service causes severe degradation of video quality caused by what our tech guy is calling “intentional random-sequence frequency modulation”. I don’t know what any of that means, but the practical effect is that as of three months ago, there were about 3,000 regular stream viewers using the app in the continental United States. Out of that, nearly 600 were watching Sam the Spookhunter when he was murdered.
Sam “the Spookhunter” Morris was a low-tier internet celebrity for the paranormal investigator crowd before Polterzeitgeist!, but he found a much stronger following as one of the first and best streamers on the app. His first few weeks of in-app streaming were unremarkable by most accounts. Then, on June 29, 2018, he started his stream very excited, saying he thought he had just unlocked a secret location. Included below is my summary of this and subsequent streams that I prepared for work. I do not post this lightly or for entertainment value. But I hope it will serve as a better warning than I alone could provide.
June 29, 2018
Sam begins stream inside his apartment. He is clearly very excited. He says he has somehow unlocked a secret paranormal hunt called “The Dark Path”. He shows the app on his phone, leading to the assumption that he is streaming from another phone or tablet. Given that the app screen is clearly legible, it is to be assumed he was streaming through the app on the tablet.
The app screen says “Welcome to the Dark Path. You have shown bravery and ingenuity in your past investigations, and as a reward, you will be given the opportunity to visit four secret locations that are known for supernatural activities and past atrocities. Are you strong enough to make it to the end?” Below this text, there was the low-resolution map used by the app to guide you to recommended locations. But unlike most users, Sam’s map had a pulsing red star in one corner.
He manipulated the map, sliding towards the star and zooming in. He said that he guessed it was about forty miles away, and he was about to head out. Within ten minutes he was on the road, talking to viewers as he drove toward the destination. At one point he stopped for gas, and it was at this time he caught up on reading the chatroom attached to the livestream. Several viewers had searched online for information based on what his destination seemed to be, and no one had found anything remarkable. It was a quiet street in the suburbs with a small bus stop nearby. This didn’t rule out something interesting being out there, but it was easy to see that Sam was starting to get worried his trip would be a bust. He begins to sing along with the radio and discuss possible fallback things to do on stream if the red star wound up being nothing.
But it wasn’t nothing.
Based on the available information, Sam arrived at the marked location at approximately 10:41 at night. After driving around the area slowly, he eventually parked and tried to zero in on the red star’s location by foot. It didn’t take long for the young man to realize it was taking him to the aforementioned bus stop, which amounted to little more than a pair of metal benches and a small overhang enclosure to keep waiting riders out of the weather.
He entered the enclosure and panned the camera around, his forced excitement turning into something more genuine as he saw something on the edge of one of the benches. Zooming in, there was a small toy skeleton sitting on the bench. Its white, plastic bones and skull had been smeared with something that looked like blood, and based on his reaction to it, it seems likely Sam truly thought it was blood as well. Next to the skull, a red word had been written on the metal:
What
The first video ends there.
July 3, 2018
This video begins with Sam explaining that he was somewhat troubled by what he had found, but he had decided to go ahead with the investigation, noting that a second star had popped up on the map since he found the bus stop. This portion of the video did not seem genuine. It seems likely that, as is a common cliche for both paranormal investigator performances and internet performances, Sam’s fear and reluctance to continue were fake. The obvious reason for this is to generate dramatic tension and potentially make relatively mundane events appear more dangerous or interesting. This is in stark contrast to the earnest emotion he sometimes shows at other points in these videos.
Again, he drives to the location of the star while streaming. This point is closer to his apartment, but it requires him to go into a closed construction site to find the exact location of the star. He appears to be truly nervous about trespassing, but in a perceived attempt at false bravado, he makes a point of moving slowly and casually past several pieces of heavy machinery on his way to a office trailer that had been set up by the construction company.
Using his phone’s light, he searches around the perimeter of the trailer to no avail. Sam then tries looking underneath it, but there was little access and nothing to be seen of note. At this point he seems close to abandoning the search, but after viewing several encouraging messages in chat, he opts to try the doorknob of the trailer instead.
It opens easily, and the interior is dark. Walking in slowly, you can hear his breath puffing nervously as he quickly shines his light around in a desperate search for whatever sign or clue might be there. It only takes a few seconds for him to find the small black cat toy nailed to the back of the door. Similar to the skeleton, it is covered in what looks like blood. Similar to the skeleton, there is one word written in crimson above the tiny stuffed feline:
does
July 5, 2018
This video is longer than the rest, as Sam spends some time at the beginning trying to explain and justify himself in reaction to several criticisms he had received after his earlier videos. Some people were complaining about him doing next to no “investigation” at the locations, likening it more to a televised scavenger hunt than the traditional ghost hunts his viewers were accustomed to. Others noted that he was taking unreasonable risks by following directions from an unknown source that clearly had been to the locations indicated. A handful just called the streams “lame” or hoped “you get your fat ass locked up for trespassing!”
All of this clearly upset Sam, and he awkwardly tried to take up for himself while placating his fanbase. He said that he was trying to play it safe, but that there also just hadn’t been much to investigate other than the items and the words themselves. He did promise, however, that the first place he ran across that looked ripe for really exploring, he would do so.
However, it wouldn’t be that night. The third star was only ten miles away at a public park. Sitting on the edge of a large stone fountain was a tiny clay pumpkin, and as expected, it was smeared with blood or something similar in appearance. This time there were two words:
the ghost
July 12, 2018
This stream also started with a kind of apology, this time for his absence. Sam explained that his father, who lived in the house next door, had recently had a severe stroke, so he had spent the last several days at the hospital and helping his dad transition to a nursing home for rehab. It appears that he is close to tears at this point, but he quickly turns it around by talking about the latest message he received in the app. As before, he shows the screen in the video so the audience can read it.
It said “Congratulations! You have made it to the final turn on the Dark Path. Your final red star location will appear at precisely 9:00pm PST. Good luck!” Despite his earlier sadness, Sam seemed truly excited and nervous about reaching the end of the strange game. He commented that he had twice as many live viewers as he’d ever had before, and it is clear from his conversation with people in his chatroom and his overall demeanor that he doesn’t want to let them down.
He also discusses what the Dark Path could really be. It was clear it wasn’t really a collection of traditional haunts, and Sam agreed with many of his viewers that it was most likely a promotional contest of some type to get the word out about the app. As 9pm came on, he excitedly showed the tablet’s camera the appearance of the new red star. It was only after talking for a few seconds and studying the map that his enthusiasm faded.
The red star was next door at his father’s house.
He gave a nervous laugh when he realized this, and there was a moment when he looked into the camera and you could see real fear in his eyes. But then he seemed to shake it off somewhat and started making jokes about how big a deal he must be if they set up the end of the contest this close to his house. He pauses again as he reads his chatroom, and that fearful, haunted look briefly returns to his face. He says several people are telling him not to go over there. That something wasn’t right and he should call the police.
He seems to weigh the suggestion before rejecting it, smiling nervously into the camera as he gets up to go over to his father’s house. “It’ll be okay, guys, I promise. Besides, I have you all to protect me if it gets too scary, right?”
July 12, 2018 (Continued on second camera)
Based on the change in image quality and comments by Sam, it appears he abandoned the tablet and began using his phone as his primary streaming device for his journey next door. While not explicitly stated, it can be assumed from the circumstances and Sam’s behavior that he wanted less restrictions on his attention and movement during this last leg of the Dark Path, and managing two electronic devices was too unwieldly.
He leaves his apartment and walks next door to a small gray house with peeling paint. After taking a moment to survey the empty street, he walks to the front door and lets himself in. He immediately attempts to turn the lights in the front hall on, but they don’t work. You can hear him curse softly as his breath begins to pick up speed. “Things are finally getting really spooky, guys,” he says with a shaky laugh. After a moment of looking around with the phone’s small flashlight, he moves further up the dark hall.
At this point he has moved past a narrow set of stairs going up to a second floor and has reached the intersection of three doorways. To the left is an open doorway into what looks like a living room from the shadowy glimpses that the camera affords. To the right is a doorway covered by a long curtain—likely a closet or storage area of some kind. Straight ahead is a white door that Sam says leads into the kitchen. He is about to open it when he notices something above the kitchen door.
It is a small ghost that had been fashioned out of dried cornstalk leaves. It wears a small black velvet bow tie, and would have been very cute if not for the blood coating it and the wall around it. Written to the left of the bloody ghost is:
say?
What does the ghost say?
The phone is shaking some by this point, and it seems like Sam might be having second thoughts about being in the dark house by himself. He sits silent for several moments, shining his light around in the dark before muttering the completed phrase as though trying to solve the unknown puzzle of it all.
“What does the ghost say?”
“Boo.”
Suddenly a large form rushes out from behind the curtain to his right. There is only a glimpse of the figure as Sam drops his phone and starts screaming, but it appears to be a massive man wearing some kind of prosthetic or mask to make himself appear monstrous. When the video is slowed down, there is also some indication of a weapon, though it cannot be clearly discerned beyond appearing to be metallic and heavily serrated.
There is a moment of chaos as Sam’s screaming, the sounds of a struggle, and finally a wet, tearing noise occurs off camera. Then the livestream is dead.
The audience of that stream had mixed reactions to what they had witnessed. Many thought it was a joke or a sham orchestrated by either Sam, the app developer, or both. Others were genuinely concerned and called authorities either in their own areas or Sam’s. There was a brief criminal investigation, but no sign of Sam or his phone was ever found. The only reason we even have a recording is due to one of the viewers having figured out a way to record the streams directly from his phone. And Sam’s father died from a follow-up stroke two days after the last video, so there was no one to even file a missing person’s complaint on him. Officially, nothing has happened to Sam.
But how, then, did our firm get involved in it? We can’t file a lawsuit on behalf of a missing or murdered man.
Because since the night Sam reached the end of the Dark Path, five more people have disappeared. Two of them caught on stream, the other three known users of the app but not streaming at the time whatever happened to them…happened. It was only after six people have been lost that it was taken seriously. Complaints were filed, the apps were removed from most platforms, and criminal investigations were started and then stopped again due to claims of insufficient evidence. After talking to three of the families of the missing, our firm started work on a class action lawsuit for any and all parties injured by the app and whatever lies behind it.
The problem is it’s not really over. The app doesn’t need to be widely distributed so long as some people continue using it. We starting getting in reports last week that it uses your contacts to email and text out links to new download sites for the app. As of yesterday, the usage rate was up to over 8,000.
So I’m posting this as a warning. Stay away from the app. Tell your friends and family to do the same. And if you get an invitation….well, I don’t know what to tell you.
I got my invitation by text three hours ago. It was via a friend I haven’t seen since college, but keep up with through social media. I didn’t even know she had my phone number. But now I know she does. That they do. And they probably have much more than that.
I’m giving my notice tomorrow, and I think I’m going to use a burner phone for awhile. Unplug a bit, stay in with the doors locked. Not that I’m worried I’d ever go to visit the ghost. I’ve seen far too much to fall for that.
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source https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/9jm8y8/do_not_accept_a_download_of_the_app/
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