Brimstone creepypasta

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A brimstone creepypasta is an artform practiced by soyteens where a scary story is read out, usually via a text-to-speech program or AI-generated voice, over an image containing the title of said creepypasta. They are often first-person narratives and feature the most terrifying creatures to ever exist: discord trannies, namefags, and jartycucks.

The 'ru is serving 113 brimstone creepypastas as of November 18, 2025.

The most popular genre of creepypasta is the "x media y mode of transportation" genre, such as the Omori bus, for example.

The first one to be posted on the Booru was made by the user "Redditor"^{[it just is, ok?]} on July 10, 2024, titled DON'T COMMENT "Soytan WNBAG" On the Soy Booru AT 3 AM. A few of the earlier ones were just Pro-Soytan and Pro-Mexico propaganda masked as a creepypasta (hence the "brimstone" in the series name), but later, as more people have started making them, they've evolved into scary tales of the sloppiest jartypedos as you know them today.

Creating a brimstone creepypasta

If you wish to make one of your own, you may use elevenlabs or voicemaker.in (the latter is paid coal hosted on the pajeet top-level domain, alTHOUGH it has the George Floyd Creepypastas voice, "Matthew" (or just use this instead)) for the voice-over (or voice it yourself if you have a good microphone), and any spooky soundtrack will do for the background music, but a number of classics use Yume Nikki and Omori music, which you can get from Jewtube easily.

As for the thumbnail, use something like Krita and use the gradient tool for black and make it on the side and put the title in red text on the darkened side. Below is the average thumbnail. Sites such as Google Drawings and default applications like MS Paint 3D will also work.

Soypasta

Soypasta are a different version of brimstone creepypasta. They are "IAS" versions of regular creepypasta, and are usually written instead of being videos.

As of August 24th 2025, there is only one finished soypasta: Cobson's Suicide.

Readable brimstones creepypastas

This is where you put the scripts of your brimstone creepypastas, until we find a way to put them in their own seperate subpages. Also make sure to add a wrapper so they don't clog up this page.

NEVER GO TO THE JARTY MALL

Hi, my name is Eric Svenson, i am a 26 year old impish male and this is my story. I was watching TV in my home located in Detroit, Michigan. I have been living in this house for a year after moving to Michigan by myself. It was currently a Friday so it was time for me to get some groceries since I was living off pizza, kebabs and other types of goyslop for the past 2 weeks. I got up from my couch and started to walk towards my car, but when I was about to pull the door handle, my cellphone started to ring. When I answered it, my ears were immediately blasted with the sound of incomprehensible yelling in a Indian accent and what sounded like a train horn in the background, before hearing an loud crash and the phone hanged up. "Fucking scammers" I said to myself before entering the driver seat of my car. After it took a while to start the car, it finally started up. I used my phone to find any nearby stores in a 20 mile radius, there was only one shop I could find. And it was called "Jarty Mall". The drive took me through a long maze of ghettos that were filled with shitskins who looked at me angrily. One of them even pulled out a handgun and threatened to kill me because I was Swedish. So i had to drive far away from there as a fast as possible. After driving for some minutes, I have finally reached the "Jarty Mall". I have noticed that it looked like it has been abandoned since the 1970s, and the name of the mall was written on the wall with what I sincerely hope is "brown paint". After parking and locking the doors of my car with my keys, I entered the mall. When I entered the mall, a loud beep played the moment I stepped inside. I thought it was just a metal detector, but then I noticed that there was multiple smoke detectors plastered across the mall's ceiling. "What the fuck?" I muttered to myself while looking around the decrepit mall that felt like it was going to collapse at any second. I started to walk towards one of the most normal looking stands, which was a gaming store run by a skinny latinx man wearing a red T-shirt. I walked up to him and asked for a copy of Gem Defender: Soyjak Survivors. He said something along the lines of "Okay sure o algo" before giving me the game. I proceed to give him a $5 note, and shoved the game inside my bag. Most of the shops were either closed or ran by people of African/Middle-eastern descent selling items such as: awards, stained plushies of famous soybooru namefags, and paintings of slopjaks. So i had to move to the escalator. While I was walking towards the escalator, I saw a tranny fall of the second floor's balcony and land face first onto the floor right next to me. This startled me, but I immediately moved on. The escalator was fucking broken so I had to walk up it like it was a pair of stairs, and reached the second floor. Right infront of my eyes, what appears to be a freshly renovated store with the words "LESOTHO-MART" written above the store with the same brown "paint" that was outside the mall. I've decided that this was where I'll get the groceries from, so I walked inside. The Lesotho-Mart was actually kinda clean, there was famo music playing through the speakers and there was also fresh Mexican goyslop on one of the stands. The clerk appeared to be a obese black man cosplaying as Niko from that one troonslop game that I've forgot the name of. While looking at the foreign foods, I heard a bunch of spics arguing in the soda aisle, so I walked up to them to see what they're talking about. "What the fuck are all of you talking about" I said to them. the fat one started walking towards me while screaming slurs at my face before pulling out a machete, one of the other spics that was wearing a red cap grabbed the fat one and slapped the machete out of his hands. Before I was about to say anything else, they immediately start to fight eachover. The fight got so intense that the obese clerk had to arrive to kick the spics out. He then walked up to me and said "Sorry about that, those mexiaryans do not like anyone that isn't them" in a thick Venezuelan accent. The obese clerk said to me that his name is "Jimbo", and he wanted me to help him "stock up the aisles". So he walked up to a door with the words "EMPLOYEES ONLY" written on it with black sharpie and opened it, revealing a dark corridor. I then proceed to walk towards the door and into the corridor. Using my phone's flashlight, I discovered that the employees only part of the mall was more worse than public areas, there was graffiti all over the walls and also "Mud" stains on the floor. This is when I realized that the mud stains on the floor, and the brown paint that was used for the signs were actually shit. I was disgusted, but when I turned around, the door was shut. I'm pretty sure that bastard named "Jimbo" locked the door also, so I had to go forward. One of the most interesting things I've found while walking around the hallways was a drawing of a slopjak, but that was pretty much it. At the end of the hallway was a Staircase that probably lead to outside, but when I opened it...What I saw was absolutely disgusting. It was a room, roughly the size of a warehouse. The walls, ceiling and floor were covered in shit and piss. There were Jartyflies flying everywhere, and rusty machines producing goyslop and other SNCA stuff. These machines were operated by Africans, the other side of room had Indian scammers typing on computers, and multiple jartycucks doing their average activities. I don't want to tell you what the jartycucks were doing, because it makes me sick thinking of it. But thankfully, there was a open door with a bright light coming out of it. This was my chance to exit this fucking shithole and go outside, but that is when one of the jartycucks spotted me and immediately told the "workers" that there was a intruder inside their secret hideout. So I had no choice but to run past them, but one of them managed to grab me by the arm. But I remembered that I had a pencil inside my jacket which I used to write down the grocery list. I reached my other hand into my jacket and pulled out the pencil, before stabbing the jartycuck right in his left eye. He immediately let go of me while screaming incomprehensible niggerbabble in a Nigerian accent. I then turned around and bolted straight outside the door and into the parking lot. It was like I pressed the Panic button from Nusoi Panic!: Source but IRL. I ran towards my car and jumped straight into the driver seat, and started to drive away from that mall. I am now currently writing this inside the Detroit Police Department's interrogation room after telling the officers about my story and the horrors inside the jarty mall, they have put me under witness protection just in case those Shitskins find out where I live. I'm Eric Svenson, and this is why you should never go to the Jarty mall.

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