 As a fervent VHS collector, my life revolved around the pursuit of rare tapes and forgotten treasures. Each find was a triumph, a piece of nostalgia to add to my ever-growing collection. But there was one elusive item that had eluded me for years, the lost Warner Home video logo. It all began with a rumor, whispered among collectors in hushed tones. There existed a version of the Warner Home video logo that had never seen the light of day, a dark secret hidden within the annals of cinematic history. Intrigued by the mystery, I made it my mission to uncover the truth. Countless hours were spent scouring flea markets, thrift stores and online auctions in search of this legendary tape. Most dismissed it as mere myth, a figment of overactive imaginations. But I knew better. Deep down, I could feel the truth calling out to me, beckoning me into the darkness. Then one fateful day, I stumbled upon it, a listing on an obscure website, authoring a VHS tape simply titled, Warner Home Video. The description was cryptic, hinting at something beyond comprehension. Without hesitation, I placed my bid and waited with dated breath for its arrival. When the package finally arrived, I wasted no time in tearing it open, revealing the nondescript VHS tape yet in within. Excitement surged through my veins as I rushed to my DCR, eager to unravel the mystery that lay within. As the tape began to play, I was greeted by the familiar black screen, but something fell off. The air seemed to grow colder, the shadows deeper as if the room itself had become a portal to another realm. Undeterred, I pressed on, determined to uncover the truth. And then it appeared, the Warner Home Video logo, shrouded in darkness, its golden letters gleaming with another worldly sheen. But there was something different about it, something sinister lurking beneath the surface. The camera zoomed in slowly, too slowly, as if reluctant to reveal the horrors that lay beyond. The clouds in the background seemed to twist and contort, forming grotesque shapes that defied comprehension. And then, without warning, a discordant fanfare blared, sending shockwaves rippling through the very fabric of reality. I watched in horror as the logo morphed and shifted, its one sprout letters twisting into unnatural shapes that seemed to writhe with a life of their own. The WB shield logo appeared, but it was warped, distorted into a grotesque mockery of its former self. I wanted to look away, to flee from the nightmare unfolding before my eyes, but something held me captive, a force beyond my control. And as the logo faded into darkness, leaving me alone with my terror, I knew that I had stumbled upon something far more sinister than I could ever imagine. To this day, the memory of that lost Warner Home Video logo haunts my dreams, a chilling reminder that some secrets are better left buried in the depths of the unknown. But as a VHS collector, I know that curiosity will always be my downfall, driving me to seek out the truth, no matter the cost. Screw final hours creepypastas.