Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction



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Halloween Giveaway!

Once again, is having a small Halloween raffle!

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Latest Video Pasta

Post-Its by Ciaran Lovejoy / CreepyPastaSr

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Discussion Post

Join us for the October 2014 discussion post - this month, we're talking all about Halloween!

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Locations & Sites

I won’t bore you all with the details of my work, that can be for another time. What is important is that I have made the decision to share my case files with the general public. Most of the cases I’ve been involved in have revealed themselves to be distinctly ordinary, or tangled up in lies, hoaxes, and even mental illness. But there are a few instances which I continually come back to. In the quiet hours of the early morning, these are the facts which weigh down on me and keep me from sleep.

I don’t know if this is just a form of self therapy (I definitely could use some) but perhaps some of you who are fascinated by the bizarre, and are compelled like myself to discover what’s truly out there beyond the humdrum world we seem to live in, that you might find the following case studies of some use.… Read the rest

Murder is an incredibly human concept, when you think of it. All species kill; to protect their young, to cull those unfit, most often in order to stay alive- everyone needs to eat.
And yet, in nature, all causes of death are natural. We exist simply for existence’ sake. All victories, large and small, all worlds we build- everything we do, will die. Of course, it might be remembered, for a little while, by other, equally perishable beings. But, in the end, existence will cease to exist. That is the way of the world. All things come to an end. Eventually.… Read the rest

I’ve always liked old horror movies, but I never really was a silent film enthusiast. I just found them too artsy and strange to really enjoy. It’s like watching a talkies era movie where everybody has been replaced by mimes and with awful camera quality. Though you have to respect movies like Nosferatu and The Golem for still being so iconic and getting Blu-ray releases, and thanks to internet forums I do have some knowledge on the matter.

Anyway, have you ever heard stories of those obscure Eastern-European museums that supposedly house all kinds of long lost prints? I did. And I thought it was unlikely too.… Read the rest

I’ve often thought it likely, though have no way to really prove, that in every sizable town in America there is at least one area that feels a bit strange somehow. Maybe it’s a single building that was witness to a grisly murder or maybe it’s a slum full of forgotten people with forgotten dreams. Either way, those who set foot in the area will often describe an overhanging sense of sadness or malaise or even evil. This is, of course, far from a rational feeling and yet when even animals seem to avoid the area or cars consistently break down there, it makes even the most skeptical observer start to wonder.… Read the rest

You know that new kind of burger? The one made from cells taken from the skin of cows. Yeah, seems like the science teams and research labs finally created a way of making food from basically nothing, and you’d think that’d be a great thing, but I’m not so sure.

This isn’t the first time a project like this has sprung up. You’re probably thinking I’m screwing with you now, but I’m serious, it’s happened before. You’ve probably never heard of this, and like all things, there is a reason for this never being told. A rather… disturbing reason. Way back, into the Second World War, The Russian government realized they were struggling to feed their people.… Read the rest

The McCarter House in Greenburg, TN is fairly well-known by now, but at the time that my wife and I were looking to buy it, it was only infamous to the locals and we knew nothing about it. It is a pale, white farmhouse on a bald hill just off Baden’s Road in the Walnut Creek area of town. It might still be there, but hopefully it had been torn down by now. If you decide to go there, listen to this story as your word of warning first, and do not go
there during a full moon.

The house had been the scene of a horrific battle during the Zombie Apocalypse.… Read the rest

They called it the doll cemetery. It was a small valley, barren and deserted, behind a hill that hid it from the sight of the town. Nothing grew on its arid soil; the few trees that had tried were long dead, turned into wooden skeletons that stretched their hooked fingers to the sky above.

The reason for that name was clear to anyone who visited the place. It had indeed the grim, gloomy air of old cemeteries, completely uncomforting. However, its guests were not underground, neither walled in narrow recesses. They stood in plain sight, fully exposed to eyes and weather.… Read the rest

Okay so my story is actually one my grandmother told me about a house near where she grew up. I think she was about twelve when it happened so it was probably around nineteen thirty three? Thirty four? So she grew up in South Carolina, kind of out in the middle of nowhere, and if you went even further out, past the main shops and through the back roads and aaall the way out where there was nothing but woods and grass- there was a family who built a house out there. She said they hunted deer and squirrel and that’s pretty much all they ate.… Read the rest

Whenever Gideon said something like “This is going to be fucking awesome” the end result was, inevitably, disaster. But that was ok. Aidan loved disaster.

So when Gideon showed up on that gleaming summer Thursday morning and asked if he wanted to do something, Aidan immediately said yes. The repetitive buzzing hum of the Arizona suburbs bothered him less when the boring reenactments of days prior were brokered with the faint illicitness of Gideon’s minor transgressions.

” Where are we headed?” Aidan asked, forgetfully adding “bitch” at the end of his question. Their skateboards rattled past the identical houses. The mailboxes tried out as extras for “The Persistence of Memory” in the morning sun.… Read the rest

I want to set down recent events in my life, because I’m afraid that this may be my last chance. To begin with, my name is Leon Cowles. I was born in Provo, Utah, although I have lived most of my life here, in Portland, Oregon. I’ve always been a rather intellectual person, preferring books and video games to basketball and football. In grade school I was a loner, and had few, if any friends. In middle and high school I began to read fantasy novels and mild occult books. At first just that wiccan fluff that, if anything, keeps people from learning anything of real importance or historical accuracy.… Read the rest

On June 4th, 1983, my high school was one of many that took us to Disneyland for Grad Night. If you’ve ever been to Disneyland on Grad Night, you know how much fun – and how crazy – it can be. The park stays open extra late, the skippers who drive the Jungle Cruise boats let loose and tell dirty jokes, and there’s plenty of opportunities for people to sneak booze and weed in. Getting a bunch of amped high schoolers in Disneyland is one thing, but with a nightlife and party atmosphere behind it, things can get pretty nuts.

My two friends and I, Anaheim locals, were particularly excited.… Read the rest

This is a small collection of video pastas. If the embedded videos do not display for you, please click the links – they go to the individual video pages on YouTube.

Sticks and Stones

The Bookmobile

The Cecil Hotel

In The City

1 New Voicemail

For more Frosted Mini Fears, see the original post here, the follow-up here, or visit the FrostedMiniFears YouTube channel.

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This is a small collection of video pastas. If the embedded videos do not display for you, please click the links – they go to the individual video pages on YouTube.


Pure Evil

Creepy Pasta


The Reunion

For more Frosted Mini Fears, see the original post here or visit the FrostedMiniFears YouTube channel.

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Anne was new to the city, and she knew without a doubt that it wasn’t the place for her. She was used to winding country roads, gentle breezes on the porch, and the rustle of the wind through the trees. Here she was simply surrounded by angry drivers, angry cyclists, angry pedestrians, smog, car horns, bus horns, train horns, and the unshakeable shadow of looming skyscrapers. In this giant city, she was beginning to feel terribly claustrophobic, and the ink on her lease was barely two weeks old.

She trudged home through the crowded streets with an armload of groceries weighing her down.… Read the rest

(The following was found in an envelope on a bus bound for Chicago)

My name is Jason Grimes and I am writing this so that when the room is eventually opened people will perhaps understand the things they find within it. And so that I will not be thought of as the madman that part of me already fears I am.

It all began with the reading of the will. My mother (My only living parent left) had passed away due to a heart attack in her New England home. Her body had been found by one of the women who came to clean every few days and the news had not come as a shock to any of the family.… Read the rest

I can’t sleep. I have to share because maybe I won’t feel if I share. Dr. Kirsch says to write and get it off my chest. Writing about it might release me from it. What should I title this? “Therapy”?

I’m currently seated at a computer terminal in a little, white, sterile room. There’s about a half dozen other computer terminals here, all facin the same way like a classroom. There’s posters on the walls with medical information. Everyone in em looks happy and complacent. Zombies. This place is called Sleep HealthCenters, just outside of Boston. It’s a clinic for people with sleepin disorders.… Read the rest

This all began with a family trip to Las Vegas; the year was 2009 and we decided to go on a little vacation for my 20th birthday. Now that I think about it, why couldn’t my parents have just waited a year and made the Las Vegas trip at my 21st birthday? Going to Las Vegas as a 20 year old is like going to an amusement park when you’re too short to go on all the good roller coasters. I’m an only child so was just my mother, my father and myself. As residents of Southern California, we decided to make the drive out there in our minivan instead of paying for airfare.… Read the rest

There is a town in the Deep South that is spoken of in whispers around campfires and by drunks in bars. No one knows its exact location, as those who have been there can’t agree on where they were when they arrived. Its location has been speculated to be in dozens of different counties throughout Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama. The only thing any of the visitors can agree on is that each of them were lost when they drove past the aged wooden sign proclaiming; “Welcome To Sandalwood”. To the best of anyone’s knowledge, no one has ever found Sandalwood on purpose.… Read the rest

((Author Note: The following explanation of how to get to Brach’s is true; I’ve been that way. Go if you dare, but don’t enter. Seriously. If you would like to skip to the inside of the factory, simply search for *****))

The train sped down the elevated tracks. I saw the Brach’s Candy Factory from several blocks away. Such was the enormity of the buildings, a reminder of more prosperous times. It had been the American Dream made tangible in the early 1900s all the way up to the ‘80s. The great red fortress had once produced tons of candy, the most in the country in its heyday.… Read the rest

I always admired my grandfather’s courage. He had fought in the war on what we nowadays think of as the wrong side, but he had never been a believer in the cause. Sometimes a rifle is pressed in your hand and your choice is either to fire and worry about being shot from the front, or not to fire and be sure that you’ll be shot from behind.

He was young when he was drafted, barely 16. Before he left he gave his first kiss and a promise to a girl. She waited five years until the end of the war, surviving on just five or six letters that she kept as treasure.… Read the rest

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