Creepypasta Stories Sorted by Author

John Watkins warmed himself by the fire crackling in the grate. Orange embers scuttled over the logs, clutched at the brick, stole away like a timid lover. He listened to the low hum of the men ...

I think I’m finally at the point where I’m able to talk about it. It’s been several years since it happened. None of us - not me, nor my friend, brother, or brother’s friend, who also ...

There’s too much choice. I can’t possibly decide. People hurry past me; all sorts of people of different heights and skin tones and shapes and faces. Every single one of them seems to be in a ...

The house had an uneasy feeling about it. Mark had seen it first, and he’d fallen in love with it. She knew that any house she showed him after that would never match up to the ...