Creepypasta Stories – Sorted by Title

Donna Ball woke at 7:15 as she had done every weekday for the past ten years. Tired eyes struggled to stay open, and as she heaved herself from her tacky chintz covers her reflection caught her ...

I sat quietly, sipping my glass of wine and wishing desperately that the evening would come to an end. Two of my friends, Brad and Laurie, had been invited to a get together with another friend ...

You are home alone, and you hear on the news about the profile of a murderer who is on the loose. You look out the sliding glass doors to your backyard, and you notice a man ...

''What scares you?" Josh asked looking around the table. All other conversations stopped and the attention focused on him. He sat up a little straighter and grinned; he knew he had the floor. They sat outside ...

Things had been tough for my mom and I, ever since my dad left us two years ago. At least I was old enough to get myself to and from school and I new my way ...

“I want you to know I'm not crazy. What I tell you in this office today is just to clear my head so I can get past all the damn nightmares. Past the demons” Joshua stated ...

It's just a legend. But...I suppose...that's what most of those unbelievable things turn out to be...legends. I heard this legend from my grandmother. I asked her about it when I saw her drawing the Easter Island heads on a ...

The days all started with the briefing room—a wall-to-wall palette of aged pastels and stark, hospital grayness. In the center of our little room, an oval-shaped table dominated the space with every seat filled with a ...

I found this note on the job. It was titled The Man Who Brought Happiness. *** I was at my lowest point. My bruises were fresh. As an only child I longed for siblings early on ...

Have you ever been down to Brantford? It’s not a bad place to live, although there honestly isn’t that much to see. So much is just abandoned, or so old you can’t even imagine what it ...

He couldn't see, or so I thought. How wrong I was. Nothing seemed wrong when I met him. My parents said it was normal for kids to have imaginary friends, but he didn't seem so imaginary ...

The man who lives above you is the quiet type. How lucky you are to live in an apartment underneath someone so courteous! It seems he never drops anything, seeing as how you never hear any ...

Before you read or listen to this, make sure you are alone. If you are in a room, close the door. If you are by a window, look outside and make sure there is no one ...

John Woodford in his first moments of returning consciousness was not aware that he was lying in his coffin. He had only a dull knowledge that he lay in utter darkness and that there was a ...

Rumor had called this section in the vast city where I found my dwelling Old Hope, and it was often said that dreams of industrializing and modernizing the untamed Western coast had been rooted here by ...

Bridgewater state prison and penitentiary was built five miles from the nearest city, on an otherwise empty expanse of prairie. The tall towers surrounding the inner perimeter stood like silent sentries guarding the concrete cellblocks built ...

The playground at Kind Street park was always empty, but I didn’t know why. I’d never played there before, only driven or walked past on my way somewhere else. It was nice enough, if not a ...

I want to tell you the story of a bizarre thing that happened to me five years ago. It was what you might call a life changing experience, a metaphorical kick in the balls that put ...

I think it’s cute how my daughter, Ryan, has such a vivid imagination. She always thanks me for carrying her to bed after she falls asleep on the couch. But I never do that, so I ...

June 1st 1922 Dear Journal, Today my mother bought a mannequin for me to put my products on in the store window. It is unusually heavy for a mannequin, but a mannequin nonetheless. I am thankful ...

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 ...

Let me start by saying that I’m no professional storyteller. I just have a story to tell. Every summer my parent’s would drive from our home in rural Lincolnshire, to our holiday home in a little ...

To begin, I do not condone any actions that I myself do not directly commit while working here at The Agency. My peers, superiors, and comrades are responsible for what they do. Not that I still ...

The nonstop pitter-patter of the cold rain against my bedroom window, set the mood. I found myself rubbing my eyes unable to follow the now swaying lines. My book was a jumbled mess of dyslexic text ...