I’m not sure why I’m up right now. It’s almost half past one in the morning and the only company I have are infomercials, the sound of my air conditioner on a setting you see as the lowest, but sounds like a fan on the highest setting, and a friend […]
“You should go close your windows. It’s going to rain tomorrow.” said your Dad. You sighed and looked at the clock: 11:20. “Okay” you said, as you felt a tiny twinge of fear spark in your brain. It was an old fear, your fear of the dark. You’ve had it
Shortly after turning 12 my family moved to a much larger, albeit older, house. I had my choice of 3 bedrooms (being oldest does have its perks) and resolved to bunker down in the basement. This decision was based on isolation and being able to hear my parents come downstairs.
As you’re eating dinner, watching reruns on TV, they’re watching. As you sit on your computer late at night, they’re watching. When you walk from your bedroom to the bathroom late at night, you can be certain that they’re watching. They watch everything you do. They listen to every little
I met her by the willow tree, That by itself does stand, Beside the old dirt road that leads, Into a long forgotten land. The road no longer has a name, Its dirt is of the deepest red, That on the days when it does rain, The road appears to
I used to live in New Jersey in an old Victorian, right in the smack dab middle of the boonies. Where I lived, cell phones rarely get reception. Back a few decades ago, when I was a kid, a housing development went up. Big places. They cleared a few miles
Dear Reader, I’d like to start off by saying that I don’t have a clue why I’m writing this letter. Maybe I want this thing to be known to the world, or something. The events described in this letter happened about a month and a half ago, in Springdale, Kentucky,
The time period is the late fifties. Liesel has thick, shoulder-length, dark red hair that curls at the bottom and she wears a pale yellow dress that snugly fits her thin frame and accentuates curves that are not there. The color of her dress matches the wallpaper, which matches the
Do you hear it? That near silent thump, thump, thump that can be heard when all else is quiet? No? Listen, strain your ears for the slightest sound. Do you hear it now? That is the heart beating in the chest of the Warden. He watches, always he watches, looking
This curious item once belonged to the English theatre actor James Fontaine. He was best known for playing the role of Hop-Frog, a jester character from the stage adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s story of the same name. It was during one particular performance in 1922 that he lost his
The Haunted Marotte Read More »
You’d be surprised at how certain things trigger these subconscious responses from deep inside you. Involuntary cues that bubble to the surface whenever that certain thing strikes that precise note. For me it was the creak of that damn door. It’d drive me insane, and no matter what I did,
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Overview Widely regarded as one of the most popular and widest spread Creepypastas ever written, The Russian Sleep experiment is notorious as much for the gruesome nature of its content as for its plausibility. To this day, a large portion of the articles written about the story are attempts to
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Chapter 1 The sounds of people screaming filled my ears and a dull pain was throbbing in my head. I realised I was lying on a cold, hard surface and I had a faint metallic taste in my mouth. I gave a splutter and opened my eyes; they felt like
The following stories come from the diary of the late Michael Tre Dirstrong. The police found this on his person at the scene of his suicide, and dismissed the stories as a result of his “insanity”. You be the judge. February 17th, 2011 I had to move to this house.
Ever since I was young, I’ve been having this recurring nightmare. In it, I’m standing in a dark room, in the middle of a large circle with the symbol of an upside down star in it. A pentagram. The symbol of the devil. I look around confused, as I have
Altera militiae in anti christe Read More »
There was once a guy living in our neighborhood named Jimmy, he got picked on a lot for being a confident and funny guy, his mouth tended to get him into a lot of trouble and he seldom learned his lesson. He was just very content with who he was
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 for it as I believe it will attract more women to my dress shop.
I am the shadows you see at night; the objects in your sleeping room that you see as monsters, unfamiliar faces, or hands reaching out to grab you. I see you as you try to fix your vision, as you try to perceive me as what you think I am.
Hello, your lovely mod derpbutt here~ My co-admin predhead and I have been going through plenty of submissions over the past few weeks since relaunching this website, and we’ve discovered a mutual annoyance: The over-reliance on certain “creepy tropes” that crops up in many submissions. Now, we just shitcan the
July Discussion Post: Worst Creepypasta Tropes Read More »
The memories I have with my Grandmother are very fond. She used to live with my parents and me when I was about six and stayed with us until I went to college. She raised me on many wonderful things such as spontaneous trips to the Natural History Museum, how
You Are My Sunshine Read More »
This is a simple series of journal entries for my own sanity to be held together. I’d just like written proof that this is actually happening to me, you know? Okay, to start, I’m twenty-five, I’ve been living with an amazing girl for the last couple of months in a
Have you ever had the feeling that you were being watched from the darkness? Do you live out in the middle of nowhere, where even if everything was normal, everything would still be creepy as hell? Well, both of those go for me, and when I looked out my window
The hallway was dark, just like all the other hallways she had staggered down. Unreasoning fear filled her mind as she ran. Gasping and crying she leaned against the wall trying to remember which way she had come from. But, the truth was, her flight had been so frantic that
I’m waiting at the bus stop, the rain is falling lightly and it’s just about getting dark. I missed the last bus and now I’m tired and hungry, longing to be in my warm bed with a hot drink. I’m so busy daydreaming that I didn’t notice the little old
The Lost Passenger Read More »
