The following documents had all been taken from the casefiles of paranormal investigator Everett Moore, generously provided to us by his wife Elizabeth after his unfortunate passing. We believe that digitalizing Moore’s cases will help us in keeping his legacy and impact he has had on the paranormal investigation community […]
I sighed and entered my key into the slot of my apartment doorknob. The grooves and divots slid into place and clicked. As I turned the lock, something caught my eye. A manila envelope. Wedged halfway underneath my door, strings bound tightly around the metal clasps. It made it rather
Forty-Eights Hours To Remember Read More »
Lincoln Oliver Locray, judging by the crimes he had committed alone, was the living definition of a monster. Having spent his formative years somewhere out in the backwoods of Kentucky, raised by a mother and father who took little interest in ensuring he would be particularly educated, he developed a
Into the Void: An Interview with Pure Evil Read More »
I grew up in a small, out-of-the-way town. One of those places where folks only stop by to ask for directions. I know that’s how a lot of scary stories tend to start, but if you think about it, there’s a good reason for that. Before the internet, living in
A sea of infinite darkness. This is my view as I sit outside on my small balcony and gaze up into the night sky. I had not done this in a while. But tonight I watched for hours as the sky shifted from its joyous sea of blue to the
Whoever ran me over on Harrison Drive, better luck next time. I mean that with more sincerity than you’ll probably believe. You didn’t fail because you were careless. You failed because you stopped a few feet too early, hesitated a second too long, or maybe just got unlucky with the
Whoever Ran Me Over on Harrison Drive, Better Luck Next Time Read More »
There’s a legend in my town about the old farm road. Most people pay it no attention, but the old folks swear it’s true. “The Highwayman lurks there,” they say. We scoff and go on. After all, small towns like ours have a ghost story under every rock. This summer,
The cedar smoke from the campfire clutched at our lungs, a thick, gray shroud that seemed to isolate us from the rest of Camp Oakwood. I remember the heat on my face and the prickling chill on my spine. That was the night I met Adam. He was a pale
The following extracts are taken from the journal of Dr Graham Freeland, recovered from the site of Biosphere 217 on the colony world of the same designation. It is published here for the first time:October 7Today was my first day in the dome after I finally crossed over through the
Obsessed with a fairy tale, we spend our lives searching for a magic door and a lost kingdom of peace. – Eugene O’Neill II am in many ways blessed, for I could have been very different. I could have been birthed in the plains of Africa, dancing for the rains
Drip. Drip drip drip. That’s all I can make out, the slow dribble of some far away liquid hitting the floor. The sound around me is muffled, like wax has been stuffed deep within the canals, eating away the vibrations before they reach my core. Each day, is it a
I’m pretty sure my guardian angel is using me. I don’t know how, or more importantly why, but every time they save my life, someone else gets hurt. Growing up, whenever I would ask my Nana what happened to my Mom, she would tell me about my guardian angel. My
I’m Terrifed of My Guardian Angel; He Won’t Let Me Die Read More »
Arknemul descended the last of the switchback stairs and stepped out onto the mud flats that surrounded the pits of depravity, and the smell reached him before the sound did. The smell was old copper and lamp oil and the sour animal stink of ten thousand bodies kept in close
Grow The Sacrifices Read More »
My name is Jamal, and this is my dying declaration. Or maybe it isn’t. I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m not sure if what’s coming for me is worse than dying, or better, or something different entirely. That’s not me being dramatic. It’s just who I am. I’ve
I am the new head barber of “The Seven Scissors.” Please don’t come to our shop. Read More »
I heard the crowd murmur. Men stood outside, drinking coffee, smoking, laughing, reminiscing. Inside woman fawned over fresh babies and children, gossiped and ate lemon cake. It was as if no one had died. They were happy, pleasantness waved over the packed funeral. Still people continued to pour in. The
The Taste of Lobster Read More »
It seemed to go on forever; the trees, all dead, long dead. Dead for as long as the cold had been. They rocked back and forth as the snow came down, creaking occasionally. It was the only sound in the world beside the whipping wind and the crunch of Terra’s
Kevin stared at his new house on woodlock drive. It was a one floor plus finished basement house. It was nothing to sneeze at but for a bachelor like himself it was perfect. Not to mention he got the place for an absolute steal. However it wasn’t the cheap house
The rhythmic creak-crunch of the rusted swing set was the only soundtrack to Mia’s childhood. At nine years old, Mia was a ghost in her own schoolyard. While other children clustered in screaming groups, Mia sat on the black rubber seat of the lone swing at the edge of the
The Crimson Collector Read More »
Read Part One here: https://www.creepypasta.com/blood-moon-bound-in-blood-and-magic/ Read Part Two here: https://www.creepypasta.com/blood-moon-law-of-the-fish/ AS THE WATER WITCH HAD DECREED, a plague soon struck Milham’s Ford. One borne by the river, as she’d foretold before drowning in it, but also by the fields. The very same fruits and vegetables that had refreshed the people
Blood Moon: Law of the Cupbearer Read More »
Entry one:https://www.creepypasta.com/i-drive-a-taxi-between-the-realms-entry-one-dering-wood/ Slow day. I love a slow day. Yeah, time can certainly drag when I’m just driving around waiting for something to happen–someone to summon a ride. But I can’t remember the last time I had it so easy. Sure, I’ve had a few short trips today, each easily
I Drive a Taxi Between the Realms. Entry Two: Tartarus Read More »
I knew I was going to hate it the moment I walked through that door. The cramped entrance hall was already thick with the musty smell of old carpet. I kicked off my boots and stepped into the living room-bedroom hybrid, taking in the depression that seemed to emanate from
The first stages of the trials were carried out covertly in ethics classes, debate forums, and social media accounts across the eastern half of the United States. The director and head of the trials, Doctor Ventura, considered this quite ironic in a way that would have made his bitchy crone
As Humanely as Possible Read More »
The rain from the previous night had cleared up, leaving a damp, heavy silence over the suburbs. In a different house, miles away from the tragedy that had struck Elena’s friends, four new girls—Martha, Naomi, Karen, and Molly—were gathered in a sunroom-turned-den. The mood was already jittery. Naomi had been
The Pale Harlequin Read More »
Let’s take a step back from the quasi-cosmic ramifications of the Great Mouser. Let’s talk about UFOs today. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that Darabont County is the Bridgewater Triangle of Vermont – it seemingly has everything a budding paranormal investigator would want (all unverifiable, of course):
