We stand in the overgrown lot, staring at the cluttered remains of the large wooden building in the deep reaches of the West Virginia Mountains. Nature had taken most of the area back, with just a few remaining structures of the old town left. If you didn’t know it, you […]
The Old Mine Shaft Read More »
The frontier, that section of the world where the roots are soaked by blood and tears rather than rain. Grampa told many stories: the be the immortal, mist-swimming striga, the covens of witch and warlock, or my own least favorite yet most constant nightmare appearance: The trees of skin and
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
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
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 »
If you are reading this, then I am more than likely dead. I want you to understand something before you read any further. I am not a dramatic person. I am not the kind of man who makes things up or tells tall tales to get attention. I have lived
Spring had arrived with the aroma of cherry blossoms, gentle zephyr, peace and lots of greenery..Occasionally a short, gentle and warm rain..A neighborhood in a splendid area, where most of them were characters with a lot of talent, but also former owners who had won their claimed houses, who had
Waylan stood in the dim light of the early morning, his truck parked at the edge of a forgotten dirt road. He bent down and laced up his knee-high snake boots, pulling the strings tight to make sure they fit just right. The boots were tough and made for rough
I do not tell this story to people anymore because nobody believes the story about the fire lookout tower. Even the friends who were with me that night at the fire lookout tower refuse to talk about what happened at the fire lookout tower. It is one of those things
The Last Fire Watcher Read More »
The campfire crackled, sending orange sparks up into the heavy canopy of pines. The night was thick and dark, smelling of pine needles, river mud, and burnt marshmallows. Five boys sat on rotting log benches, huddled close to the heat. They were deep in the woods at Camp Whispering Shadows—a
The Best Father’s Day Catch Read More »
We come across many interesting fictional creepypasta characters online. Some of them are so influential that they create an entirely new cultural heritage. When it comes to creepypasta characters, they usually have a diverse appearance and a complex yet intriguing persona. One of them is the Slender Man, who became
The History of Slender Man and His Impact on Creepypasta Read More »
Read part one here So I thought I’d take some time to go over some of the Abenaki legends in the area. I mentioned some stuff about the Tall Men and Skadegamutc in the last part but this whole place is rife with some truly weird legends. This place is
I Took A Job In Northwest Vermont: Entry One: Wendigo Psychosis Read More »
My parents have gone away for a few weeks so I have to look after the house, and since they can’t find a kennel that will take our dog I have to care for her, too. I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do for them after they agreed
The sun was a jagged, bleeding wound on the horizon as Miles and Sarah pushed through the Mojave. Their old Jeep Wrangler rumbled with a comforting rhythm, the air conditioner fighting a losing battle against the dry, oppressive heat of the Nevada desert. They were happy. More than happy—they were
The Mother of the Mojave Read More »
Now I’m gonna start this saying I’m not the smartest man in the world. I never did well in school, always getting in trouble of one sort or another. I barely graduated and that was only because there was a teacher who saw some glimmer of hope within me and
Confessions of The Crawler Read More »
‘I need a cab, at Lexington square, Richmond, Virginia,’ the text reads. “Where are you headed?” The reply doesn’t come right away. This is nothing new–not in my job. Sometimes, my fares are not so forthcoming with their destinations–something quite perplexing to me, given that they are requesting my services.
I Drive a Taxi Between the Realms: Entry One: Dering Wood Read More »
The camera didn’t look like something that should still work. Didn’t feel right from the start. When my sister handed me that box on my birthday, I could tell it’d be a pile of garbage. She’d always been a cheapskate, the woman can’t walk past a yard sale without stopping.
Followers of the Flaming Hand Read More »
The day was edging toward dusk, the sun casting long shadows across the backyard. I remember the cicadas’ hum filling the air, marking the middle of summer, a relentless reminder of what should have been carefree days. I am posting this because I need help, and someone else might have
Looking to Kill a Dog Read More »
I stepped out into the quad, salted caramel latte in hand to savour the brief moment of peace between my lectures. The air smelled faintly of salt and seaweed that drifted in from the bay and a light fog had settled overhead leaving droplets of condensation on benches and the
Be it curiosity, a sense of amusement, or something much darker, the man found himself walking toward the dilapidated structure that peeked through the trees at him. His feet swept through the grass as he approached the treeline. The sun was shining and the bright rays warmed his skin. He
Something in the Void Read More »
I stand on the beach, watching the great waves of the Southern Ocean roll toward me like endless rows of undulating beasts, their white crests sparkling blindingly under the harsh July sun. The briny scent of the sea drifts upward, carrying with it that familiar ache of melancholy, a feeling
Into The Mangrove Forest Read More »
“The penguins are coming.” An old man rocks in his chair and takes a drag of his cigarette. “What?” “The penguins are coming,” The old man repeats. “What penguins? We live in Missouri.” The other gentleman, Gerald, shrugs as he leans against a supporting beam of the porch. “Penguins going
Ding dong! Erin Tucker (“Erry” to anyone besides her mother) looked up from her tablet to see which of the locals had come to bug her before she finally got off work for the weekend. She heard the man, and his distinct not being a local, from the other end
Twelve missed calls. My eyes never shifted as my phone continued vibrating on the old oak counter. My hands softly gripped the wet glass of my sixth pour. Thirteen. I’m tired of this. Tired of the noise, the fighting. I’m tired of holding onto this chaotic thing my wife and
