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Creepypasta Stories

Pivot

It’s already difficult to think…. But what is left to do? I am going to be erased; am being erased. I can feel my thoughts slipping away from me like sand between fingers. I can grasp at them, but the harder I try, the more difficult they are to keep.

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The Musician

“Name?” the man sitting across from my asked. I coughed. My mind had been wandering again. The man looked at me patiently. “Name?” he repeated again. “Edwin,” I replied. “Edwin Stroud.” The man pursed his lips slightly as he checked the papers in front of him. “Occupation?” He asked. “Musician,”

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Bath Water

While I have some scary incidents that happened throughout my younger life, this one has probably stuck with me the most. I remember when I was a little boy, and my parents used to live in this crummy apartment somewhere in Cleveland, Ohio. I reminisce to the days of the

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The Shadows

“You’re such a baby!” my friend Elise exclaimed as I held her arm tight when the power in my house went out. “I am not! I just hate the dark! I don’t know what it is about it, I just always have.” I was frowning, and the hairs on the

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A Moment of Clarity

It’s almost funny, people understand so little about life until their lives are close to over. Ah, but youth is wasted on the young, right? Well, from my youth on, I have attended patients at Mashapaug Psychiatric Institute, a private manor in a heavily forested area outside Union, Connecticut. There

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Tharbles

So here’s a quaint little story I’m only now recollecting for the first time in my adult life, having faded slowly in the memory since the event actually occurred on one day during my teenage years. I was 11, and it was the summer that existed immediately before my first

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Stevie

My name is Sylvester Penn. I am a professional psychotherapist working for the judicial branch of the state of Connecticut which is why I was so surprised to have received a call from a precinct asylum in southern Rhode Island and to hear that I had been summoned by name

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Laughing

My friend Caz is the adventurous type. As a child his parents were constantly taking him on epic family vacations that made my summer trip to the zoo pathetic in comparison. Mountain climbing in Sweden, tours of the Grand Cannon, jungle hikes in South America, Caz had done it all,

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Hanging Tree

My boyfriend and I decided to go down to the South for a week. Hike the Great Smokies and everything. We rented a cozy cabin, secluded, in the woods, not many people milling around. It was the end of summer, still some tourism going, but not much. We thought it

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