Creepypasta has never been a shock site. It says this in the rules, under the FAQ, word for word. Submissions are supposed to be creepy stories to spread around the internet for a bit of an adrenaline rush on those late nights alone. They’re not real, they’re not meant to […]
My father’s footsteps ringing distant from the hall was my lullaby when I was younger. In the dead of night, when my back was turned to the door, I would hear the familiar padding of his white and gray socks colliding with the hardwood floor outside my bedroom. The door
I haunted them and they never knew it. Mama, Papa, and my little brother Jacob; they always looked right through me, for two years never detecting even the slightest sign of my presence. Have you ever felt the bitter outrage that boils inside you when you’re being ignored? Well what
The Final Fate of Mary Ford Read More »
As a child, I was always fascinated with the woods. While the beautiful pines scattered the land, captivating me with their size and showing me a picture of strength and resilience, the dark brush intrigued me with the unknown happenings of its solemn, mysterious, and unrevealing insides. I had been
What Waits in the Woods Read More »
I am falling. I have been falling for. . . oh, I don’t even know any more. A few million years? It doesn’t even matter; time is meaningless in the infinite. There’s really not much of a story to tell. I was just sitting at home, there was a pain
“So….” The voice paused. “What exactly happened here?” The rain had been beating down all day long. It was late by now and the weather reports had said that there was no sign of it stopping any time soon. Not only was it late, it was also wet and cold,
As I stride through the woods near my home, I feel a weird sensation, one of being watched. The path in front of me begins to narrow, and the feeling gets stronger. I become more aware of the sounds which are surrounding me; I hear the sound of an owl
I Picked Him Up in the Woods Read More »
The chill of the night air was bitingly cold against the exposed skin of my face. A graveyard is never really a pleasant place to be, but it’s an especially uncomfortable location on a cold, dark night. I had dressed warmly, but the ominous feeling of the graveyard that night
Nobody knew when, or how, they came to inhabit this world. It could have been a solar wind or a meteor shower but I won’t drone on any further with possible permutations, my time is limited, and one thing is certain, they were already here. Patient Zero was one of
The following is a description of one exact point in time. It is exactly 1:04:23.215 A.M. On the second story of a quaint little home in suburbia is a hallway. The hallway begins at the top of the staircase and ends with a door. The oak of the portal and
A Moment of Horror Read More »
My name is Ingrid Ramirez, and today on this frozen, storming January day, I was standing before the coffin that contained my son, Alfie Ramirez. The coffin had a wooden, polished finish with flowers placed on top of the lid, like it would help hide the truth on why my
“Cheryl! That’s great news. I didn’t even know you were psychic!” exclaimed Marian, her face alight with excitement. “I’m not psychic, Marian.” “Oh, of course not. That was silly of me. You can just read the future in the stars,” the last syllable trailed off, a hint of mysticism in
Written in the Stars Read More »
To: Jeremy Fuentes, Ph.D Professor of Cultural Anthropology University of California, Berkeley Jeremy – I assume you have heard about the strange discovery made at 918 E. 3rd Street – a converted warehouse located on the corner of 3rd and Weller Avenue, in the middle of the Arts District in
Three Friends Diner Read More »
First it was the gays. Then the Muslims. Then the terrorists. Then the gay terrorist Muslims. I don’t know. It’s hard to keep track of who you’re meant to be hating when you’re a straight, white male. I put that as my Facebook status once. Thirty four likes. I felt
‘The first time I heard the legend of the Mad Hangman was from another inmate in our prison. He told me that there was a man with the ability to ward off death. That he was immortal. At first I thought it was a comforting fable for people who were
My older brother is a cop. Naturally, he has a protective instinct over me, his little, only, sister. The cop factor does not help. I was always babied by my family, but me and Greg, my brother, always had a closer bond. Whenever one of my other brothers picked on
Paolo fed me one last strawberry from the painted clay bowl. He let the juice drip down my chin and then kissed away every last trace. For a moment I was lost in the beauty of his herculean bronzed skin and the sound of the ocean crashing on the shore.
The Uninvited Guest Read More »
Doctor Avraham Strauss was confused. In a moment of clarity, he questioned why and how he had come to be walking down this particular corridor, in this castle, at this precise time. Red corridor, Colditz Castle, the middle of winter 1942. How could he, as a Jew, even have considered
A solitary wooden cabin hid itself deep within the rustling forest. Enclosed all around by towers of gnarled ancient trees, the thick black of night helped the cabin to completely disappear from sight. A glowing fire crackled in the hearth within the cabin, casting its dim red and gold light
We all have that one story, don’t we? The one you grow up thinking about, but never actually grow the balls to tell anyone. Well this is my story. I don’t know what I’m hoping to accomplish by telling you. Maybe I’m looking for someone to tell me that I’m
“Don’t let them have anything to eat,” Mrs Dumfries said, rummaging through her handbag that weighed down her shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to give a reassuring smile. “Of course you will. Nothing will go wrong, I’m sure,” Mr Dumfries nodded. “And they have to be in bed
It always began to stalk as dusk drew to a close. I should begin with trying to define ‘it’, but there are no words as to what it really is. It is an unfathomable object, a three-dimensional hundred-sided object with no faces, like an optical illusion. On the numerous occasions
Jolene is dead. She was the greatest thing in my life. And I loved her. — I went through quite a lonely spell as a younger child. It is possible that I never grew out of it. When I was much younger I used to be constantly transfixed by the
Jolene Jolene Jolene Jolene Read More »
“It’s nice,” said Phil, “I still can’t believe you own a house.” “Me neither, bro,” said Howard, “I mean, not at all.” The two were standing in the mostly undecorated living room. The walls were recently painted a deep Marsala color (“Color of the year 2015, bro. Get on that.”)
