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Creepypasta Stories

Ochelari

In my room, on my desk, sits a black, plastic casing which holds my glasses. They have a power of minus 9 and they were very expensive to wear. When I was younger, my mother used to warn me about sitting too close to the television. She used to tell

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The Music Box

You know how it goes. When you were a child, your favourite thing was your music box. It would play a soothing yet haunting melody that lulled you to sleep, or provided background noise for playtime. You had it for years. You loved it, cherished it. You brought it everywhere.

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Born Dead

On my sixteenth birthday, just after I had blown out the candles on a fairy cake, my mother told me that I was born dead. “I’m so happy that you made it,” she said. I pulled the fork out of my mouth. “What?” “Oh,” she said. “I guess we never

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All He Wants

The sweet old lady rocks rhythmically in her recliner. Her head nods often in approval as she agrees wholeheartedly with her favorite evangelist late this evening. This has been Mrs. Weatherford’s routine every night since her late husband left her alone and vulnerable. The preacher is hitting his groove on

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Early From Work

Margaret had, as usual, been left to the confines of her bedroom. With her father working the night shift and her mother ill with pneumonia, she didn’t have anyone to talk to. The only noise was the ticking of the clock, the slight humming of the radiator in the corner,

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The Staircase Ritual

If you’re reading this, it’s likely because you’re at your wit’s end. You’ve been watching too many scary movies, or maybe you’ve read a few too many creepy pastas, or perhaps you’ve just been left alone with your own thoughts for far too long. You keep hearing suspicious noises, you’re

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Chosen

“There are winds of destiny that blow when we least expect them. Sometimes they gust with the fury of a hurricane, sometimes they barely fan one’s cheek. But the winds cannot be denied, bringing as they often do a future that is impossible to ignore.” ― Nicholas Sparks, Message in

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