Creepypasta Stories

The Old Mine Shaft

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

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Grave Mistake

My little girl is my entire world. I remember the first time I held her. I fell in love instantly—a love I didn’t know I was capable of. At that moment, I knew she was going to be everything to me. Before I met you, I made a horribly grave

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The Ledger of Howard Nestor

The asphalt road leading through Duskwood, Virginia always seemed to swallow the headlights of Owen’s battered old sedan, but tonight, on Halloween, the shadows felt especially heavy. A thick, oppressive fog rolled off the Blue Ridge Mountains, settling into the valleys and wrapping around the trunks of bare oaks like

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I Watched a Cursed Film from the Dark Web

I have this friend, Randall. Good guy, and all. Just a bit weird, y’know? I don’t know. Like, I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s like he’s from another planet, sometimes. Just the way he talks or acts around people, I guess. Yeah, it’s not important–not to what

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Feeding Nights

I watched as the flames ate through the bright stitching of the collar. The sun had at last withdrawn, and the fire now furnished nearly all that remained of the visible world around me, its light advancing and receding across the ground with every movement of the flames. I sensed

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I Took A Job In Northwestern Vermont: Entry Five: Investigations Part 1

Okay, so I have some friends from Castleton coming up for a week-ish long vacation. I’d already got the week off from the MILF (paid, thank god) so we’re set to drive around the area and check out some of the touristy places I haven’t gotten a chance to visit

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Pick Your Monster

I remember this one quote.It has been stuck in my mind ever since I opened that book in my mother’s study. It was a compilation of humanity’s worst moments, all detailing similar terrible tales.The quote was from a survivor of the Rwandan Genocide.A group of militia men caught her trying

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I was never allowed to hear a recording of myself growing up.

Three weeks ago, my roommate handed me his phone and asked, “Is this you?” It was some kind of prank video from one of those YouTube channels that film people without their permission and publish it to get views. I barely got past the first five seconds of the video,

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Squirt’s Blood

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

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Into the Void: An Interview with Pure Evil

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

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