Creepypasta Stories

The Mother of the Mojave

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

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I Drive a Taxi Between the Realms: Entry One: Dering Wood

‘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.

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A Speaker Of The Trees

Martin pressed the record button on the handheld unit and held it close to his mouth as he ducked under the rope the patrol officers had strung between the trees. “October fourteenth, 1972,” he said. “George Washington Park, Centralia. Arrived on scene at approximately nine forty-five in the morning. Initial

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My Lady Kudzu

The chirping of a blue bird woke Robert out of his blank eyed stare. His eyes refocused, as his old hands went to rub them back into reality. Their disappointed scowl still staring bluntly ahead. Robert found himself sitting on his porch. He was fatter and older than he ever

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Followers of the Flaming Hand

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.

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Looking to Kill a Dog

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

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Medusa Fog

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

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The Language that spreads

Entry 1: Phonemes There is something peculiar about Phillip, one of my 9th graders. He used to be exceptional at English. I am an English as a foreign language teacher in Germany and I taught the same class last year, and that means I already know him well. But after

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A Fire In The Server

DIVICORE TECHNOLOGIESInternal Maintenance & Operations SystemDocument Type: Maintenance LogAccess Level: Internal Use Only – MAINTENANCE LOG 0216Date: 02-23-2026Time: 16:42Department ID: SI-PNW-04Employee: Boris MorozovEmployee Number: 4471Division: Server InfrastructureRank: Senior Maintenance TechnicianLog Type: Incident Report Today’s failure rate for RAM units across the floor has doubled compared to the daily average. I

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