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Suspense and Thrillers

Locked

I was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder when I was five. I have always struggled to interact with people because of this disorder, spending large amounts of time attempting to fix imperfections around me. I would lash out harshly at people around me if they touched me or my things, and …

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It Watched From the Roof

I had the house to myself, my parents were spending the weekend in Toronto, and I’d spent the day hanging out with my girlfriend. Up until I dropped her off at home later that evening, it was an ordinary day, as close to perfection as possible. I took my girlfriend …

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The Hallway Wasn’t Empty

Did you know that, once introduced to routine, our brains are capable of accepting it to the extent that when something changes, it doesn’t notice? The change could be small and harmless, an object there that wasn’t, or something moved to another room that you would normally duck around on …

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Cold Wind, Cold Earth

“With little evidence towards his innocence, he is to be hanged the Monday from next on charges of military treachery and murder…as for the state and whereabouts of Private Oswald Arthur Crane, they are still unknown.” – General George Crook (1877) This is the truth, sir. Flecks of gunpowder and …

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Daddy’s Girl

After Momma got sick, Daddy didn’t act the same. He’d go off into their room and not come out for days. I was just thirteen at that time, but Daddy said I was big and needed to take care of things. I liked feelin’ responsible. Back then, it was just …

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The Thing in the Window (Illustrated Creepypasta)

I’m pretty freaked out. That thing has been there for almost a week. The figure in the window. It looks featureless, only skin on a human frame, and it’s pressing itself against the glass somehow. I don’t know how it got there, and I don’t know how to get rid …

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I Think I’m Being Followed

My name’s Abigail Stitcher. I’m 15 years old, and I think I’m being followed. You see, I live in a relatively small town, with a population of 1,476 or so. Birch Run, they call it. Nothing’s ever really happens there, aside from the occasional fire or robbery committed by some …

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Butcherface

Part 1 In 1997, my friend (who we’ll call Chris) moved across state. At that time, we were 10, we didn’t really have much of a way to see each other besides getting a ride by our parents to one or the other’s house, which would be a hassle for …

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They Just Won’t Move

There’s three of them outside, hikers probably. Older maps usually show a route over the motorway behind my house but there isn’t one anymore. I don’t mind them usually, they just walk down and then walk back up a few minutes later and I go and explain the situation to …

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The Mannequin Farm

I think I’m finally at the point where I’m able to talk about it. It’s been several years since it happened. None of us – not me, nor my friend, brother, or brother’s friend, who also experienced it – have ever told a living soul, and rarely mention it to …

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The Forgotten Hour

As the last of the crisp brown Autumn leaves fell to the worn pavement, the young man let out a sigh. So much had happened in the time since he left in the spring of 2001. His home, his workshop, even his favorite stores and restaurants were gone. Walking past …

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The Black Fog

Everything, all of this chaos and madness, all began with the Black Fog. It was just an ordinary day when the news reported a strange phenomenon, a wispy black cloud of fog, steadily making its way toward the west coast of the country from over the ocean. Nobody really cared …

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NoEnd House

Let me start by saying that Peter Terry was addicted to heroin. We were friends in college and continued to be after I graduated. Notice that I said “I”. He dropped out after two years of barely cutting it. After I moved out of the dorms and into a small apartment, I didn’t see Peter as much. We would talk online every now and then (AIM was king in pre-Facebook years). There was a period where he wasn’t online for about five weeks straight. I wasn’t worried. He was a pretty notorious flake and drug addict, so I assumed he just stopped caring. Then one night I saw him log on. Before I could initiate a conversation, he sent me a message.

The Dionaea House

10.7.2004 Jennifer, friends and family of Mark, As promised, here are copies of the correspondence I received from Mark over the course of the last month. For the most part, I have merely copied and pasted them from my email application. As you’ll read, he requested this, in hopes that …

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Who Was Phone?

oK so basicaly its like this. youare at a friends house for like the night or watever and then you guys are making out on the couch (yeah!) and then like.. her dad calls on the phone and says “no i she likes it more if you use the other hand… yeah” and your alllike “oh dude your dad is trying to give me advice on how to diddle you” and then she’s like… “i don’t have a dad..” or whatever… but what!? WHO WAS PHONE?

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