The sleeping mind fascinates me; namely the nighttime hallucinations we call ‘dreams.’ Because of this, I keep a journal to record every thought that passes through my brain at night. I set at least one alarm each day so that I’m able to wake up during my REM cycles and recall my grandest dreams. Sometimes …
If you’re reading this, then I assume you know all about Snapchat’s “Psychic Knock Game.” If not, you can click HERE to get caught up. Okay guys, let’s get some things straight. I’m on horror sites pretty often, and a friend told me about what’s been happening here on creepypasta. I’ve been looking …
If you’re reading this, then I assume you know all about Snapchat’s “Psychic Knock Game.” If not, you can click HERE to get caught up. If you’re like me, then you’ve probably been perusing the creepypasta site over the past few days and noticed the countless posts pertaining to The Psychic Knock Game. …
If you’re reading this, then I assume you know all about Snapchat’s “Psychic Knock Game.” If not, you can click HERE to get caught up. N̴o̸n̷e̷ ̶o̵f̴ ̷u̴s̷ ̵r̸e̶a̵l̷i̵z̶e̸d̴ ̵w̴h̷a̴t̵ ̶w̷e̸ ̵w̴e̶r̴e̷ ̶g̷e̸t̸t̷i̷n̴g̷ ̷i̵n̸t̵o̶.̶ ̵D̸a̸v̵i̴d̴ ̷i̸s̸ ̸t̵h̵e̶ ̸o̵n̴e̶ ̸w̵h̵o̷ ̴c̶l̵i̵c̸k̴e̶d̶ ̷o̷n̵ ̸t̶h̵e̵ ̶p̴o̶s̷t̴ ̵a̴n̶d̶ ̸d̵e̷c̴i̴d̸e̸d̷ ̴w̵e̸ ̸s̶h̴o̷u̴l̷d̸ ̷p̶l̷a̷y̷.̵ …. It was Thursday night …
That idiot Josh started this. He found this Snapchat user named callme_469 (click here for a pic of their snapcode). Rumor had it that the account belonged to a hot girl, so Josh thought he could flirt with her, I guess. Despite the suggestive name, Josh was misguided; after connecting, the user sent …
The swirl of voices awoke Jared from his troubled sleep. Vera, his wife, was disturbed only by his tossing and turning, she couldn’t hear the voices. They were in his head. A senseless drone of overlapping whispers, faint but present, troubled his mind. He could discern no sense or message, just noise. Naturally, he’d told …
Would you believe me if I told you that genies were real? They are, but they’re not like anything you’d expect them to be. The stories say that you have to rub a magic lamp to get them to come out, but that’s only half true. It doesn’t have to be a bottle. It can …
The top half of Councilman Jones’ body hung by a steel cable looped around his neck and tied off to an old oak tree on one end. It was still dripping blood, bones and veins and torn bits of intestines dangling down where the legs should start. The cable was stretched through the air, over to an ash tree ten yards away from where the other half of the body was hanging by the legs.
You have been given a chance; one single opportunity. Just for you, little one. You don’t have to endure the tribulations about to be unleashed. You can escape all of that misery. All you have to do is listen to my voice. As before, it begins the same. A faint hum vibrates from the sky …
My grandfather on my dad’s side passed away from cancer back in 2018 at the age of 75. Unlike my mom’s parents and my dad’s mom, my two brothers, my sister and I knew very little about “Grandpa Henry”. All that we knew about him was that he was born April 7th, 1943 in Scottstown, …
My first love was Misty from Pokémon. Those legs, that sass, she was absolutely perfect. No one else could ever compare. When I played the games, I’d hang around her gym and pretend that we were on a date. I built my team to be strong against her weaknesses so I could always protect her. I used to fantasize that she’d become intrigued by me when I had beaten her. That she’d become obsessed and fallen head over heels in love with me. It was just a silly fantasy, but I enjoyed it when I was younger.
I’m awoken by Rebecca’s sudden lurch upward. The whole bed’s shaking from it. My mind’s jumpstarted awake. Immediately, I’m feeling disorientated. Inactive for many hours, my brain now has to remind me where I am. The information floods in: I’m in my bedroom. In my house. It’s dark. I instinctively look at my alarm clock. …
Part 1 “So I’m in the cosmetics aisle, right? And I’m standing there reading this bottle of lotion. ‘Not tested on animals,’ it says. And I’m thinking: Really? Like, who the hell is rubbing lotion on animals? Anyone?” A modest amount of laughter from the audience. About as much as you could expect from twelve …
[Recording begins] “The date is November 1st, 2018. This is–” [coughs] “This is Detective Ray Sherman, excuse me. Badge number 13557, of the Internal Affairs Investigation Unit, number 334. We are investigating the night of October 31st, 2018, Case AF6H765, where Officer Pete Mendoza was found alone with five surrounding officers dead in an apartment …
My family and I moved to Denver about two years ago. I work for an art school that transferred me from my remote Orlando office, and the city that I had called home for the past fifteen years, to the main college campus that is situated just outside of downtown Denver. I love it here. …
November 6th, 2015 Oh boy. I’m not really sure how to properly start these types of stories, but, I’m going to try to get to the point as fast as possible. See, I’m kind of on a timer here. I’m currently writing this on one of the computers in the library at my college. As …
I sat on the wide ledge looking down at the people walking by on the sidewalk far below. They really did look like ants when viewed from so far away. I hope I don’t land on anyone. That would royally suck, for them. I wasn’t too worried about it because if it did happen, I’d be seconds away from never having to worry about anything ever again.
When you are met with the sort of anxiety which, ultimately, is there to make you consider the possibility that your own memory is a lie, it is only natural to face difficulty in recalling even things that happened a short time ago. If I was open to undertaking so thorough an examination of this then I am confident that I would identify a good few reasons for the acute nervousness I feel; even so, it should go without saying that I am not inclined to accept my emotion as fully justified: it undoubtedly rests on some sinister delusion.
The hull of the ship moaned and groaned under the strain of its frozen enclave. HMS Stargazer and its crew had initially set out into the deep unknown to map uncharted territories, but winter descended quickly upon them and they found themselves trapped between stars and ice for months. Supplies were running thin and the captain of the ship, a tall and clean shaven gentleman by the name of Gerald Northington, had assembled groups of hunters to venture out in search of seal meat. The most recent hunting expedition had yet to return and Northington was pacing anxiously up and down his quarters.
People always tell you not to play with Ouija Boards. Personally, I’ve never bought into any of that nonsense. I’m not afraid of something invented by a toy company. Every account you hear of weird stuff happening after someone used a Ouija Board at a slumber party or whatever is just due to the power …
Publisher’s Note: This story is a prequel and takes place before all of the previously released Father Cooke and Magister Alexander stories, which you can find here. The author invites you to read the other tales in the series after completing this one. Oh shit, I thought as I walked through the front door and …
There’s a small village out in Alabama called Saint’s Glen. You won’t find it on any map, at least not since 1965. But you can still find the remnants of the town. If you follow the river southwest of Thomasville, you’ll find it, somewhere in the woods between Jackson and the state line. The highways …
“Millie, wake up! Come on, it’s your birthday! Today’s a very special day! You’re 18! Mum’s working so you get to spend the whole day with me. Meet me in the living room when you’re ready!” my sister Elena sings cheerfully at me while shaking my mattress. I get out of bed and stare in …
Publisher’s Note: This story is part of the author’s Father Cooke series of interrelated stories. If you enjoy it, the author invites you to click here to read the other tales in the series. “1…2…3…4…5…6…7.” I flicked the light in the bathroom off and then on again seven times, counting every flick of the switch. Once …
