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Graffiti Joe

It was the Christmas season. It had just gotten dark, as I was finally able to leave the office that night after working overtime. The streets were damp from the heavy rain; it had been an unusually warm winter. I stopped downtown for some Christmas shopping for the kids, just some last-minute shopping before everything …

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Toys in the Attic

Christmas has always been a hard time for me. Childhood memories of bickering relatives, drunken tirades, and hostile dinner conversations made me wince at the mere mention of the holiday. In the Christmas of 1989, I broke my collarbone on my new toboggan. In the Christmas of 1997, my brother drove the family car into …

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The Man In My Bedroom Window

For as long as I can remember, there has been a man in my bedroom window. It seems strange to say, I know, but it is true. From the earliest, fuzziest memories I have all the way up to now, he’s been there. Looking at me. In my first memories of him, he was an …

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Biting At My Heels

I enjoy running quite a bit. It might come off as a bit odd to say, but it really is important to me. I found my love for it back in high school, when I ended up drifting aimlessly onto the cross country track teams. Joining was less of an active choice on my part …

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Never Meet your Number Neighbor

Has anyone else seen the post yet? The guy messages someone whose phone number is identical to his apart from the last digit, which is either one number up or down. I scrolled past it like any other post you see on the internet, gave it a quick chuckle and continued like any other time. …

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Why I Hate Scarecrows

I hate scarecrows. I have ever since I was little. I found something about the dolls stuffed with straw unsettling. I remember my parents tried to help me get over this fear by telling me things like, “They’re not scary, they only want to be friends” or some other lame line to get me to …

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The Thing That Will Kill Me

I grew up in a tiny town in Vermont. Tiny in terms of population, not size—there were huge sprawling farms and wooded areas, but almost no people. More cows than people, which is standard for a lot of small towns in Vermont. So, clearly, not the most fun in the world for a kid who …

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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 of it. At first I …

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My Son is Terrified of the Day Stalker

Newton, Georgia is a small town near the Alabama border. Less than an hour away from Stanwyck, my husband Robert’s hometown. Newton’s your typical one Wal-Mart, one high school town. People are friendly. And every November, the weather starts getting a little cooler. But there’s also quite a bit of history in Newton as well. …

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When Catfishing Goes Bad

My cousin Patrick was murdered a few months ago. Yeah, Patrick was weird and self-absorbed, but at the end of the day, he was only twenty-four. I didn’t know much about what happened other than what his friend Jamal told me. Jamal had even posted on Reddit about it. The whole ordeal sounded truly terrifying. …

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Bigger Fish

My friend and I have always known not to go into the woods around my house at night. I live in a really, really rural area. Like, the nearest house is about a mile away kind of rural. I love it; I grew up in suburban areas, so living somewhere so far away from civilization is really …

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There's Something in the Fields behind my Apartment

There’s Something in the Fields Behind My Apartment

I’ve never really considered myself to be much of an explorer or even a particularly brave man, however that hasn’t seemed to stop me from getting in the predicament I’m in now. It was around 3 months ago that my girlfriend of 4 years left me for another man, and she really was the last …

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My Roommate Got Sick After Returning from Africa

“Are you absolutely positive you locked the door when you left?” Denise’s voice was too desperate for her words to be an accusation. More like a plea. I adjusted the phone in my hand and the collar of my shirt. “Yes. Absolutely. I went back up and checked.” The latter was a lie, but I …

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