Best rated stories

As I sat on my couch watching a movie on the television, I found it difficult to concentrate. The noisy neighbors upstairs were at it again. I’m not sure exactly what they were doing, whether they were moving furniture, playing football, or tag. Who knows? All I know is that it was a considerable amount of noise and it needed to stop. My roommate mini came out of her room, frustrated, “Uggh!” she exclaimed, “They’re at it again?”

A few weeks, my wife and I took a vacation to Florida. We decided to drive, due to the price of airplane tickets around holiday season. On our way south, we passed through Tennessee as well as a large portion of Georgia. Unfortunately, there was a large accident that occurred on the turnpike, so we decided to take a short detour and then get back onto the turnpike after we passed all the traffic.

When I read the articles about him. I spent three weeks looking through my window. I was terrified by the thought of him being in the woods. I thought it was hunting me at first, trying to get me into a tragedy; it wanted me to suffer, but I was entirely wrong. I know, what a way to start, but I have been suffering from sudden explosive nosebleeds and migraines.

Not much is known about Dr Michael Kessler's past, other than he was born in Ohio around the 1970s and had graduated with outstanding accolades in all scientific fields, however his distant and cold personality mixed with questionable views and theories led to many scientific groups ridiculing him. He was laughed out of many colleges and other such establishments when he would ever bring up his main interest of study; the "paranormal".

"What does it look like out there, Félix?" "Just like here, everything is covered in snow. Have the others returned yet?" "No, you are the first to arrive. Eduardo came back for a few minutes to change one of his crampons, but he went back out immediately." Félix turned around and looked at the entrance of the mine.

His death was painfully slow. So slow, in fact, that he could see every single speck of his killer's features, as his eyes slowly started to become blurry. His brother's eyes. The colour of dark, dark coal. His friend's hair. The colour of a warm, dark brown layered with what he could have described as light browns here and there. His killer's lips. A pale rose tinted colour. The fact that those lips had folded back into a grin while his killer laughed maniacally had made him cry. Cry for his…

What actually happens when we die? It’s crazy to think that there is something else, and the biggest reason for that is…can you imagine your own mind being a totally different person? Is it scary to think that your mind, or your soul, could end up transplanted in a new body, with a new name, new life, but it’s still you? Even moreso, continuing in a new life like this, and still being you, but losing all of your memories, your experiences? In that way, I guess it may not be a big deal to some,…

Have you ever heard the saying that Pens are sharper than knives? Well, they are... Pens of ink, bring life into a story... Pens of ink, create worlds upon worlds.... Pens of Ink, bring monsters and ghosts of old back to life.... Pens of Ink, create heroes and villains that fight to see which will stay and which will go.... Pens are Sharper the Knives.... Knives made wonderful meals, and end stories before their even finished. Knives are metal and always dull.... Always painful....

Listen, this isn’t some random, creepy story. This is not a creepy pasta. This is serious. Call me crazy. Or superstitious, or whatever. I know what happened. And I wish I could forget. Okay, let me calm down and start from the beginning. First, my name is Carter. And I’m a pretty serious gamer. But, after a recent event with a certain game, I think I might have to change my habits.

“Whom the Gods would destroy, they first make mad” Prometheus, The Masque of Pandora

James had just moved to upstate New York and he knew no one except for a few flaky work associates. One night during a January blizzard, he heard a faint “meow” emanating from the nearby alleyway adjacent his apartment. He ventured into the snowstorm and found a half frozen, gaunt kitten in the alley next to his apartment.

It’s 8 PM at the National Science Research Centre Airbourne Warfare Department in Flin Flon, Saskatchewan. The Centre is tiny compared to most others in Canada, only 19 scientists and 127 soldiers. The research teams have all gone but the goons and several care takers are keeping Dr. Byron Floyd company as he watches over the pressure levels for one the new experiments. As he enjoys his dinner of a tuna sandwich and a coke, he presses the same button every 5 minutes. At the 4 minute 51 second…

When I was younger I used to work as a night auditor for a very popular hotel chain in New Orleans. This particular hotel was once an old warehouse in the Central Business District. It had a long history that dated back to the Underground Railroad where tunnels built throughout the building were used to secretly lead slaves to boats on the Mississippi River. When the hotel owners started to demo the property to convert it into a hotel, they found old distillery equipment used during the…

If you venture deep into the forests of the Appalachian Mountains, you must wear tight-fitting clothes at all times. Make sure that your pant legs are tucked into your socks, and be sure to wear heavy boots. This is very important. Because what many don't know, is that there is something stocking these mountains. A creature with a voracious appetite, for human flesh. They hide all around you; in bushes, under rocks, or in the branches of tall trees. Their dark eyes leer out from under their…

Mad Henry was a hermit who lived alone in a decrepit mansion at the edge of town. Rumors were rife about the wild-eyed man. Some folks said that he was a magician who called upon the powers of darkness to wreck havoc upon his neighbors. Others called him a mad doctor who could restore life to foul corpses from the local cemetery. No respectable citizen in town had anything to do with Mad Henry

There it is! In between the static. It's faint, at first, buried deep in the hiss, but after you hear it, after you know it's there it becomes so loud you want to cover your ears and scream. I can sound the words out for you, but that's it. We never got the romanization down. It sounds like: Ip thoc ko ial preg iad tow dez vago tet.

I awoke that night to Echo, my dog, barking up a storm. He was perched on the edge of my bed, facing the door and yapping away like crazy. I scratched him behind the ear to get him to calm down and guided him to his usual spot on my bed. In hindsight, him barking was the first warning.

The late 1980's were a time in my life I normally don't care to remember. My mother and I had moved away from my grandparents' house. Theirs was the only home I knew. Mother had a bad habit of making poor decisions in men, and so for a while we bounced around from place to place. I even recall being at one school only for a week before we were on the lam once again.

The sun was dancing on the horizon, shadows lengthening and the light beginning to fade. Inside the pure white room, only a table and two steel chairs furnishing it, stood a girl no older than sixteen in a shirt and pants the same hue as the room.

“Leave the light on.” she said quietly, barely above a whisper.