Best rated stories

Have you ever gotten a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye? A simple movement caught in your peripheral vision. Most will simply dismiss this as a shadow brought about by a flickering candle, or perhaps a pet jumping down from a piece of furniture. Ninety-nine out of a hundred times, these people are right.

For the longest time I’ve turned to ASMR to help relax me. ASMR stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. It’s basically a brain orgasm that is triggered by personal attention, tapping sounds, deliberate tasks, ear or microphone covering— well there’s a multitude of things that can trigger that sort of response. It’s been my go to for anxiety for the last couple of months. You can find these videos easy enough on youtube. I usually listen to MassageASMR before bed.

My grandmother, when she was alive, lived on an old farm on the side of a hill in a remote village in northern Sweden, right next to a beautiful lake surrounded by mountains. Whenever we were there, we would spend all day swimming or fishing for perch and crayfish. Grandmother was however always very assertive that we must never get out on the lake during the night, though she never gave us any reason. I always assumed she worried that something would happen while no one was around to help.

Thursday morning. I awoke to the sounds of a siren blaring down the road. Great, another accident. The traffic was the last thing I wanted in the morning while going to work. Still, I had another hour before heading off, so I started my morning routine of taking a shower and brushing my teeth before heading downstairs for breakfast where I saw my son, Michael, eating cereal before breakfast. I grabbed a bagel and sat down on the couch, grabbing my iPad to read the news.

Hello there, I work for a tech company in the city that I live in. What company you say? Well for obvious reasons I am not giving that out. I can't have people showing up to my place of employment after you hear what I have to tell you. You can just call me V. You know the saying, "WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, STAYS IN VEGAS!", well this particular thing did not stay in Vegas. What is it you ask? Well, I will tell you the story of a girl’s trip that changed my life forever.

I am Joshua L. Greene. And I am responsible for the fire that destroyed Briarwood Winery on October 19th. My reasoning for doing so will be explained in this confession. On the night of October 19th, I stayed at work late to help clean up after the tasting event. We had brought extra glasses up from storage in the cellar, and I was helping clean them so they could be returned to the dusty boxes they called home. My coworker, Sam, was rushing the dishes, leaving remnants of lipstick on the rims.

I grew up in the countryside, accustomed to living in harmony with nature, familiar with my neighbors as if they were family, and used to the classrooms and schools that always had only two or three students. I was a fairly good student, and my grades allowed me to leave the countryside. However, once I started high school, the academic pressure became overwhelming, so I began attending cram school.

I love creepy pastas. Always have. My favorite have always been the pokemon ones, I have no idea why. I’m just… Drawn to them. They’ve never actually scared me, don’t get me wrong. I’m not some pansy that curls up in a ball each night scared of something under my bed trying to get me while I am asleep, nor do I shy away from scary images. Actually, I love it all. I always have. On facebook, I do something called roleplay, which is essentially taking turns to write stories with hundreds of other…

Hello and Welcome to Part 3 of The Ballerina! I'm currently also working on making these parts into a whole book! Sadly, the physical version of The Ballerina will not be ready for some time; however, please enjoy the online version I have written for you all! Now, Let's begin! Davian went to his laptop and went to that blog, where he found more information about Bella's death. Just who was the blogger? Who was 'HorrorsofNights31'? He found the blog, and this page was all about him....

For all readers…

I rest for a while. Now is time to get up and try once again to find an exit. Walking and looking for markings on the walls, a stain, a scratch, a spider web I haven't seen yet. Nothing. Perfect walls, untouched. I examine one of them looking for imperfections. Nothing. The maze looks like a work from Nature itself, a little trap created by the forces that rule the universe so they can have fun watching vermin like me struggling for a little bit of sunlight.

I'm always playing the part. Ever since this stupid movie started, the part never really left me. You're probably confused. Should I bother explaining? Honestly, all you'll do is ridicule me. Oh well. All the people I would confide in aren't exactly... around. If you have a few minutes, I can tell you a story that will drive you crazy. Trust me, I mean that.

He uttered a curse under his breath, as he had realized he left it at his friend's house. It was his phone, an iPhone 3G to be more specific and it was a device he used almost every hour. His friend's house was maybe three blocks away, and he had an important call he was expecting later that night. He would have to go get it, but there was one severe impediment preventing him from doing this. He had horrid achluophobia, fear of the darkness. It was about ten o' clock now, and it was almost…

The picture you’re staring at was taken sometime in the 70’s. It’s the only remaining image I have left of my son, and the artificial being known as "ANTRAN", whom we adopted into our family at the time.

“I hope this thing is on. I still don’t know how to work it properly." *THUMP THUMPTHUMP THU-THUMPTHUMP* *BREATHING INTO THE MICROPHONE*

It was perhaps my eighth birthday when it all started. It’s hard to recall from this far in the future. My grandfather, a gentle old man, bought me a doll to play with and together we sat around a small cake with only four candles upon the top. They weren’t the fancy candles that you see on all the cakes now a days. We didn’t have the money for such fanciful things when I was a kid. No, they were just small nubs of candles that were nearing the end of their usefulness.

I woke up, cold sweat, with something reminiscent of a bad dream clouding my head. Neck cramps, figures. I shift around a lot in my sleep - move about restlessly for a reason I know not.

Winter break!

Craigslist was never intended to be used for disturbed and deranged individuals to fill their appetite for madness. A simplistic website that hasn’t evolved much since its incorporation in 1999, the usage of the website extends beyond buying and selling goods, even into a more insidious realm. Before Craigslist was used for these purposes, there have been internet killers. The term “Craigslist Killer” was first dubbed in 2007 and has since popped up on news bulletins periodically since. Usually…

Very seldom does it happen that a young person enters a nursing home. Mostly we assume that nursing homes are for the elderly. Those who are too fragile or infirm to be without twenty-four hour care, those with a broken hip that won’t heal or with too many illnesses to count. A few who will recover and the rest left here as a last resort. But occasionally a child inhabits a room at a nursing home. Here is the tale of one such child, and the impression she left behind.