Best rated stories

They are always there. Always calling to me, at school, at parties, and even with my closest friends. "Come on babe," they'll say, "just grab that pair of scissors from your backpack, go to the bathroom, and we can play around for a little while." I try to remain focused on whatever the task is at hand, but they continue to seduce me. "You know you want to," they'll say. I tell them to wait until tonight to ease them, and as the stern voice weakens to murmurs, I can still hear them.

-Breaking News – July 27, 2013- A third murder occurs at a luxury hotel just outside of Las Vegas, Nevada. The victims where a mother and her alleged son, little information is known about either of them, or the murderer at this time. Police will continue investigation while the hotel remains open for business. The only sure thing that has been publicly announced was a statement from a house detective staying in the hotel at the time, he said:

A true (?) story.

The dust was whirling behind their car as they sped down the gravel road. Dust and dirt swirled behind them like a dark cloud gaining on the small car. David glanced at the dash board to see how fast he was driving and it showed sixty-eight. He wasn’t sure why he was driving so fast; they weren’t exactly in a hurry. He and his friend, Ryan, were heading across the state after fall break to their school. They were both freshmen at Crestwood University.

I remember it all as if it were a dreamlike daze. It was a bright and sunny that first day, yet it was quiet. Abnormally quiet, even for the densely forested area that I lived in. Nothing could be heard for miles around. Our neighbors, that lived about a quarter of a mile away and fought often, were out of town. And, my own parents were rarely home because of their jobs. But, they fought too. Which, left me alone. Alone. Day after day with no one around. No one, but the wind that would dance…

“So what’s your story, morning glory?” he asked her, staring into her big brown eyes. They were like two magnets pulling him in. Of all the juke joints in town, he had to walk into this one. Where he would see this exotic gold skinned beauty in a dress that could cure cancer. It was a red dress. One that had seen its share of blood and lives fucked up beyond redemption. If dresses could talk, this one could write an encyclopedia of misery.

What if everything we thought we knew about angels and demons wasn't quite true? What if they weren't the timeless, immortal beings we had spent entire ages of human history thinking they were? This news would surely prove Earth-shattering in a far too literal sense as we find out on that fateful day. Hell may or may not lie in the physical world, but the shockwaves felt were on a very real scale when it all broke loose. That day started like any other; day traders hit the stock market en…

I... I don't have much time, but I just have to type this up. I've been hurt... pretty bad... There's so much...blood I... I think I'm gonna die... I'm so scared. But I have to get the message out! I just need to make myself heard before it's too late.

I remember I would wake up screaming and nearly drown myself in cold sweat. I'd try to turn on a light or get a drink of water, but I couldn't even move. It was only a matter of seconds until my eyes would turn into old sepia camera filters, and "they" would appear. You probably wonder what I mean when I say that. I mean, the figures that defined my childhood, and have stood the test of time. They appeared by my door like always, leaning slowly, stabbing me with those blank, obscured eyes. My…

Hello. My name is Alex. To describe my life first and foremost, it sucks. Today on my terrible job as a demolition inspector, I get to go out and examine this old apartment complex (Birchwood) that has been abandoned for a year or two. You can imagine how fun that is. I wake up around noon in an apartment of my own. I start off my day waking up to this annoying old alarm clock. BEEP BEEP BEEP. I then go the door of my small bedroom. My room has a computer desk in the corner, and the walls are…

Its been eight minutes since I sent my message. Seen, but no reply. Something must have happened. Maybe he's hurt? It's not unlikely that he tripped and hit his head. His apartment is a mess after all. Maybe he's simply ignoring me? No, of course not. He's not like that.

Wipe your feet when you come inside. Cliché. Old school. Who does that anyways? Well, the shit your grandmother tells you isn’t always bad advice. Quite the contrary really. I’m about to tell you a story you won’t believe. A story that will never leave me. A story about what exactly happens when you don’t WIPE. YOUR. FEET. And please, whoever finds this, heed my advice. Read the story. It’s too late for me…

Mary wasn't one to complain but on this morning there was gloom and rain. Her head ached and stomach cramped, But the harder that she fought the pain The harder down did pour the rain. So off to work, dear Mary went Body sore and temper bent. Though she should have stayed at home and let her coworkers be alone. But dear sweet Mary couldn't bare the thoughts deep growing beneath her hair.

Monsters have just invaded and taken my house. I am hiding in the woods around it just trying to find a way to get them out and take it back. I'm afraid of them. I won't let them do this though. This is my house and no monster can keep it from me. Now I'm mad. They deserve to be scared like I was. To be as terrified as I was when I was walking back to my house from a nice walk around the area and I saw them entering. They have to pay. I will be the one who makes them pay.

Eva rummaged through her messenger bag frantically. Once again her notebook had disappeared into thin air. Cursing the missing piece of educational materials she opened a fresh one and began taking Russian notes on page one. Lucky for having scanned the pages into her desktop. Moving her long dark hair behind her ear she obediently repeated as she was asked to. And as the bell rang she moved to her next class. College was no different from High school, she was fortunate to have graduated in…

Caitlin thought she heard something when she threw the last net into the dark water. She turned her head quickly as the sound of the splash faded in her ears. Silence. She eyed the bush nervously but everything was still and quiet. The trees were black now, silhouetted against the twilit sky.

I owed it to him, I suppose. He was my best friend, after all, and he had always been there for me when I was in trouble. Six months ago, Mike's uncle had died after a year or so of illness. Mike took the news hard; the man had been like a father to him. It had taken him those six months to build up the courage to head round to his uncles old place in the country, and get his affairs sorted out.

I awoke to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I opened bleary eyes to see it was still very dark outside. What time was it? After about 5 or 6 rings, the caller gave up. I was tired, but sleep would not come again. Annoyed, I decided I might as well see who it was that was bothering people at this time of night. The number was not one I recognized. I sent a simple text message asking “Who are you?”

Chad’s stomach growled. He knew the only way he could satisfy this new hunger was with nachos, as he had done so many times in the past. Each nacho was a piece of the hunger puzzle in his stomach, and the pieces always lined up perfectly.

His name was Dr. Zushioh, PhD. A scientific theory he had developed indicated that it was possible to create organic life. His idea was that if one gathered all of the essential DNA and organs needed then one could create an entirely new species. If he were able to succeed in this endeavor, he would be a god. All he needed were the pig organs he had ordered two days before, but they still hadn’t shown up and he was getting anxious.