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Jason pulled out of the parking lot next to the "Dark Valley" roadside diner. Sitting beside him in the navy-blue Jeep was his friend, Caroline. They had just stopped there to grab their favorite beef steaks—it was pretty much their weekend ritual. Both were in excellent spirits as Jason slipped the key into the ignition and tried to start the car.

USER_ID: XXXX XXXXXX THREAD: Strange Lights / Anomalies - General Discussion DATE: 2026-05-25 — 02:34 UTC SUBJECT: I can't sleep anymore. They are flashing. There are three of them above the city now. Three spheres, perfectly motionless in the night sky. The neighbors went out onto their balconies tonight. No one was really talking. We were just staring. As if we were waiting for something, without knowing what.

So I’m writing this as I go through this. I was sitting in my room reading creepy pasta’s and I’m not gonna make a sound right because I’m hearing moving at my window from the inside and it just so happened to be as I’m reading creepy pasta’s I don’t think so. The noises are crinkling kinda like paper and I haven’t open my certain yet but I will and if something happens I’ll try to wright it down but I’m hearing faint breathing now I’m like what the fuck I’m trying not to make noise but I’m…

My father always had this one problem of talking to himself but at least it wasn't in public, as he always made sure he would talk to himself in his special room in our house. Me and my mother have gotten use to it over the years and it became normal in our house hold and we both never really questioned why my father enjoyed to talk to himself. My father didn't have many friends and he enjoyed his own company as he was a bit of a recluse. He did now and then due to the environmental mental…

Psychology bones - They sound weird, right, but I can feel my own psychology bones and other psychology bones in other people’s minds. Psychology bones aren’t bones for the body, but the mind, they are extremely flexible and cannot be seen by the naked eyes, they are constantly breaking and forming back together and breaking again. They make up the mind and they determine what sort of mind you have and why you think the way you do.

I remember being in my young teenage years and I was always dreaming about becoming batman. Me and my two friends were avid comic book readers and we loved superheroes, it didn't matter if it was from DC comics or marvel. My friend Harold wanted to be Xavier and martin wanted to be Spiderman. We all use to dress up and pretend that we were the superheroes and I also remember at that age, we actually believed that the three of us would actually become superheroes.

She sits there, on the cold concrete ground, blood dripping from her nose and tears gushing from her eyes. She’s wearing a crisp white, now blood stained, button up shirt. Her blazer lays on the ground a foot away underneath the bullies foot. Her necktie hangs idle on her neck, swaying in the cool autumn breeze. A blue pleated skirt covers her knees.

On a Saturday afternoon, I was watching BRAD: The Movie (I liked how BRAD and Jamie get into a relationship at the end of the movie) until I heard the doorbell ring. I paused the movie to go see who was there. Just as I answered the door, no one was there, but I noticed a DVD and a note on my front porch. I took it inside.

I’m twenty-six, and I just realized something that I can only describe as deeply, agonizingly uncanny. I can’t remember who my best friend was in high school. It sounds mundane—a random gap in memory, right? But I was going through my old yearbooks from sophomore and senior year, and as I turned the pages, a strange, creeping panic set in. I was looking for him. We were inseparable back then. But he wasn’t there. I scanned every column, every row, my breath hitching, that nagging gut feeling…

The Text Did Break a Little but I Hope It’s Still Readable Enough or Whatever

Part 2 Mike and Brian froze in their tracks. They exchanged a look, and a moment later, a bright light emitting from the monitor sucked them inside. Mike looked down at his hands and forearms—they were encased in black armor resembling a warrior's suit, with a samurai sword sheathed on his back. Brian, on the other hand, wore a highly advanced, orange mechanical suit, capable of launching massive metal spheres straight from his hands.

[This is not a story about objects] It's that time again. The time to clean up unwanted, unneeded things. It's not always fun, but not always that bad either. With each object there are memories. Those can be difficult to get rid of, though there are some simpler cases. For example, simple candy wrappers are easily thrown away, while something like stuffed animals that have known and given warmth are more difficult. I don't like to admit it, but it does get easier eventually.

“Born to be a star” — that’s what my grandma always said, anyway.

This story is based off something my friend told me, there’s is no evidence of this being true but I believe it is, enjoy reading it…

I put on my running shoes with springs, designed to cushion the impact on the ground. It was my nightly ritual, something I did every single day without fail: running to the neighboring town, keeping my body busy and my mind free of thoughts. It was almost five o’clock, and the sun still stubbornly lingered in the sky, painting everything with a pale golden light.

The release wing door buzzed before it opened. There was no ceremony to it. No applause. No relief. Just a metal door that opened and closed without emotion. Daniel Danvers stood beside his car in the visitor lot, cigarette balanced between his fingers, smoke unraveling into the cloudy afternoon sky. The gravel shifted under his shoes when he adjusted his stance. He checked his phone again. No new messages from Alexander.

“Where do you live, man?” I asked, reaching out to grab the Skol can left by the window. “Cuiabá.” “Man… that’s a beautiful city.” “You’ve been there?” “Yeah. Made a lot of deliveries in the capital.” “So why do you want to go to Nova Esperança?” “For my grandmother’s wake…” “I’m sorry, kid. Losing a relative right at the start of the year…” The young man lowered his head.

Part I Jake, Mike, Brian, and Josephine were a tight-knit group of friends who had known each other since childhood. They loved spending time together after school. With Mike’s birthday approaching the following week, his parents decided to throw a party to celebrate. All his friends were thrilled and full of joy about their friend's upcoming big day. His parents even had a special gift ready—one he had been waiting for for a very long time.

day 1 Hello. I'm Michael W. Johnson, a private detective. I usually don’t do things like this, but I think we are in danger. I’ve been given several reports about a drug being used to make people immortal for decades. I don’t know the side effects yet. I don’t even know what the drug is called or where it’s being made.

Post 1: 6:00 PM, Wednesday September 5th, 2026 It’s Wednesday night, I keep earring weird noises outside. It’s been days since I’ve talked to anyone outside, people say I’m crazy for not leaving my house, but the voices are out there at night. They say since it’s at night just leave during the day but no I can’t because if i do they may still get me. Post 2: 12:00 AM, Friday September 7th, 2026 There’s scratching at my walls. They’re outside, they want me to go to them.