Most read stories

The cops had everything about the kidnapping of Joey wrong. Their prime suspect, Scooter the Clown was a well known children's entertainer in town. He performed at parties, like Joey's all the time. At the precinct I am an insignificant ant flailing for the attention of titans. Finally, a cop turns to me and says, "Are you lost little boy?" On cue, my silence held no longer.

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…

The whistle is considered one of the happiest sounds on earth by many. I'm not one of those people. I hate the sound of whistling. Another thing I hate is the tune of "Oh, Susanna." I can't bare to hear the two combined. Not after that night.

Hello, my name is Alice. This is my story. No no, Not the cliche story of falling down a rabbit hole into a mysterious unknown land with a Red Queen who cuts off heads and a man in a ridiculous hat who has tea parties. No this isn't like that.

A lot of these stories start off with, "I don’t know why I’m writing this." Well, this isn’t one of them tales. In fact, I knew full well I should be writing this, even though I was told not to. I can’t in good conscious not tell this story.

There are some places in Texas I advise you to go to: San Antonio. Austin. Poteet. Dallas. La Vernia. Just to name a few if you want to experience real Texas in a breathtaking way. And then there's Kosciusko, Texas, a place that I would never bring up in normal conversation. It's a place you don't go to. It's a place you drive far away from when nighttime falls. It's a place where your car stops and stalls and you feel sweat beading down your neck as you try to jiggle the keys in fear.

It was a dark, and stormy night when I write this journal, stating the horrific things I have experience just the other day..

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…

I need to find Sabrina. Something bad has happened in this house that was once a home. This was no place for a child, especially for one that calls me Daddy. Within the darkness she lies. Where? I do not know, but I will find her. God help me, I will find her.

When I was 6, everything was simple. Just like any other 6 year old's life. Although, there was this time when… Well, I actually don’t know what happened. It was a June 13th, 1999. It was cold, even though it was summer. I was alone in my basement playing my Gameboy with one of those plug-in light attachments. Nothing really out of the ordinary, until it started to rain. In fact, it was a rather big storm. I was in the basement, while my parents were upstairs, when the lights flickered. At the…

The thick gray clouds blocked out most of the light giving the street a dark appearance and making my heart race. It was a strange feeling, to be so afraid with no conscious reason to be afraid. I walked quickly watching as the clouds swirled and moved in odd patterns that I’ve never seen before. I was used to New England winters and the cold that could creep in unexpectedly, but this was different. The wind was fierce, but not cold. The clouds were uncommon, the dulled daylight that managed to…

Sam loved owning pets for as long as he could remember. After his son and wife were killed by a drunk driver, he was left emotionally and mentally scarred. He tried seeing psychologists, but the medicine they prescribed did nothing to ease his pain. All the pills managed to do was make him nauseous and cloud his memory. However, Sam discovered that pets have helped fill the void that the tragic accident left in his heart. Sam had failed to protect his family, so the idea of caring for and…

I woke up sweating. This was the third time this week that I had this strange recurring dream. It feels so real, like I can hear the voices clearly, feel the contact with my skin. Sometimes I can't tell if it's real or not.

You know those sounds you hear when no one is home? Those sounds only you hear. When you’re alone. I do. I hear them everyday. The creaking. The noises. The paranoia of my mind playing tricks on me, but is it really?

I would have never known had I not seen it with my own eyes. The dream catcher. Not the things we hang in our windows, those awful summer camp crafts projects made of sticks and ropes and feathers and such. No. The dream catcher whom nobody has dared to see, imagine or come to understand. To call it a person would be an insult to all things real. Then again it is as real as the people it claims. More so the children…

I’d had them ever since I was a kid. I can remember being incredibly self-conscious about them, hiding them in my pockets under books and bags. The kids at school never said anything to my face, but I knew they were laughing behind my back. I remember asking my parents to take me to the doctor, to get them checked out. The growths on my hands seemed to be the elephant in the room back then, since they’d just say I was fine and change the subject. But I knew better.

Found the shit on my porch one night… Fucking ding-dong ditch or whatever. A little baggie with two blue capsules. And a stupid note with two words… “Do try” I figured it was some shitty prank from my “experimental” friends from down the street. We’ve tried nearly every reasonable drug there is, trying to get the most psychadelic trips, maintain the best highs..

It was a late night, and I could not remember where it was that I had been prior, but I remember that I had escaped from extreme violence- (perhaps the reason I couldn't remember?) In retrospect, I do, honestly, remember what happened prior, but at the time I didn't, so for the sake of letting you experience the narrative through MY shoes, I did not, in fact, remember.

If you ever are in an area of absolute quiet, still your breathing and move not a muscle. After a few seconds, you will notice that the silence has a sort of “sound” of its own, a kind of empty ringing tone. This is nothing unique; everyone will hear this, given the proper setting. An informed person will tell you that your brain is trying to interpret the lack of stimuli to your hearing and so creates a bit of a filler sound. This ringing sound actually serves a more arcane purpose, covering…

The chairs were the old school folding kind, brown metal with tan cushions that were almost comfortable. They were usually folded and stacked neatly against the wall in the basement of the church on Dionin street. Three times a week they were unfolded and made into a circle: once for bible book club on Monday afternoons, another time for prayer group on Tuesday mornings, and then every Friday night for meetings.