Most read stories

In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling “realistic” baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the “rocking motion” advertised to calm it down wouldn’t work, and you couldn’t get it to stop without shaking it.

I was on a business trip about a year ago and I had to drive from Denver to LA. It was a long drive and I was growing tired of the road, so I stopped at the Holiday Inn hotel that was nearby. I walked up to the desk and rung the bell. Just seconds later, a man came out from the back room. "Hello sir, my name is John Shelby," the man said, "How can I assist you?" "I'm looking for a room," I replied, "Are there any available?"

Maybe it's late at night, but you can't sleep. You're bored, or you can't stop a bazillion thoughts from racing through your skull, or maybe you had too much coffee, or you're a little drunk. Whatever the case, I've been there, my friend. I know how it feels to sit there and realize that you're not really living right now. You're just existing. Surely there's something you can do, right?

You are home alone, and you hear on the news about the profile of a murderer who is on the loose. You look out the sliding glass doors to your backyard, and you notice a man standing out in the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer exactly, and he is smiling at you. You gulp, picking up the phone to your right and dialing 911. You look back out the glass as you press the phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer to you now.

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.

My end is near. I know this now. The thing my master says… It’s all too much at times. I heard my master saying something earlier… It sound like.. like he’s going to… replace me. It feels like, soon, he’s going to perform an operation on me... and I’m scared.

The pain ended quickly. I rose and tried to find my body. Probably lying mangled underneath the metallic wreck. Dying in a road accident is definitely the worse way to go. "So! Had a nice life?" asked a voice behind me. I turned around to find a woman smiling. Since she could see me I was pretty sure she was a soul like me. She giggled, "You are taking it pretty well. I am Cindy by the way." I spoke evenly," What happens now? Hell? Heaven?" She laughed louder. Before I could say something I…

Have you ever had one of those feelings that something was wrong? I don’t mean during the day either, but at night. I mean that sudden unprovoked feeling of dread that commands you to wake. Funny, it’s almost like nocturnal evil gives something off that your sleeping brain picks up on. I had one of those recently. It forced me up at 3 a.m. Normally when you have that feeling you’d lay still feigning sleep, or if you’re feeling adventurous you’d take a quick check around the house. After you…

So ur wid yo honi and ur makin out wen the phone ringz. U ansr it n da voice sayz "wut r u doin wit ma daughter?" u tel ur girl n she say "ma dad is ded." THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

This is the story of Kelly Tristan, a 23-year-old woman who lived alone in a small house at 2605 Pine Road in the small town of Fairview, Oregon. Her disappearance had gone largely unnoticed until nearby residents started to go missing without a trace. When the police went to investigate the area, all the homes of the missing people were completely empty, as if no one had lived in them for quite a long time. Here is what happened… Sunday October 31, 2004

Have you ever forgotten your phone? When did you realise you’d forgotten it? I’m guessing you didn’t just smack your forehead and exclaim ‘damn’ apropos of nothing. The realisation probably didn’t dawn on you spontaneously. More likely, you reached for your phone, pawing open your pocket or handbag, and were momentarily confused by it not being there. Then you did a mental restep of the morning’s events. Shit.

I hate my life. I just made some new friends at this stupid school, and now I have to move again because of my father’s stupid new job. We're moving to the other side of the country. I just wish we could stay in a town for more than a few months, but no. Every job just gets better and better, so we have to move. I’d been doing some research on the new town we were moving into. I’ll just say that there are some pretty messed up headlines for this place. Most of them about kids going insane, some…

I live in the middle of nowhere, far away from the rest of my friends. I have to wake up very early in the morning to catch my bus and I usually eat my breakfast as it’s bringing me to school. I don’t have any brothers or sisters; There’s just me, the Ziggy the cat, and my Dad. And then there’s Martha, the chronically pissed-off woman who insists that I call her my Mother. But lately I don’t feel so inclined to do so. She’s hardly ever around because it seems like she works every day of the…

Don’t dismiss this outright as the work of some raving lunatic. There’s some sense to this story, if you’ll just hear me out… Look, we all wonder if time travel is possible, right? Well let me tell you something… it is. I’m from the future, actually. I know you probably don’t believe that, but seriously, I’m from the future. It’s a really great thing; getting to see the past, watching events unfold.. stuff like that. We know more now than we ever would.

I couldn’t take the calls any more. I just couldn’t take knowing. There was nothing I could do to stop them from coming through; I had to put an end to it.

Growing up, my parents told me never to go into the basement. It is kind of interesting now that I think back on it. I was an obedient kid and never did anything that my parents told me not to, but I also never once questioned, until very recently, why I wasn't allowed to go down those stairs. Our house was huge. My dad worked in finance, but grew up a country boy before college so, as soon as we had the chance, we moved us out into isolation, even though this made his commute over an hour into…

3:47 pm. August 4th, 1973. My name is Kevin Matthews. I am at the Matthews Lakeside cabin in Black Rock Park which I received in my dad's will. I'm writing this to document my odd findings of my family's lakehouse.

His face never changes. It's pale white. His eyes are grey, empty. Wide. So fucking wide. I can't take my own eyes off of them and because I can't, I feel them painfully dry up, just as his should. But they don't. He never closes them. He's always, always watching.

It’s hard to imagine what it is like to be kidnapped. I've tried, often, probably every day for the last four years. Imaging the unlimited scenarios, anything from the kidnapper’s first contact to the actual abduction and the subsequent transport, has plagued me for many sleepless nights. It is hard not to focus on the betrayal he must have felt trusting that stranger. The absolute fear and possible pain he felt while maybe getting dragged away into some van or truck. Thinking of how they may…

I was about twelve years old when my parents sent me to that shit hole. They were so determined to get me to camp. Not just that camp but really any camp. I took it as code for “We’ll-be-at-work-all-week-and-we-don’t-trust-you-alone”. My parents showed me the brochure, it actually looked kind of fun! The picture on the front of the brochure had slides, activities, and really anything that a twelve year old kid would want in a camp. It was pretty legit. The kids all seemed to be having fun in…