Most read stories

I never believed in ghosts because just the very idea of it sounded so stupid and unrealistic. My two friends billy and warren believed in ghosts and they would always force me to go with them into dark, old and large buildings. I also find souls and spirits to be an absurd idea and who ever even invented them clearly was trying to control people. I also find Halloween extremely absurd and stupid but there is the odd occasion I get scared by a horror film or even an urban legend.

It's late and I've just gotten home from work, I walk up to the front door and stick my key in. When the familiar, soft click reaches my ears I push it open. Behind it the dark hallway greets me. Normally I don't hesitate to enter, but today something feels... off. I remain standing just outside, staring inside the building. It looks the way it has always looked. It smell the way it has always smelled. So what is it that makes me feel this way?

First event

THE BEGINNING Every American child is familiar with the Statue of Liberty. Green woman. torch. crown. Greetings to the bunched masses, and the exhausted. Since 1886, she has stood atop that pedestal, grinning at cameras, ships, and school groups that wave back. The sole, covert goal of Division 0 was to ensure that she stood on her place. On one unfortunate day, they decided they won't monitor The Statue of Liberty. Midnight struck upon the clock, Guards patrol without focus.

In shadows of October dawn Was when the sickness came Foul breath of death wanton Denizens plagued in blain . I saw from high window As death drew nigh in tow Courier sent afar Then close my door ajar . As the leaves grew redder And the days grew dire My flock grew fettered Flayed upon the pyre . Cast in glow of dying wick I, too, could feel the sick Solitude in this shadowy hour Locked away inside this tower . Rolling past autumn plains Haze of grey sinks low

Many people say Disney is a shady company for many reasons, but not everyone truly knows what's going on with them. Some people say the tunnels hide something; some say there used to be a tropical resort; some even say Disney kills.

It is a new and so far prosperous day when we are called to the King's chamber and so we come with high spirits. Under the old king's watchful gaze we listened to his words with both eyes and ears as wide as the kingdom gates in which the people of the land came forth for their daily business. "Do not leave the kingdom walls after nightfall." Said his Majesty, eyes widened with terror "For if you are to go forth then I cannot keep you from the wild things in which will find you"

It started as a whisper in the static. I bought the old farmhouse on the edge of Blackwood township because the price was impossibly low, and the solitude was exactly what I needed to finish my thesis. Clara, my girlfriend of three years, was hesitant to move out there with me, but she eventually agreed, hoping the fresh air would do us both some good. We were wrong.

Julian Vance had always been the forgotten child. While other teenagers spent their weekends with friends, he spent his days in the basement restoring antique dolls and carving porcelain into lifelike figures that seemed capable of almost breathing. Every scratch of his tools hushed the noise in his head, a place where nobody could interrupt him. His younger sister, Chloe, however, always found a way. To her, breaking Julian's creations was entertainment, and to their parents, it was simply…

Mama was holding the goat by the horns while wearing garden gloves, still avoiding touching the horns with bare skin. “Untie those,” she said referring to the rope used to tie the goat to the column. I began to unfasten the rope from the goat’s neck. It started to jerk its head, uncomfortable with how she was being handled. “Don’t touch the horns,” her voice stern but low.

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.

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…

The ring light is staring at me like a cold, neon eye. I hate how much I need it. "Okay, so for the night-time routine, consistency is literally everything," I tell the camera, rubbing the serum into my cheeks. I'm watching the little heart icons bubble up the side of the screen. 1.8k viewers. My pulse does that little flutter, the one that feels like winning. "If you aren't double-cleansing, you're basically just..."

This is another I posted on /r/nosleep several years ago. I wanted to write something in the style of the horror anthologies I enjoyed as a kid in the '90s, such as Ask the Bones, The Scary Story Reader, or the classic Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. ----

Ed was a night watchman at Mr. Mitchell’s company, a firm that manufactured engines for motorboats. He was 54 years old—tall, thin, and never without his glasses. His night shift usually followed a set routine: he would circle the warehouse several times and then spend the rest of the night either napping or buried in a crime novel.

The hallway of the Oakridge Apartment Complex always smelled faintly of stale carpet cleaner and damp plaster. When I moved into Apartment 4B three months ago, I didn’t care about the smell. I was twenty-six, freshly independent, and thrilled to finally have a space of my own. On my very first day, as I struggled with a taped-up box full of kitchenware, a man stepped out of Apartment 4A to hold the heavy security door open for me. His name was Randy.

It was may 25th, 2005. me and my daughter Charlotte was heading to the park. she wanted to play on the play ground. i told here go ahead and that i’d watch from the bench. she went off and played with other kids. My neighbor and my daughter’s friends mom came to talk to me. we talked. i looked away from charlotte for 2 seconds…..i wish i hadn’t looked away…..i go to turn to see how charlotte was..but s..she was gone. omg i was so scared, i kept yelling her name “Charlotte! Charlotte sweetie…

"Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?" "Someone's in my house." A woman, maybe fifty, steady. "In the hallway. I can hear him breathing." I ask for the address and she gives it, slow and clear, and I type it into the field, and the field does something it has never once done: it stops me. The cursor goes red before I finish. A note unfolds under the line, the way the system writes when it's telling you something is over. PREMISES LOST. FIRE. 2019. NO SURVIVORS.

There is nothing beyond our simple lives. This is what I'm told by mama and papa but I don't agree with them- they don't know this but I've already learned about the "Great Big Ones". Who are the Great Big Ones you might ask? well they call themselves "Humans" whatever that means... but to us they are akin to gods. Our lives revolve around them as much as it does food or water because they provide many things: shelter, food, water, and even protection against other bugs but with that comes a…

As a single dad, the quiet moments after tucking my six-year-old daughter, Jessie, into bed are usually my only chance to catch my breath. But last Tuesday, that quiet was shattered by a plastic, mechanical giggle echoing from the hallway. I found Jessie sitting cross-legged on the living room rug, bathed in the pale glow of the television. In her lap sat a doll I had never seen before in my life.