Most read stories

Tonight's like every other night. You lay there, in the dark and silence, alone, with no company other than your own thoughts. You shift and roll throughout your bed, just you and your thoughts. You ponder, you plan, you fantasise; anything to distract you from the ringing silence that surrounds you.

Today is the first day of my new job as a teacher at the high school I once graduated from. Other than the fact at how damn early I had to get up, I was 100% ecstatic and ambitious towards what may happen on my first day back there.. 5:30 AM came all too quickly. I was in and out of the shower, dressed and. Ready, coffee in hand by 5:55 I hastily locked up my apartment and made my way to my car. I fumbled around a little in the darkness while trying to get into my car, but I eventually got it.

In the United States of America, in the state of Ohio, about forty-five minutes North West of Cincinnati, there is a large, but sparsely populated farming community known as Oregonia. Some of you who have an interest in Motorcycles may have heard of it before, as the community is famous for its hills and holds the annual “Devil's Staircase Hill Climb”, where motorcyclists ride their bikes up a very steep hill. It's a lot more fun than it sounds, and it brings in a lot of money and excitement to…

There were too many doors in the upstairs hall. Sarah told her parents, but they couldn't see it. They told her not to worry. They told her there was nothing there. But there was an extra door, at the end of the upstairs hall. An extra yellow door, and it didn't belong.

Why do you do it? You don’t know why, but you do. You make sure the windows are locked, you check the other side of the door, and your closet…You even check under your bed. Why do you do this? Does ripping open the shower curtain and seeing nothing there make you feel safe? Does scoping the area with your eyes after reading a scary story reassure you? Well, it shouldn’t. Because by the time you’ve looked, I’ve already hidden.

It’s Christmas time, and my mom wanted to start a new tradition. Of course she had to make it “Elf on a Shelf”. I wasn’t too enthusiastic about the idea, but she knew that I wouldn’t go for just a hidden elf. So my mom made it a murdering elf. Why the fuck not, right? It’s already creepy enough looking already. But that’s not it. She put post-it notes on the elf and they were clues to find the “victims” of the elf. She knew I was horrible at finding things, so this was for her amusement. I was…

Last night at around 1am, my wife and small child walked to my car after a night at my bro-in-law’s house. He lives in a sketchy suburban neighborhood so we are always conscious of our surroundings. As I was getting ready to sit in the driver’s seat I noticed a young black man staring at me with determined eyes. I stared back and nodded but he just stood there staring back at me.

My eyes struggle to open. I blink several times, trying to take in my surroundings. A stark white ceiling looms above me. Even from a distance, I can make out the little cracks that scour the surface; hundreds of tiny passages into darkness. Shifting around a bit, I feel the starchy sheets beneath my outstretched hands. They feel stale and unwashed. Unsurprisingly, the rigid mattress beneath me is no more comforting.

Hello. I suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which is an anxiety disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, or behaviors. In other words, my life is a a systematic pattern. But yesterday, I experienced a flaw in my own system. I awoke that morning in my lakeside home promptly at 6:45AM, as I do every morning. Before leaving my bedroom I made sure to touch the doorknob three times. I have to. I need to.

In the first quarter of 2012, a scientist named Alexander Stuart Khaimov discovered a technological means to immortality. That is to say, Dr. Khaimov fulfilled one of the longest running pursuits of the human race – the desire to defeat death.

This isn't a confession. You can't prove a damn thing, so don't even try. I'll deny it to my grave. I'm on my third drink for the evening anyways. You can't trust the word of a drunken man. That's when I start to feel anything these days, the third drink. Sometimes it takes four, but usually three will do. It's the same cycle every night for weeks now, I drink, then I start to feel, then the fear comes over me, then I drink some more until I pass out.

I moved into town a few weeks ago. I got a new place to live, a new dead-end job, and a new start. I’ll come right out and say it, I’ve been running away from a sordid past my entire life. Well, that’s not exactly true. To be more specific, I’ve been running away from myself. What do I mean by that you ask? Well, I often fall into situations where my true colors show. When that happens, I’m forced to move away and try to start anew.

It has always been an auspicious prospect for most children. A new house means new neighbors, a new yard, new friends, and a new school. A new house, for a boy of nine, means a new adventure. Well, at least until one has settled in. My parents and I decided to move due to a few contentious issues that had arisen in our previous town. More precisely, I had begun to fight with the other children.

Normally you sleep soundly, but the thunderstorm raging outside is stirring you from your sleep. You begin to doze, then another crash jolts you awake. The cycle lasts most of the night. So you lay there, eyes open and outward, looking at your room stretching out before you in oblong shadows. Your eyes move from nameless object, to object, until you reach your mirror, sitting adjacent to you across the room.

It had been a long, tiring day at work. It was quiet as I waited alone for the train. It was a bit after midnight, and so dark that I could only see the square foot around me that the small light illuminated. Fortunately, I wasn’t stuck waiting long for the train. Eagerly, I ran in the second the doors opened.

My son and I often play games, he's five years old so our games can range from pirate battles in the middle of the ocean to simple board games like snakes and ladders. Today we decided to play hide and seek. I counted to fifty while he went to hide in one of the three hiding places that he always picks. 'Ready or not, here I come' I called, as I slowly made my way to the sofa. I looked down and there he was two little feet sticking out from behind the sofa, accompanied by muffled laughter.

At about the age of ten, I saw him once but not again. The man who came from out of town, The man who wore the blood-soaked crown. It was the night of Friday eve, Which from my bed I did not leave. Out my window I stole a glance, And saw him there just by chance. He was tall and thin and made of dark, His mere presence made dogs bark. For from his shape he whistled high, A tune so eerie I can’t deny.

The scene: An idyllic houshold, with no peculiarities. The cast: A traditional nuclear family, living caricatures from a Norman Rockwell piece. The parents make small talk as they all eat a breakfast of bacon and eggs. The children hurriedly scarf down the meal, eager for school. The mother picks up the dishes and together they walk out the door to begin the day. Their footsteps make no noise as they walk on the black dirt where grass grew once upon a time. The father takes a whiff of the…

In Minneapolis Minnesota a long abandoned hospital was under reconstruction. The hospital, St Anne's Mercy, was original founded in 1802. The hospital housed the quarantined patients suffering from illnesses such Yellow Fever, smallpox and leprosy. It also housed the mentally ill and abandoned of all ages for many years.

In my hometown, Park City, Utah, things are usually pretty quiet and easygoing due to it being the so called, “Number 1 Ski Town” on Earth by about 15 different ski magazines. Not much happens other than the Sundance Film Festival and ski season. I am telling you this to give you some background and to let you realize that nothing paranormal or odd ever happens here or to any of it’s people.