#creepypasta

My therapist suggested I start writing my thoughts down in a journal, saying it will supposedly help me understand and process my emotions, and I’ll get to know myself better as a result. I am sceptical, but what the hell, I’ll give it a shot! I have never kept a journal before, so I have no clue how to start… Uhm, hello, I guess. I’m me and I’m writing this to myself… Do I introduce myself now? To whom? I already know myself, and I highly doubt anyone else is ever going to read this, except my…

This whole story started three days ago. I was on the bus, listening to music, when I spotted a black umbrella on one of the empty seats. At first, I hesitated to take it. It may sound strange, but I always feel a little guilty taking something that doesn't belong to me, even when it's abandoned. However, it never lasts very long and I end up taking it home. If I don't get it back, who will? I grabbed it as I got off the bus. It was a bit of a windfall. That day, it was pouring with rain and,…

This story is based off of the famous ABANDONED BY DISNEY creepypasta series that was made by Slimebeast I won't deny that anything creepy happens at Disney’s parks, in fact, quite the opposite. I believe in all the stories, all the urban myths and legends, I believe them because I have seen one. I know all the stories. People disappearing, strange scenery, animatronics moving on their own,out of place objects. More importantly, the Utilidors.

I want to start by saying that if you’re someone who thinks the beta of Luigi’s Mansion is better than the final game, you are wrong. This is a bold statement, but the beta is complete garbage. How do I know this? I worked as a game developer and assistant during the process.

What is more loyal than a friend but also as sticky as chewing gum? At first glance, the question may seem strange. Well! OK! It's strange. It was asked of me by a drunk friend in the middle of a New Year's Eve party. Let's just say it quickly left my mind. And yet, as short and abstract as it is, it has the merit of resonating with my situation.

(Authors note: This is a rewrite of my first ever pasta from the creepypasta wiki. I hope you all enjoy!)

When Jade was only twelve-years-old, her father came home one afternoon with his arms and legs covered in claw marks. Jade felt confused and excited about his appearance. While she didn’t like seeing her dad hurt, she wondered if he finally bought her the cat or dog she wanted. He wasn’t good with animals and she figured it must have attacked him on the car ride home. To Jade’s dismay, he didn’t bear hug her or call her his “little troll,” a nickname he gave her for the vibrantly colored hair…

I really like Mario games, and I still do to this day. I have so much love for everything in the games, but the Mario game I enjoyed the most was 'Luigi’s Mansion.' That game freaked me out at times, but it was very enjoyable to play, and it’s really cool to hear about it now after first seeing it.

LAB EXPLORATION DAY 1: Randy: We made it to the research facility after about two days. There were so  many close calls that I almost lost count. There were the obvious threats, the false copycats and Mimickers were at almost every damn turn we made, but we made it.

I was 32 when I married Ashley, the love of my life. The daughter of two wildly successful divorce lawyers, she carried her wit as well as she carried her elegance. Taking after her mother, she was blessed with strikingly Baltic features, and taking after her father, she was perhaps the sweetest and most genuine soul I had ever met. In other words, she was perfect.

When I was a kid I used to play down by the creek that was behind my house. I'd throw rocks, play with plastic army men, make little houses out of mud and sticks having them sink into the creek. On a particular hot day in July when I was about nine I was sitting by the edge of the creek. I had my feet in the water trying to cool down as the day was unbearably humid. I had my eyes closed and didn't hear her walk up. "Hello" I heard an older voice say. I open my eyes and see a thin middle aged…

I hate Mondays. It’s a generic thing, but I just loathe having to go to work after the weekend. Anyway, I’m done with it, so I guess I can’t complain now. I recently purchased a house for a surprisingly good deal out in the woods. It’s a pretty nice place, other than sometimes the cellular mysteriously goes out for hours at a time.

Every single night, at midnight, I am startled awake by the sound of something moving in my living room. At first, I thought it was house noises until I heard crying in the hallway. I called an exterminator to see if I had some type of animal living in my walls. Nothing was found. The exterminator recommended security cameras in case someone was breaking and entering.

Its been 6 hours since I sent my message. Seen, but no reply. Something must have happened. Maybe he’s hurt? It’s not unlikely that he tripped and hit his head. His apartment is a mess after all. I push my chair out, arising  into a panicked loop as I walk a figure eight around my room. My feet kick against bottles and cans, my foot swings and an old pizza box is sent flying, launching stale crusts across the room. Maybe he’s ignoring me? No, of course not. He’s not like that.

They say that only the truly desperate would invite the Devil for dinner. Not because of the meal itself, but because the entire ritual is a gamble—a dangerous game where the stakes are your very soul. If you play it right, though, there’s a chance you can walk away with exactly what you desire. The trick is in the details.

I've worked as a lunch lady/cafeteria worker for close to a year now and it's the best job I've ever had.

I do not know this man. I do not know this man in the mirror. The one staring right back at me, moving his eyes to reflect wherever I look. He does every single thing I do. Makes every single face, pokes back at fingers aimed against the glass, and turns his back when I turn mine. To the untrained eye, it looks as any normal reflection does; behaves as any mirror is designed to do. There is nothing obviously out of the ordinary that would arouse suspicions otherwise.

I was always told to stay out of the old garden behind the house. My parents kept saying it was unsafe, overgrown, and full of thorns. I believed them, as children believe their parents. When I grew up and moved back into the family home after they passed away, I decided to clear out that forgotten space. I wanted to reclaim it, make it mine.

I didn't remember how I got there. One moment, I was somewhere ordinary—a grocery store, maybe my car—and the next, I was standing in the polished hallway of a sprawling mansion. The floors gleamed like polished obsidian under chandeliers that glittered coldly overhead. The place was immaculate, almost painfully so, but something about it felt wrong.

Since the 1990s, people from all over the world have received a series of strange phone calls dubbed the ‘Wake Up Calls’, from an unknown caller. These calls at first, according to witnesses, seem like mundane calls from telemarketers or people calling the wrong number. Though shortly after, usually after the 3rd or 4th call, the calls seem to take on a more eerie and bizarre air about them.