#creepypasta

Under gravel and twisting roots there lies an intricate system of life, hundreds of sizes smaller than our species. Like pale, empty veins they stretch out to dig downwards into damp soil. It is dark. Darker than sunless skies. The realm underground is the realm of corpses. They settle between debris like shells pushed under sand by careless ocean waves. Deeper, and deeper. While you walk overhead on solid ground, thinking of the casual facets of life, corpses are clawing overhead themselves,…

Henry had always been a bit different. As a child, he was quiet, more interested in books and toys than in other children. He grew up alone, but he never seemed to mind. His mother, Grace, worried that her son wasn't making any friends, but Henry always reassured her that he was fine just the way he was.

I used to think grown-ups always knew what was right. They seemed to have all the answers, like they were in control of everything. Back then, I thought there were rules for how things worked, even in little moments—like the way someone should look at you, or how a touch was supposed to feel. But nobody ever explained what it meant when something felt… different. When a look lingered too long, or a hand stayed where it shouldn’t.

I would like to unburden myself a little, because I am very worried about this.To begin with, I don't know if you'll understand me when I say that we, as individuals, have a kind of 'vibe'—the thing that helps us differentiate and recognize people. It's like an aura, or maybe it's the soul. An example of this would be when you meet someone you haven't seen in a long time, and even if their appearance has changed, you still recognize them, like they have an inner spark that remains the same.We…

I had everything a man could ever want. A beautiful wife, two wonderful kids, and a cozy house on a quiet street. Life was good—perfect, even. My wife, Emily, had the kind of laugh that could light up a room. Our kids, Lily and James, were the most precious little souls. I remember taking Lily to her first day of school, watching James learn to ride his bike. Simple, mundane moments that filled my heart with a warmth I never knew I could feel.

I am a single mother of three boys who was recently divorced. James, my eldest son, is twelve years old and has just begun secondary school. He is very smart; loves science and wishes to work as a biologist after he graduates from varsity. Without a doubt, I see him pursuing a career in that area. George, my 10-year-old second oldest son, is a creative little prodigy who enjoys painting and modeling clay sculptures. Lastly, Kevin, my 4-year-old son. Kevin is such a sweetheart! Even though he…

When I was young, we were left unattended. My friends and I rode our bikes deep into the fields and returned at our leisure. We rarely played in the same location and often ditched it after a few days. With each new adventure, we drifted further from civilization, and one day, we struck gold, figuratively speaking of course.

In the late 18th century in upstate New York a pastor and his family; his wife, young daughter, maid and himself were all found dead inside their home. Cause of death was identified as quadruple suicide.

October 1st, 2024 I don't know what's happening to me. It started small—a little itch under the skin of my left arm. At first, I thought it was just a bug bite. But then the itching spread. Now, it feels like something's moving underneath my flesh. I've started documenting it to make sense of it all. Maybe this is just a weird infection. Maybe I'm overreacting. October 3rd, 2024

By my word, this is the truth I tell. When I was a young boy, I used to live at a secluded farm next to an abandoned railroad. The nearest town wasn’t for hundreds of miles; my father drove there once a week to get groceries for the week. One day, I was playing in the woods around our property when I heard a voice calling for help. I ventured deeper into the woods until I saw a man.

This morning, I cleaned out my closet to create space, and I discovered a plastic bin filled with childhood memories. Being sentimental, I removed the bin and began searching through it. The bin mostly contained artwork from my elementary school years, and the majority of them were scribbles or fingerpaintings on bright construction paper. In particular, a crayon drawing of my entire 3rd grade class drew my attention. I have to say that I must have been quite the artist back in the day because…

*Disclaimer: This story was based on true events that have happened to me* Everyone has that eerie sensation some time in their life. Some are able to explain the phenomenon, while others can’t. It’s that feeling of someone, or something, watching you. It’s that unknown experience when either dread or curiosity can get the best of you.

A single unfinished opera entitled 'The Matinee of the Damned' is an incomplete and cursed piece of music that has plagued the eyes, ears and hearts of those who bear witness to this piece and has taken the lives of those who dare to try and finish the ballad.

Before my best friend's wedding, we rented a cabin in South Carolina from a company called Moose Estates. We stayed there a full week with four of our closest buddies who were the rest of the groomsmen. The cabin was situated near Redwood Lake, and a river named Cripple Creek fed into the lake about a half mile from the property. It really was a peaceful place. I remember lying in bed and being able to hear the river babbling along if I listened close enough. There was an eerie calmness that…

“What’s got you in such a sour mood, Brandon? It’s payday!” my veteran colleague Vinson asked as the rusty freight elevator noisily rattled its way up towards the penthouse suite.

In 1976 a new roll coaster was unveiled in Kings Island amusement park in Mason, Ohio. The roller coaster was called 'The Depths' and was at the time the longest roller coaster ever built; and it was only to be operated during October to celebrate Halloween. Having an 'annual' coaster was the park's latest idea of a holiday gimmick to keep attendance up during the chilly autumn season. Their big promotion and tagline for the coaster was: 'While in the Depths no can hear you scream'.

Hello, reader, if there is anyone around to read this old journal in this wasteland. I want to say that no, I’m not the man who previously owned this journal, although I find his story quite interesting. Unfortunately, as you can probably tell, he didn’t last long outside of his apartment. I originally came here looking for food for me and the rest of my camp. There used to be nearly 30 of us, but then the monsters wiped the camp out, and only us 5 remained.

Earlier in the month, I was sitting on my window seat and daydreaming, watching the sun disappear behind the Sierra Nevada mountains. I had been reading a crime novel when I recalled an old family tradition. During the holidays, my mother would light candles and place them on the window sill. As I was growing up, I never knew the real purpose of lighting these candles. I always thought they were a part of decorating our house for Christmas, and my mother insisted that the candles helped Santa…

In case you’ve been following along with the events at the gas station on my blog, I apologize that my website was taken down so abruptly. For some reason, the city council found my public record of local events to be “troubling”--to the point that they hired a fancy Orwellian legal team to bury me in cease and desists. I tried fighting back, but as of last week, it looks like my entire site has been retroactively erased from existence. Presumably, these are the same guys who’ve been scrubbing…

Emily’s sightseeing expedition through Avalon included a trip to some of the notable local historical landmarks and the remains of an ancient Celtic settlement - one of many dotting the area surrounding our new home. ‘This town has a lot of history,’ Emily told me as we trudged past a pair of standing stones. They stood facing one another on either side of the road running to the left of us. ‘I’ve been reading up about it at the library. It's quite the rabbit hole to dive into.’