The game was almost over, but things didn’t get easier. I knew that the Rot wouldn’t let me win this. I had to plan ahead. I could tell that judging from the last 2, the final candles would both be in one of the main areas of the park: the circus, and the rides in the center of the grounds. I checked my map, looking to see which was closest, and from what I could tell, I was just between the two areas, between whichever hell I would suffer through first. I peeked my head out of the door of the shack, which I had opened a few minutes earlier to let the light in, and carefully weighed my options.…

I wandered through the stalls a bit, trying to use my map to figure out where I was, and the quickest way to get to the lake. The way I saw it, I wouldn’t have to struggle as much to put the candle out since it would already be surrounded by water, but first, I’d have to actually navigate my way to the lake. After a few hours worth of figuring out where exactly in the park I was, I began my trek to the lake. Usually, a walk like this would take hours back when the park was open, especially because of the crowds. Not to say it was popular, it was just that the park wasn’t really designed…

My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it. I don’t like the passionless white-skied coldness, or the stark freeze of the deep dark night where you can see your breath billowing out from you like a smokestack, and I especially don’t like when the sky is a deceptive bright blue and all sunny, the rippled clouds all golden and hazy purple, and you go outside thinking it’ll be warm and it’s still fucking…

I tried not to panic as I watched The Rot lurch up from the ground, hobbling as it began to search for me, its mouth twitching and its bones cracking as it moved, it limped and crawled around, occasionally taking a second or two to sniff the air. Slowly, it spoke, its voice still loud and deafening. “Where are yooooou?” It called, tauntingly, I could hear it chuckling as it searched. “Jonaaaaaah…” I slowly navigated to the exit of the warehouse, reaching for the exit and… “THERE YOU ARE!”  shouted The Rot, charging at a speed I didn’t know was possible. I was barely able to shut the door as The Rot slammed into it, each time stronger than the…

I’ve heard all about all of the little “games” from the internet, little rituals with beings that hunt you, games that people spread stories about, games that people get wishes for, I feel jealous of them, most of the time it’s just a prank, or if something does happen, at least they’ll more than likely survive. I find it annoying whenever I spot one of those clickbait videos, (PLAYING BLOODY MARY AT 3:00 AM!), because they mock the people who made these stories, or in my case, encounters. My name is Jonah, but I prefer to be called Jon, and I am here to document my account of the ritual game known as “The Candles” I guess I should start…

Ah! Halloween! My favorite time of year! People rushing to the stores to stock up on candy, children dressing up as monsters to scare people, the many horror films shown on TV and in cinemas… In short! A dream come true! I can’t think of a more effervescent festival than this one! That was the case a year ago, but not anymore. This year, nobody celebrates Halloween anymore. The streets are completely deserted, and the city’s stores are all closed on this day. So much so that even the word “Halloween” has been banished from the locals’ vocabulary. I think I’m still one of the few people who fantasize about this holiday. The police and the city did everything in…

(Authors note: This is a rewrite of my first ever pasta from the creepypasta wiki. I hope you all enjoy!) There’s lots of rumors going around our town here, rumors that there’s something or someone in the woods, watching, waiting for people to lose themselves in the oaks and pines before they strike. I’ve heard all the stories, sightings of things in the woods that don’t belong, a man with a goat skull, little grey men, and many other supposed “sightings” of creatures that can’t exist. I remember that the rumors started with the disappearance of Ian Kladaki, way back in 1989 when he went on a hiking and camping  trip with his friends, and although they weren’t the first…

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 remember all the local conspiracy theories surrounding this place, from before this whole monstrosity happened. Originally, the research center was just a small hospital situated in the middle of town, until the military suddenly seized it and made it their own building. Nobody really knew why, but almost everyone thought it had to do with the Copycats. Sam stayed behind with Janet, saying he wanted to keep them safe, so…

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of flying. I mean… who hasn’t dreamed of flying? It’s the most wonderful thing there is. I still remember, as a youngster, my afternoons spent scanning the sky, trying to make out shapes in the clouds. Who hasn’t? A rabbit, a dragon, a monster or even a car. Watching the clouds has never been so stimulating for our imagination. However, I wanted to be more than just a spectator. I wanted to swim in this ocean of lightness, to split the skies like a bird: free as a bird and with no one to disturb you. What a wonderful feeling! I even remember believing that clouds were actually made of cotton,…

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. There aren’t many Copycats in this area anymore. I guess they got bored after a week or so without food and moved on. And I guess this book was all that was left…

Nobody remembers when they appeared, some think they have been here since the beginning of time and space, or at least since the first human existed, others think they came into existence more recently. I personally don’t care where they come from, or how they got here, I only really care about keeping myself alive. The copycats, that’s what we call them. Most of the time they look almost human, trying to copy the appearances of their last victims. I say almost, because they often appear as tall as the streetlights, or have big bulging eyes and smiles with too many teeth. Some of them can speak too, sort of as a way to lure us out. In reality, most…

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. There aren’t many Copycats in this area anymore. I guess they got bored after a week or so without food and moved on. And I guess this book was all that was left…

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 remember all the local conspiracy theories surrounding this place, from before this whole monstrosity happened. Originally, the research center was just a small hospital situated in the middle of town, until the military suddenly seized it and made it their own building. Nobody really knew why, but almost everyone thought it had to do with the Copycats. Sam stayed behind with Janet, saying he wanted to keep them safe, so…

In the fall of 1979 Martin “Marty” Joseph was a 23-year-old rookie highway patrolman with the Pennsylvania State Police.  Marty was fresh out of the academy, and before that had been a star football player at Temple University in Philadelphia, before returning to his native Western Pennsylvania to attend the State Police Academy. He was tall, stout and handsome by traditional standards. Dark brown hair that he kept high and tight in accordance with the state police regulations. He had dark brown eyes, and a sharp jawline with high cheekbones. He was the envy of all the older officers at his station, many of whom were nearing retirement and jealous of Marty’s imposing physique and boyish charms. He had only…

I’ve heard all about all of the little “games” from the internet, little rituals with beings that hunt you, games that people spread stories about, games that people get wishes for, I feel jealous of them, most of the time it’s just a prank, or if something does happen, at least they’ll more than likely survive. I find it annoying whenever I spot one of those clickbait videos, (PLAYING BLOODY MARY AT 3:00 AM!), because they mock the people who made these stories, or in my case, encounters. My name is Jonah, but I prefer to be called Jon, and I am here to document my account of the ritual game known as “The Candles” I guess I should start…

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of flying. I mean… who hasn’t dreamed of flying? It’s the most wonderful thing there is. I still remember, as a youngster, my afternoons spent scanning the sky, trying to make out shapes in the clouds. Who hasn’t? A rabbit, a dragon, a monster or even a car. Watching the clouds has never been so stimulating for our imagination. However, I wanted to be more than just a spectator. I wanted to swim in this ocean of lightness, to split the skies like a bird: free as a bird and with no one to disturb you. What a wonderful feeling! I even remember believing that clouds were actually made of cotton,…

The autumn of 1944 was particularly cold in northern Romania, and Anselo found himself huddled very near the warm glow of his campfire on most nights. He had been traveling for months, trying his best to lead his new Soviet “comrades” through the mountains of his homeland, so that they may be able to help liberate Transylvania from Nazi control. Thus far all he had known was bloodshed and hardship, but it seemed that the Soviets were making ground, and he had heard recently that the Allies had launched a full invasion in the west. When will it all be over? He thought to himself as he wrapped his  patched coat as tight as he could to his ever thinning…

I tried not to panic as I watched The Rot lurch up from the ground, hobbling as it began to search for me, its mouth twitching and its bones cracking as it moved, it limped and crawled around, occasionally taking a second or two to sniff the air. Slowly, it spoke, its voice still loud and deafening. “Where are yooooou?” It called, tauntingly, I could hear it chuckling as it searched. “Jonaaaaaah…” I slowly navigated to the exit of the warehouse, reaching for the exit and… “THERE YOU ARE!”  shouted The Rot, charging at a speed I didn’t know was possible. I was barely able to shut the door as The Rot slammed into it, each time stronger than the…

My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it. I don’t like the passionless white-skied coldness, or the stark freeze of the deep dark night where you can see your breath billowing out from you like a smokestack, and I especially don’t like when the sky is a deceptive bright blue and all sunny, the rippled clouds all golden and hazy purple, and you go outside thinking it’ll be warm and it’s still fucking…

(Authors note: This is a rewrite of my first ever pasta from the creepypasta wiki. I hope you all enjoy!) There’s lots of rumors going around our town here, rumors that there’s something or someone in the woods, watching, waiting for people to lose themselves in the oaks and pines before they strike. I’ve heard all the stories, sightings of things in the woods that don’t belong, a man with a goat skull, little grey men, and many other supposed “sightings” of creatures that can’t exist. I remember that the rumors started with the disappearance of Ian Kladaki, way back in 1989 when he went on a hiking and camping  trip with his friends, and although they weren’t the first…

Nobody remembers when they appeared, some think they have been here since the beginning of time and space, or at least since the first human existed, others think they came into existence more recently. I personally don’t care where they come from, or how they got here, I only really care about keeping myself alive. The copycats, that’s what we call them. Most of the time they look almost human, trying to copy the appearances of their last victims. I say almost, because they often appear as tall as the streetlights, or have big bulging eyes and smiles with too many teeth. Some of them can speak too, sort of as a way to lure us out. In reality, most…

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. There aren’t many Copycats in this area anymore. I guess they got bored after a week or so without food and moved on. And I guess this book was all that was left…

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 remember all the local conspiracy theories surrounding this place, from before this whole monstrosity happened. Originally, the research center was just a small hospital situated in the middle of town, until the military suddenly seized it and made it their own building. Nobody really knew why, but almost everyone thought it had to do with the Copycats. Sam stayed behind with Janet, saying he wanted to keep them safe, so…

In the fall of 1979 Martin “Marty” Joseph was a 23-year-old rookie highway patrolman with the Pennsylvania State Police.  Marty was fresh out of the academy, and before that had been a star football player at Temple University in Philadelphia, before returning to his native Western Pennsylvania to attend the State Police Academy. He was tall, stout and handsome by traditional standards. Dark brown hair that he kept high and tight in accordance with the state police regulations. He had dark brown eyes, and a sharp jawline with high cheekbones. He was the envy of all the older officers at his station, many of whom were nearing retirement and jealous of Marty’s imposing physique and boyish charms. He had only…

The autumn of 1944 was particularly cold in northern Romania, and Anselo found himself huddled very near the warm glow of his campfire on most nights. He had been traveling for months, trying his best to lead his new Soviet “comrades” through the mountains of his homeland, so that they may be able to help liberate Transylvania from Nazi control. Thus far all he had known was bloodshed and hardship, but it seemed that the Soviets were making ground, and he had heard recently that the Allies had launched a full invasion in the west. When will it all be over? He thought to himself as he wrapped his  patched coat as tight as he could to his ever thinning…

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of flying. I mean… who hasn’t dreamed of flying? It’s the most wonderful thing there is. I still remember, as a youngster, my afternoons spent scanning the sky, trying to make out shapes in the clouds. Who hasn’t? A rabbit, a dragon, a monster or even a car. Watching the clouds has never been so stimulating for our imagination. However, I wanted to be more than just a spectator. I wanted to swim in this ocean of lightness, to split the skies like a bird: free as a bird and with no one to disturb you. What a wonderful feeling! I even remember believing that clouds were actually made of cotton,…

(Authors note: This is a rewrite of my first ever pasta from the creepypasta wiki. I hope you all enjoy!) There’s lots of rumors going around our town here, rumors that there’s something or someone in the woods, watching, waiting for people to lose themselves in the oaks and pines before they strike. I’ve heard all the stories, sightings of things in the woods that don’t belong, a man with a goat skull, little grey men, and many other supposed “sightings” of creatures that can’t exist. I remember that the rumors started with the disappearance of Ian Kladaki, way back in 1989 when he went on a hiking and camping  trip with his friends, and although they weren’t the first…

The small town of Ravenswood was plagued by a terrifying creature, known as the Dogman. It was said to be a creature that was half-man half-dog, with glowing red eyes and razor-sharp teeth. It was a creature of legend, but the people of Ravenswood knew it to be all too real. It had been attacking and killing their livestock for months, and the town was in a state of crippling fear. The citizens couldn’t go one night, without hearing the next dawn, of one of their own being picked away in the night. Who among them they always wondered, could stand against such a terrifying scourge. This beast, this dogman, he’d proven to be too much even for the police…

My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it. I don’t like the passionless white-skied coldness, or the stark freeze of the deep dark night where you can see your breath billowing out from you like a smokestack, and I especially don’t like when the sky is a deceptive bright blue and all sunny, the rippled clouds all golden and hazy purple, and you go outside thinking it’ll be warm and it’s still fucking…

I tended to hate Halloween. Don’t get me wrong; the candy was always something I would look forward to. Hershey bars were especially my favorite. No, what I disliked about Halloween was dressing up. I’m certain you would find it odd as to why that is. My family had been through some hard times and as such, we often recycled cloths to create Halloween costumes. I was always made fun of because of my raggedy costumes. One time I went as a ghost and the costume was a mix match of fabrics that were different sizes. It was grotesque in appearance. It was badly stitched with different colors of yarn. I could barely leave home without someone laughing it off…