#psychological

Her head felt hazy. Something was wrong—she could feel it, the way you feel a storm before it breaks. Something bad was coming. She tried to open her eyes. Her body felt heavy, weighted down, as if invisible hands were pressing her into the floor. And somewhere close, someone was crying. Her eyelids fluttered open. A girl was lying on top of her, weeping into her chest. Panic surged through Jasmine—she shoved the girl away before her mind could catch up with her body.

I was in the schoolyard when, suddenly, my friend Christopher Satin or as i call him, Chris, told me: "Damian, I have something to tell you. I’ve known you since we were little, so I wanted you to be the first person I told." Chris was always one for jokes; his personality matched his appearance—a skinny, 5'7 guy with curly, shoulder-length blonde hair. Seeing him look so serious worried me; he’s usually terrible at acting serious, so I had a feeling he was probably not faking it.

Ethan always arrived ten minutes early. It wasn’t something he’d planned. It had simply become part of his routine, the same way he always ordered the same coffee, chose the same table, and sat facing the front window. The café was small, tucked between a bookstore and a pharmacy. The furniture was mismatched, the windows were usually streaked with rain, and the woman behind the counter had a habit of forgetting people’s names. Ethan liked it there. Especially on Thursdays.

Plot: It is the year 1929. Stanley Fontaine, an American writer of mystical horror novels, is forced to leave his city after losing his inspiration. After many years, he decides to travel to Louisiana on the Eastern Express, where the staff is of the highest calibre and nothing seems to foreshadow any misfortune. Yet soon he begins to realise that what we see is not always reality, and that most people have grown accustomed to living in sweet flattery. This very carriage conceals a multitude of…

I'm a Disney fanatic; if you were to ask me something, I'd know it. But sometimes you don't know EVERYTHING Disney does..

After they came to our door, my sibling stopped being a “problem.” That’s what my parents wanted, at least. But all I can remember is them being a normal kid. Yeah, they caused trouble sometimes–but they were young. That’s it. That’s all it was. Nothing that wouldn’t have passed on its own. And that’s exactly what those two people promised when they showed up. They didn’t look strange at first. Just calm. Polite. Like they’d done this a hundred times before. Five minutes, they said.

In June this year, my son came up in one of my lobster pots. He'd been dead nearly seven years. I'll explain that. But I wanted you to have it first, the way I had it, on the deck of my boat at half five on a Sunday morning in June, with the tide going slack in the Narrows and the gulls screaming and the pot coming up over the gunwale dripping, and something in it that wasn't a lobster. Once you know the rest, you'll not hear it the same.

He smelled like blood. I could smell him from a good distance away. The scent lingered in the air well after he’d gone - a coppery tang mixed in with his cheap perfume. It was that smell before I first looked upon his face that told me there was something very wrong with him.

The widow, Laura, walked into the garden. Cracked Stone walls surrounded her, their green vines slithering toward bushes plump with blood-red berries. At the center of the garden stood a rectangular stone basin shaped like an angel. It knelt before the pool as if to deliver water from its mouth. Yet what flowed was bleak black water, filled with sticks and the smal bodies of dying insects. When she was younger, she remembered tossing coins and watching them sink into the water's darkness.…

“HELP!” I yell, at least I believe I’m yelling, the feeling of my skin bubbling, is it bubbling… I don’t know. I can feel it, but I don’t know if it is what I think it is. I am or at least what I believe I am… I don’t know. It’s cold wait what does cold feel like again sigh I think I sighed. My body grows old and decayed, my flesh turning a colour I cannot perceive, my hair falling out of my grotesque scalp or what’s left of it. He… no, IT did this. My senses have been stripped away from me, I…

"What are you gazing at...? What's there outside the window...?" "Outside the window...? Nothing." "Nothing? Looking at nothing?" "It's her... my... my ghostly girl." Beloved women... They, like a sudden downpour, come, turn you into themselves, and vanish… leaving you… leaving you alone with your own shadow called sorrow.

It was Halloween in the year 2015. I remember waking up at 7AM, feeling stoked for Halloween and watching Charlie Brown. I saw people from outside my neighborhood decorating at the last minute because a lot of people like slacking on Halloween.

Oct 10 - Today is cloudy Starting today, I'm going to keep a diary! My family includes little Jack, my mom, and the "Red Devil" too! My mom and the Red Devil are always getting into fights! It’s a total blast—whenever the Red Devil comes home drunk, a fight with Mom breaks out. Little Jack is really timid and just cries when he sees it, but I actually find it fun! Oct 11 - Today is warm

I was five when the man in the wolfman mask scared the shit out of me. No, he didn’t eat me. No, he didn’t kill me. He just gave me one good Halloween scare.

This story is meant to scare people. It's a little different from what i do. Even tho it is fictional it is a very hard creepypasta and i suggest to be careful while reading it. Have fun. Alaska. Monday December 12 1768. 9PM.

It's hard to imagine strange things like those you could hear on the road from chance fellow travelers. The muffled clatter of iron footsteps bringing a soothing rhythm to the capricious flow of life. Fragrant steam rising above an almost cozy little table infecting the soul with a sense of weightlessness. And memories out loud free from the etiquette of dependence.

EVIL_BILLY57 AKA BILLIAM DALE EDWARDS IS AN ROBLOX HACKER BUT THE ONLY GAME HE WOULD HACK IS DANDY'S WORLD, HE HACK THE GAME IN AN WAY TO MAKE IT THAT 1 RANDOM TOON YOU'RE PLAYING WITH WIIL HAS AN HYPNOTIZED SMILE , CLOSED EYES AND AN SOMETHING USED FOR MURDER, THERE IS NO KNOWN WAYS TO SAVE THAT TOON FROM KILLING THEIRSELF AND WHEN IT HAPPEN, YOU WOULD HAS AN 5 STAGES VIRUS

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.

The first time my neighbor asked if I was new here I said yes. The second time I told her she'd already asked. This started in the parking area of an old apartment building. It was evening and my cousin and I were sitting there talking about random things. The building was old. The paint was faded. The balconies looked worn out and there were cracks in some of the walls. Nothing looked scary. It just felt strange. And it was very quiet.

I. The House With No Sound It began with a hum.