#thriller

They tell you nostalgia is a warm blanket. They lie. Nostalgia is a rotting canvas, and the paint never quite dried.

I was seventeen years old when my father took us out of Boston. I loved the idea! Or at least I thought I would. For many years afterward, whenever someone asked where the trouble began, I told them it began in those mountains. That wasn’t true… It began long before we saw them.

It started as a whisper in the static. I bought the old farmhouse on the edge of Blackwood township because the price was impossibly low, and the solitude was exactly what I needed to finish my thesis. Clara, my girlfriend of three years, was hesitant to move out there with me, but she eventually agreed, hoping the fresh air would do us both some good. We were wrong.

Have You Ever Had A Sibling That You Couldn't Stand All The Time And You Wish They Would Go Away Completely,Well Let Me Just Say That Wish May Seem Good At First,And Now Years Later I Regret Making That Wish,When I Was Kid I Had A Little Sister Named Abby Who Was An Absolute Pest Who Gotten Away With Many Things Due To My Parents Favoring Her Over Me,At The Time I was 13 and She Was 7,Being 7 Abby Would Always Cause Things To Make Me Mad By Going Into My Room And Taking My Things,She Would…

​Autumn was just beginning in the city of Hynensborg, one of the darkest and rainiest periods of the year. It is also a time when young people look for ways to kill the boredom, often gathering together around a campfire to tell each other dark stories. A group of chemistry students and friends—Noah, Freyr, and Vidar—decided to spend one of the September evenings of the newly begun weekend in precisely this way... ​Free from the worries and cares of daily life, they decided to head to a nearby…

Content warning: child death 1

We didn’t have much to do. Not in Cairo, Georgia anyway. That’s Cairo pronounced with a ‘k’. Kay-Row. Not like the one in Egypt. Instead of pyramids, we had our beloved Cairo High Syrupmakers. But besides those Friday Night Lights, we didn’t have jack shit to be honest. Just an old theater and a museum downtown. There wasn’t much us twelve-year-olds could do even this close to Halloween.

I still can’t sleep with the basement door shut. Even three years later, every time the house settles, I find myself staring at the handle, half-expecting it to slowly turn.

He had no idea how he had ended up in these foul depths, but all he knew was that he needed to find a way out before it was too late. The young Dragonnoid had sworn to himself he would never go into the city, so why was he wandering lost in its forsaken bowels?

Part I

“Dad… is that you?” I don’t know why I asked. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the weight of everything tonight — too much, far too much. My father groaned. His voice was hollow. Raspy. I gripped the desk to steady myself, hands trembling, staring at the hood that hid his face. “How did you get up here?” My voice cracked. Living alone was a mistake. “Find. Your. Sister.” His tone was sharp, the same stern cadence he used when anger boiled beneath his words.

The sky at the end of the cycle went purple and orange, the way it always did, like something slowly bleeding out. Only one of the twin moons was up, and the air was wet and warm. The glowing things the children called shimmer-flies were everywhere, drifting through the tall grass in lazy loops, pulsing soft light.

There was this tiny indie horror movie that basically nobody had seen. I don't even remember how we found it. Maybe TikTok, or maybe someone on Reddit recommended it. It had one of those titles that sounded way cooler after you finished watching it than before, and it looked like it had a budget of maybe twenty dollars. Somehow it still worked. It wasn't really scary in the traditional sense. There weren't any monsters or cheap jump scares. It was just... unsettling.

Everyone loves Disney and their beloved cartoon characters like Mickey mouse, Donald duck, Goofy, Minne Mouse and Daisy duck, Pluto. But what if I tell you that there's something deeper in Disney that we all forgotten a long time ago? You can grab one of their files and it'll be titled. "The Disney Files" Welcome to this Alternative Universe, where it shows you the files of 'The Dark Reflection of Disney'

Sebastian woke up to the sound of a loud and repeated banging on his bedroom door. He opened his eyes slowly: the pounding of each knock enraged every muscle within his head, and amplified his hangover. He groaned to himself as he was in the process of sitting upright in his bed, to find he’d fallen asleep wearing the gray sweat-jacket, jeans, and white shoes that had been worn the day before, and shook his head at the sight of himself. He grabbed his head and groaned louder. His bedroom was…

​Stacy was a diligent office worker-meticulous and thorough. It was a typical, sunny summer day, just like any other. She sat at her desk, buried under a pile of documents to sign and a long list of emails to send. Nothing indicated that her peace was about to be shattered. Her colleague, Michelle, walked into the office, announcing that there was an issue with the ventilation system and that the computers were running louder than usual, though no one knew why.

It’s a late September night, and I’m walking to the Londoun Gateway to catch my train. Sure, it’s midnight, but my cousin Iora called me and told me to get over there immediately. She said she found my dog. My dog Crustin went missing a few years back, and I’d almost forgotten about him, until today. My first thought was: NO WAY! Crustin’s been missing for YEARS, and he’s ALIVE?

My dad Don may as well have been dead this past year. Hell, you could make the argument he may as well have been dead for nearly the past fifty… ever since his brother Tommy passed away from cancer in 1973.

Cry Baby Lane (or JosephTheSnail’s Cry Baby Lane, as titled on Spiral Nightmares) is a thriller creepypasta that retells the 2011 creepypasta of the same name while correcting many of its flaws, most notably the defamation of the real-life director Peter Lauer by replacing his role with an unhinged character who gradually proves to be even more deranged than initially believed, alongside the disturbing, never-before-mentioned-until-now “actual” (not really) history of a goofy Nickelodeon horror…

One day, my mommy and daddy decided to buy a new house so we could move out of our apartment. Mommy had just given birth to my baby sister, Anna. She was nine months old, and I was five. My name is Leon.