Bloody Mary Creepypasta Novels & Stories

she snapped, “I need to get back the shop before the boss has my head. Is this about the Bloody Barbies again?” Bloody Barbie was the nickname Maria gave to the murders ever since she’d gotten involved as a suspect. It was an apt name. Each crime scene that had been investigated was painted red with each victim’s blood, and in each one there would be a bloody doll left behind (though, not exactly a Barbie), no less than three feet away from the body.

Mary asked without thinking. “Yeah….apparently they found traces of blood in his bedroom, strange stuff…..especially as it started to climb up the wall and down the ceiling toward the window. Buts that’s just gossip” the barman said walking round the other side of the bar. The pub remained quiet apart from the soft sound of music from the jukebox. Summer slipped into a daydream, imagining that poor boys disappearance, and for the first time remembering that menacing smile from that woman, that had given her a deadly chill through her body, as if someone had walked over her grave.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Mr. Jeffers, I promise you this is real. I've done the research, and what I find most intriguing is Darick 'The Bloodthirsty’, leader of The Brooklyn Blood Brothers, has done some horrible things that’ll surely make the front page,” I explained, trying to keep my voice even. "Such as…?" Mr. Jeffers waved his hand, motioning for me to continue. "Rumor has it that he leaves gruesome bite marks on the neck of his victims," I whispered, hoping the suspense would win Mr. Jeffers over. “Vampiristic marks.”

Blood seeped from her eyes as she passed out. “I am Mary. I am the swamp. I am a god. I am your destroyer.” Then she lifted off the ground still in Cindy’s body and hovered over them. She looked toward the house and laughed. “Even your blind seer cannot help you.” She flung her hand, and as she did, they heard Katie scream out in pain inside the house. They tried to get up, but they were frozen in place. The witch flew higher and higher then flew off in a streak across the trees deep into the swamp and disappeared.

"If you don't want to help, I will!" I started walking. I hadn't taken three steps before the sun suddenly disappeared. The sky darkened a bit as if it was going to rain. I looked at a man with blue eyes. I was surprised to see that vampire. "Who is he? He's handsome!" "Oh my god! Is that what we will see here at school? I'm not leaving!” “Is that Craven? Oh Em Ghieeeee!” I heard the screams of female vampires. They are like cockroaches and bees. My God! They are a pain in the ears!

Nibbling and grazing the golden neck. "Then.. Don’t. Now that I can’t, but if I could I would love to die in your arms" . Callum said, losing himself in Stephen’s arms. The moon was at its peak. Full Blue moon like Stephen eyes that had turned red. He placed his lips on the pulsing vein before barring his teeth. Callum felt a sting and then all he could feel was a frenzy, a euphoria. He now knew why Stephen felt excited offering him his blood.

Candles flickered, goblets rolled, laughter from earlier dissolved into a thick, trembling silence filled with nothing but breath and the low thrum of music. Crescenta felt it first—Martha’s blood ran hot, as though the apple had liquefied into fire in her belly. Her body leaned backward into the warmth of the man behind her before she even realized it. A low, involuntary moan slipped past her lips. She thought of her husband—cold, ancient hands that had never known how to touch her youth. She almost laughed at the cruelty of it, that in this place, with a stranger, she was already wetter than her husband had ever made her. When the man behind her lowered his lips to her ear, asking in a whi

But I just could not help it any longer, being face to face with a wolf had everything flooding into my brain, and I wanted to scream my lungs out. Blood. It was blood that I saw. My parents' blood, spilled on the wooden floor around their heads. I saw their lifeless eyes and still bodies, and wounded faces. I saw my eleven year old self crying and screaming for them to wake up and look at me again, to call me their baby again. But that did not happen, it never happened. And I saw the people that had done that to them, their smug faces and crooked smirks, their hands stained with the blood of my parents, and the set of tattoos on one of their forearms.

Standing in the hallway next to the lengthy escalator, her eyes wobbled tremendously in their sockets at the sight of Mary, unconscious, lying on the floor in a pool of her own… Blood. “N-n-n-no! Mary!”

“Hurry, this won’t hold her for long!” Marigold runs back up the stairs, knocking on doors as she makes her way down the hall. “Code Black! CODE BLACK!” She screams, the sound of her slippers clattering behind her. Turning my attention back to Slone I gasp. Red veins spider web from the edges of her eyes, her lips are bloody and covered in blisters that have begun to fill with pus. “What the hell happened to her?” I scream at nobody in particular. “Did she get bitten by a vampire?”