Novelas y relatos de Candle Cove Creepypasta

We went outside of the packhouse and we saw the lights from the helicopter hovering above the clearing at the back of the packhouse. It came down to land and we stood there shielding our eyes from the wind off of the propellers and from the bright lights. We heard someone get out of the helicopter and the sound started to die down, which meant they had turned off the engine. A man started to approach us and as soon as he came into view, I recognised him immediately. “Chandler.” I said. “It’s good to see you too Meadow.” He said. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t rip your fucking throat out?” I asked. And he pointed over his shoulder to a man holding a camera, he was recording the whol

°♥｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡♥｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡♥｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡♥｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡♥｡ HI GUYS, THIS IS YOUR AUTHOR CANDYLIC. BEFORE YOU CONTINUE IN THIS STORY, LET ME DESCRIBE SOME THINGS. THE STORY CONTAINS VOILENCE, USE OF GUNS AND MATURE TEXTS.

The night was deep and silent. Only a sliver of moonlight shone in through the windows, casting pale shadows across the house. For some time now, Julian had not allowed the cook to come by. He was afraid that if too many people came and went, the traces left behind by the person who used to live there would fade even faster.

he teased. Ava’s heart raced as the telltale click of a lighter reached her ears. The aromatic scent of the candle reached her, bringing a calming sensation amid the growing anticipation. "I’ve always loved playing with candle wax, you know," Carver whispered, his breath caressing her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He let the candle burn for a moment, the soft glow illuminating the room, casting shadows that danced on the walls. The first drop of melted wax landed on her sensitive skin, and Ava gasped, her back arching in surprise. The warmth spread, fading to a gentle tingle.

CHAPTER THREE Cooper’s Cove lay a mile to the east of Dorsal Finn’s harbour. As with other areas in the town, the large cave, accessible only at low tide, had bad folklore attached to it. The place was known locally as Coven Cove, and its association with witchcraft was no secret amongst the older generations. They took delight—especially around Halloween—in scaring kids with talk about the coven of witches who used to frequent the area, one of whom allegedly wrote The Book of Shadows, a grimoire of great power.

Slowly, I reached out and took the candle from her, watching as the flame danced and flickered in the darkness. It is a strange and eerie scene, one that left me feeling unsettled. As the ritual came to an end, the energy in the room slowly dissipated, leaving behind an eerie silence. The only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the flame and the soft rustle of clothing as Cynthia stood before me, eagerly waiting for my reaction.

We settled into the cozy nook by the window, surrounded by shelves adorned with mystical trinkets and ancient books. With a blend of unease, I began to recount the unsettling visions that had plagued me – the spectral girl, the waterlogged bodies, and the nightmarish river. Coco listened attentively, her eyes filled with empathy and understanding, as if she could feel the weight of my experiences. As I finished describing the visions, Clive added his own observations, emphasizing the urgency of our quest to recover my lost memories and confront the mysterious forces at play. We sought Coco's wisdom, her unique perspective on the supernatural, hoping she could offer guidance or insights that

Heidi then whispered in Caspian's ear, explaining, "Once they are lit up, these candles will exude a fragrance that can attract the flame-toothed gophers. At that time, Sebastian and Yohan will hold the candles and distract the gophers. Then, we'll pick the fire spirit fruits." "How long will it last?" Caspian looked at Sebastian and Yohan in the distance, and they had already lit up the candles. "Normally, it can burn up to twenty minutes, but we'll usually retreat after fifteen minutes," Nana answered. "Okay." Caspian nodded, and he looked at Sebastian and the vines. After some time, Caspian heard a faint rustling sound from the vines, and the vines also started to sway. Moreover, the scop

TWENTY-FOUR Bayou Cypress Pavilion for the Criminally Insane New Orleans “MAMA?” CROAKED JEANNINE. The sound of her voice echoed dully in the ruins of the asylum. The corpse-thing that had been Cassandra LaRue began a side-shuffling, slow limp toward them. Beetles and roaches streamed from underneath rotted clothing. “That’s far enough,” said Curtis, when the creature had closed the distance between them to five feet. He produced a pistol he’d taken from the body of one of the Major’s guards.

I glanced at Glen, he too was glued to the scene playing out in front of us. “THAT'S ENOUGH!” Cindy yelled, causing me to look back. Florence had her hands on her hips, her face contorted to that of frustration. Cindy stared daggers at her, both were silent seeming to be playing each other. A cold dreadful wind began whooshing past us. Glen felt it too, I felt his panic as he looked behind us. I couldn’t see anything but when I tapped into his mind I could see a black shadow with red eyes. I shivered in fear, turning back around as screaming rang out from the Coven members. I watched horrified as I saw each member’s neck slash open, seemingly from the wind until only Florence, Cindy, Glen, a