Creepy Internet Stories Novelas e Histórias

Great. That opens a floodgate of articles about hormones, pheromones, and 'soul-deep connections.' Nothing remotely scientific. It's all romance novel tropes and spiritual mumbo jumbo. I groan quietly pressing my palms over my eyes. What do I think I'm going to find? A diagnosis for 'help, I dry-humped my boss and now my brain's short-circuiting?' I can't stop. The next search is even more absurd. I am being influenced by paranormal fanfic websites: 'Supernatural myths about wolves.'

His eyes were fixed on a small, subtle black lens nestled between two textbooks, a tiny red LED light blinking steadily beside it. “Sam?” Clarissa’s voice was small. “What is that?” He didn’t answer. He just stared, his earlier triumph and passion replaced by a cold, sick dread. The phone screen was a horror show, a gallery of her own shame. Clarissa’s own face, flushed and tear-streaked, filled one half of the livestream. The other half was a chaotic, moving collage of cock—thick, veiny, glistening with her spit and her sweat—pumping into her from every angle. The chat scrolled beside it, a relentless torrent of vulgar commentary.

"The problem, Sophie, is that you have the chance of changing what will happen in the future if you tell us what you know. Like I said, I can tell a dozen stories. You need to give me a reason why I should run your story over any other, or why I should even run it at all. There are millions of humans every day who pretend to be vampires, demons, and other supernatural beings. They dress up, wear fangs, and some even drink blood. All over the internet, people claim they’ve seen vampires, know demons, or are werewolves. Why is that?"

“This is a website where they post their stories.” I began to read through posts by people claiming to have encountered vampires. Most of them seemed really ridiculous, and some of them were very vague. Things like seeing figures in the shadows or watching someone jump off of tall buildings and then walk away. One person claimed he’d melted his neighbor’s face by dousing him with garlic salt. We read on for a few minutes before Emma declared, “This is dumb.” “Okay, I know a lot of the stories seem far-fetched,” Lucy nodded, “but some of them have details that seem similar to what Cassidy has experienced.”

He sighed, clicking his mouse to refresh a private, encrypted browser. It was a shifter-fringe website called The Wild Fringe—a hidden corner of the internet where human hikers, rogue wolves, and conspiracy theorists posted anonymous videos of strange occurrences in the deep wilderness. Most of it was garbage. Fake footage of bears, blurry photos of large wolves, and hoaxes designed to scare tourists. But tonight, a new post sat at the very top of the forum. It had been uploaded less than an hour ago, titled: “Impossible anomaly in the Northern Whispering Crags. Watch the kids.”

She wants me gone, and that only makes me want to get closer to her. I try to sleep, but the bed feels too big and the house feels too quiet. I scroll through my phone until the light burns my eyes. I even went outside to smoke half a cigarette before I remembered I quit last year. Nothing helps. Her bedroom door is only three steps away from mine. I could be there in seconds.

For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes. The w******l policy does not allow me to remove or delete those books, so they will remain there but as a "paused" book. You can find only the introduction of those books on w******l and no else more. But there you can find some covers I made for those stories and that I can not upload here. The stories of a single chapter will continue to be published, of course. Each volume of Strange short stories will have 3 medium-sized stories and about 10 short stories.

But curiosity is a wicked thing. My thumb betrays me the moment our call ends, and the browser opens like a door I should never step through. At first, it’s harmless, soft baby videos, silly memes, random cooking clips. Then the internet shows its claws. A thumbnail catches my eye. A commentator’s face lit with excitement, the kind people have when gossip tastes better than food. I tap it. And the world tilts. “Rumor has it the king’s mystery woman will be turned into a concubine. Honestly, what else could she be?”

When she saw the person to be interviewed today, she frowned. Is it him?! Lucas Hayes, a well-known internet writer. Interviewing internet writers was a common thing, but when she saw the photo of Lucas Hayes himself, she thought of what she had seen and noticed when she was bored, browsing forums to find inspiration. What was written in that post was about the internet writer Lucas Hayes molesting underage female writers. At that time, she was just idle and bored, so she had flipped through it casually, and her impression of this Lucas Hayes was extremely bad.

The man was rarely home, leaving his gorgeous wife alone in this big house. The diagnostic finished. Elias clicked through the folders to clear some junk files and free up space. That’s when he saw the folder named “Private – Do Not Open.” His cursor hovered. He knew he shouldn’t. But curiosity won. He double-clicked. Dozens of video files and image folders spilled across the screen. Hentai thumbnails loaded instantly. Busty older women getting absolutely destroyed by younger hotter guys with massive cocks. Breeding captions. “Step-Mom Gets Knocked Up.” Rough throat-fucking. Anal creampies. One paused video showed a woman who looked eerily similar to Rebecca on her knees, face covered in cum