Creepy Minecraft Stories Novels & Stories

"They are a sort of poisonous worm that was made by humans. They breed fast, and they like living in a cold environment. Once they encounter a living thing, they will immediately bite through their skin and permeate into their blood vessels. Gradually, they will occupy the human's internal organs until they are completely hollowed out. Like what you saw, they are long and thin. If there is only one of them, it can't be seen clearly if we don't look carefully." Tristan told her everything he knew. Mango was shocked after she heard this. They can really do that? That's right! Tristan was rarely afraid of anything. "He had only heard about Tomb Crawlers and had never seen them before, so he did

"12 sevens are 84, 12 eights are 96, 12 nines are 108, 12 tens are—" ~MY BOY, I REALLY MISS YOU~ "Fuck!! I swear to god..." Creed bit his own lips to keep himself conscious. "I will burn down this forest one day if you don't stop that shit..." Creed was struggling for some unknown reason. He wanted to look back, but he knew he must never do that. Creed had already read about the Necrosis Forest in Glitch Forum, so he knew what was going on with him. Necrosis Forest was one of the most notorious places in the Glitch. The atmosphere inside the Forest was very creepy.

" I tried to keep on walking hoping that I saw someone but as I'm walking farther I have noticed that there is someone following me. "who was there! show yourself don't act like a coward monster" I shout and then I look everywhere trying to find who is That's someone who follows me but still nothing I couldn't see anything other than trees and plants. A walk again but there was someone held my feet and I fall to the ground after that my hand was been held by someone or should I say vines of the trees, They were moving like a true alive monster in the form of trees. I wiggle and struggle but the creeper was holding me so tight.

“The World of the Unknown. A book to die for.” My mother used to tell me stories of Vampires, Werewolves, Demons, the Orramoths, and the worst of them all, the Darklings. Most of the creatures she told me they blew out of proportion. She said writers did this to make a dollar or two, and some did it to scare the shit out of their kids and make them listen. My aunt would laugh because she said that I was a different breed than most. The minute I heard about them, I buried my head deeper into books with excitement. Little did she know I also discovered Daddy’s old box in the attic, and ‘The World of the Unknown’ was in it.

Lucas had been gone for hours, leaving me to the not so careful ministrations of Magda. The wart nosed witch who I had clobbered over the head with a candlestick. She was hunched forwards with a permanent hunchback and cloudy milky white eyes signalling that her eyesight was diminished with cataracts. She almost looked like she had taken a step out of a Greek mythology book and was actually one of the fabled grey sisters, who determined all living creatures fate. Perhaps she was, all myths derived from elements of truth. Any second now she was going to pull out a pair of rusty old scissors and cut my life cord into two. I held back a giggle at the thought.

“We’ve had two disappearances this month. No blood. No signs. Just… gone. They were both preparing memory journals for your arrival.” Tulen frowned. “And the villagers?” “Afraid,” the man said. “Not of memory. Of what follows it.” That night, Tulen’s journal vanished. His notes on Riverhall, gone. Then a message appeared—scrawled on the inn wall in black chalk: > Not all stories should be told. Some carry curses. Next, the girl. Miri stared at the writing. Rowan stood beside her. “This isn’t fear of pain,” Rowan said. “It’s a war over who controls the story.”

Hadwin said naming the story that changed my life forever due to the King, but Darren only shakes his head in response. “No, it’s a book called The Gruesome Tales, it’s a bunch of gruesome stories comprised into one book. It’s there a story of these flesh eaters live. It’s said there is only one person that can save us all from these creatures, this person is a werewolf like us but was born with amazing powers. It’s said she will go to battle to defeat these creatures and save everyone.” He smiled retelling the story he had read, but for me, this only resembled a nightmare, it was explaining my life.

I gulped hard as I peddled my way to the creek, greeting some of the townsfolk on the way when I got stopped by Mrs Maisel, another fanatic of the supernatural. “I heard you’ve been hanging around Monsoon Creek Rory,” She said whilst trying to crack a nut with her fingers, the woman was a nutcase, “You better be careful. Werewolves and Vampires are looking to prey on a beautiful soft lass as yourself.” I rolled my eyes in disbelief, “Wolves, Vampires and whatnot don’t exist Mrs Maisel. I’m pretty sure it’s just a cooked up story by some story tellers from your—

“There’ve been whispers. Nothing solid. Just… rumors. There was one I’d heard about a grave.” My brow arched. “A grave?” “Yes. An empty one. They said two corpses lay on either side, drained dry. Whoever stumbled on it swore it was linked to Dracula himself.” I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Dracula? Really? That’s the story floating around? Most of those tales are campfire trash meant to spook kids.” Her frown deepened, though a flicker of curiosity lingered in her gaze. “Maybe. I’ve never seen a vampire myself. Tell me the truth are they trying to spark another war?”

Creatures we thought long dead, their names whispered in ghost stories, not carved in fresh graves. We burst into the clearing, and my heart stopped. The air felt poisoned, heavy with a metallic tang and something darker, like rot laced with malice. Moonlight spilled over the scene, cold and unforgiving, glinting off blood-soaked grass. Two bodies lay covered in rough cloaks, their shapes too still, too broken—a father and his son, the messenger had gasped before collapsing. The pack stood in a loose circle, faces pale, eyes hollow, their growls muted by shock. Ragnar knelt beside the cloaks, his massive hands trembling, his scarred face twisted with grief.