Creepy Pasta Novels & Stories

Only two places still had lights on at the corner. A barbecue joint. A pasta place. I didn't hesitate. "Pasta." Theron raised a brow. "So decisive?" "Yes." My wolf, deep in the recesses of my mind, lazily flicked its tail. Compared to greasy grilled meat, a bowl of steaming pasta sounded far more appealing—especially after everything that had just happened. A few minutes later, we were seated in the pasta shop. The air was thick with the smell of beef sauce. I lowered my head and texted Amelia: [We're in Grey Creek. Want to join us?]

He tries his best to look apologetic, “Cheesy pasta, if that’s possible.” Carlos smiles and nods, disappearing into the kitchen. A few moments later he returns with what looks like a loaded macaroni cheese, with chicken, bacon, sweetcorn, spring onions and breadcrumbs on top. It looks delicious. “That looks amazing. Thank you.” He bows his head and hands it over.

"You're impossible." "I am just being plain honest with you," "Well, I'll teach you how to. It's quite easy." I slipped off of the stool and went to stand beside him, watching as he took out a chopping board and a knife. He placed it right beside me and went to the fridge to get vegetables. "What are we cooking tonight, cordon bleu of the highest order?" "You flatter me, Scarlett," Finn replied and came back with carrots, broccoli, spring onions, bell peppers, and peas in a transparent bowl. "We're making pasta. It's easy so don't worry."

It was a Saturday night, we managed to ditch Tanya during our weekend out and it was around eight in the evening when we decided to visit Pastini Pastaria, a Local Italian bistro chain which specialized in classic & contemporary pasta, with gluten-free options. We all loved pasta and their Pasta were the best. We made a habit of eating her at least once in two weeks, but with all that happened in past couple of weeks and me mostly sulking in the corner of my dorm room, we did not visit this place for three months. Occupying our favorite seat, I was browsing through the menu when the addicting floral scent wafted through my nose. I whipped around and came face to face with my mate, who stood

“I made you birthday pasta… but they’ve been sitting too long. They’re probably all clumped together by now.” “No big deal.” Before she could say more, Louis had already lifted the lid. Sure enough, the pasta had soaked up all the broth, swollen and nearly spilling over. The once-bright greens had wilted and turned a dull yellow. Adora winced and reached out quickly. “Don’t eat it. It’s all soggy.” “It looks fine. You even arranged it nicely,” Louis said, sensing how embarrassed she was. Without hesitation, he picked up the fork and took a bite.

But then, his smile vanished and the light in his eyes turned to fire. “But that would be over my dead body,” he growled under his breath. “Because if I can’t have you… then no one in the world will. Not under my watch.” ******* Rosealba sat on the chair with squinted shoulders. Her eyes lingered on the food that laid out on the tray. Staring back at her. She sucked in some breath, inhaling the aroma of the well-cooked Tonnarelli Cacio e P**e. A handmade pasta with Pecorino Romano and black pepper. Creamy and simply magical.

By the time dinner ended, the female attendant had already helped me move my things to the room downstairs, and I thanked her politely. Deep into the night, a scream erupted, jolting me awake. Without thinking twice, I walked out of my room, seeing a half naked Kylie sitting on the ground in the compound. Not just me, but everyone else had come out of their rooms. Seeing us, Kylie's face flushed, and she immediately got up, her gaze moving to rest on the cold man who had not moved an inch from where he stood. But looking closely, another person had pushed Kylie, making her scream…it was none other than Kai, Rael's personal assistant.

I don’t want to make this conversation any more awkward. So, I decide to divert the conversation altogether. I grab a chair and sit at the table. “It smells like a whole Italian restaurant exploded in here. What were you cooking?” Cooper grins, his eyes lighting up. “Just a little something I learned from my Italian ex-girlfriend. Pasta alla vodka with shrimp.” I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “And how did that turn out for you?” He chuckles. “Not too shabby, if I may say so myself. Want to try?”

I rushed to slide the pot over, splashing hot water across my knuckles. By the time I drained the pasta and tossed it with the egg and cheese, the pan was still too hot. The eggs immediately curdled, turning into yellow clumps. I stared at the plates of scrambled-egg pasta in complete defeat. At exactly seven o'clock, the kitchen door swung open. Bella walked in, wearing a comfortable gray sweater and jeans, her hair pulled back in a simple clip. She stopped at the kitchen entrance, her eyes taking in the smoky air, the messy counters, and the two plates of clumped pasta on the table.

- Hmm… Caleb was standing behind the stove, wearing a topographical map rolled up like a chef's hat and an apron with a picture of a Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton and the word YOLO on the front. He was tossing crepes into the air in a large frying pan. Pasta covered every surface in the kitchen, and pieces of burnt crepes stuck to the ceiling like stalactites. Around the counter were Frances, Ruth and Max, all laughing as Caleb tossed a crepe over his shoulder without looking. It landed on one of the plates on the counter, and Frances leaned in to claim it as her own. - What is happening? I demanded, my eyes meeting Caleb's. Allora followed me upstairs and looked under my arm.