Creepypasta Family

Di sebuah gang sempit antara dunia nyata dan dunia gaib, berdiri WarKoDuBa — Warung Kopi Dunia Bawah. Warung ini bukan sembarang tempat: pelanggan setianya adalah manusia kesepian, arwah penasaran, hingga makhluk tak bernama dari dimensi lain. Dikelola oleh Dimas, mantan barista yang lebih percaya pada perasaan daripada promosi, bersama Toyo si asisten polos, Randi si karyawan konten absurd, dan Karina si hantu galau. Setiap cangkir kopi di WarKoDuBa tak sekadar minuman, tapi portal menuju kisah yang belum tuntas. Namun ketika WarKoDuBa mulai dilirik dunia bisnis dan menjadi pusat perhatian antar-dimensi, mereka harus memilih: menjadi besar tapi kehilangan jati diri, atau tetap menjadi warung absurd yang menyeduh kenyataan dengan jujur?

Penulis: [zainuri] Judul: CEO Berlutut pada Gadis Sederhana Alya, gadis polos dari keluarga sederhana, tak sengaja memasuki dunia CEO muda bernama Rey yang dingin dan penuh gengsi. Tanpa disadari, kehadirannya mengubah ritme hidup Rey. Dari pria kaku menjadi seseorang yang mulai mengenal arti rindu dan cemburu. Saat cobaan datang dan kedekatan mereka diuji, Rey dihadapkan pada pilihan: menjaga jarak, atau mengungkap perasaannya yang dalam pada gadis yang membuatnya jatuh hati diam-diam.

The Devil didn't come from hell, he lived right on Earth. There's nothing much more dangerous than a clique of wealthy men, billionaire to be precise, going wrong and turning against each other. When family and friends becomes the major bait and attack, which led to sleeping with one eye open, because........ You don't know who's next!.

On my way back from a business trip, I scrolled past a video. A newborn was abandoned by the roadside, crying so hard. As a first time dad, I couldn’t help looking at the baby a little longer. I froze because that baby looked exactly like my son. I had booked the best confinement center in the city for my wife. I had checked them into a VIP suite. I had employed a nanny and a nursing team to look after my wife and my son full-time. I broke out in a cold sweat. My wife didn’t check her phone, so I immediately called the center's manager, Ms. Thompson. She laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, Mr. Smith. Your wife and baby are perfectly fine. They just fell asleep.” The next second, she sent me a photo of my sleeping baby. I stared at the tiny, unfamiliar face. In that instant, the blood in my body turned to ice. I was only gone for four days. So how was my son a different person?

I'm attacked after the murderer who took my sister's life is released from prison. He pins me to the forest floor, allowing me to scream and shout until I run out of strength. As the fireworks explode above me, blood pools around me. Two months later, my husband becomes his next victim. I burst into manic laughter when I see the torment he has to suffer.

The Hathaway family has always been a family filled with joy and happiness until the unfortunate incident. Now it is up to Alexa to fix things before its too late. Now our brave young hero would have summon every last not of courage left in her to face and overcome the great evil lurking on their very midst. Will she be able to?, or will she fail and end up losing her life, or worse her family?

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

During my night shift, I refused to help my adopted sister administer fluids to her patient. After the wrong drug is given, I watch a seven-year-old boy die after he suffers an allergic reaction right before my eyes. In my previous life, the boy's family stormed the nurses' station after I'd just finished administering his IV medication. The next thing I knew, I was violently beaten up. "You poisoned my grandchild by giving him the wrong medicine!" But the fluid I introduced into his bloodstream was a simple glucose solution. It couldn't have led to such a disastrous outcome. When I was on the brink of passing out, someone called the police. I thought help had finally arrived, but I was sorely mistaken. The police officer—my brother—pinned me to the ground. "We found your prints on the drug vial. You're a murderer." Then, my childhood friend, a forensic pathologist, held up an autopsy report and accused me of the same crime. "The patient's time of death is around 5:00 am. That's the same time you administered drugs into his system." Unable to prove my innocence, I was ultimately beaten to death by the boy's enraged family members. My brother and my childhood friend had always loved me. Even on the brink of death, I couldn't understand why they would do this to me. Now, I open my eyes and find myself back on the night it all began.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.

My husband, Ethan Parker, brought our daughter on a trip to the countryside with his first love, Mandy Sanchez. Halfway through, he abandoned our little girl and left with Mandy. When our daughter was surrounded by wolves, I could not reach him. By the time I arrived, the car was empty—the only thing left behind was a bloodstained piece of pumpkin pie. As I was dealing with my grief, Ethan finally answered his phone. "We're celebrating Thanksgiving. Why are you ruining the mood?" I internally scoffed at that man's audacity. Well, happy holidays indeed! Let me deliver a bloody pumpkin pie for you to really get into the spirit.