Creepypasta Novels & Stories

Flipping to the first page she skimmed the text. 'Vampiric entities exist in cultures across the world. Hysteria follows the legends of these phantoms, causing mass burnings and hangings of suspected vampires. Every culture has its own lore regarding vampires. These malevolent spirits would contaminate the living by biting them and drinking their life force to sustain their own.' This gave Layla pause as she remembered Atreus' elongated canines. She chewed her lip softly as she read on.

That was all she could remember after waking up at the cemetery. "Help" she screamed, not scared but she needed to leave here as soon as possible. The fact that she woke up at a cemetery worried her. She thought of her phone and quickly ran to where she woke up but couldn't find it. While searching for her phone, she noticed that what she thought to be a grave when she woke up was an endless pit, she couldn't see the end but just darkness through. She shouted but it just came back echoing. "Well that's not creepy"

Jess just stood there as if her legs didn't work as the stranger reached out and smelt her hair. "Hey! What the hell are you doing you CREEP!" Jackie yelled as she ran over. "Let's go Jess." Jackie pulled her by the arm and they rushed for the door. Jess could hear the guy talking to himself as he watched them leave, "Such a pretty girl, I'm gonna getcha pretty girl." Jess noticed that he was missing a few teeth when he smiled at her through the storefront window. "What a creep, what the hell was wrong with that guy? He was probably some kind of pedophile. Why did you even let him close enough to touch you?" Jackie went on rambling as Jess sat in silence.

She threw back the covers and hurried to the bathroom to ease herself and sighed in relief when she was done. Flushing after herself, she returned to the dark room and climbed into her bed. A light weight on her chest had her switching on the light. The sight she saw sent cold waves through her spine. On her chest facing her was a three year old baby boy. The first thing that stood out to her was his pitch black sclera, red iris and black pupils. Next was the blood that stained his whole face and naked body, and the creepy smile he gave her. "Mama!" Modupe screamed and jumped in terror.

Garrix furrowed his brows with confusion, a behavior like that had to be concerning. "Shawn..." Scarlett bellowed. "Mustn't hurt...Shawn." _______________________________________________ "Why are we here, Mom?" The two Vamps wandered into the old-timey world of Pastonville, found only within Scarlett's shared subconscious with her mother. "I just thought you wanted to see where I...originally grew up." "Yeah but, Uncle Josh said this place is a cesspool of paranormal paranoia. Won't we be seen?" "The people can't see or hear us. Besides, this wasn't what I want you to show you. I wanted to tell you a story; of the first Crimson Bride."

The ancient magic in the ritual was very dark, and she wasn’t sure if there were any lasting effects. They made every step carefully, watching for any secret traps around that were intended to injure them fatally. Eventually, they entered another room that was separated by a big door. Though the temple only consisted of sixteen doors, they had not expected that one room had led into a larger hall containing the maze. It appeared that there was only one way to tread through the maze, but yet every step they made could be their last. There were snares embedded deep in the ice that had taken the lives of some passing unlucky travellers; which they told from the skeletons lying on the ground.

The exquisite terror of giving your blood, your body, and perhaps even your soul to something far older and more powerful than you. That obsession is precisely what led me to the website. It was past three in the morning. I had just finished a particularly filthy novel where the ancient vampire lord claimed his mortal lover on an altar of black marble while draining her during the height of her orgasm. My body was still buzzing, thighs slick, heart racing, when I stumbled into the darkest corners of the internet — forums so obscure that even seasoned degenerates whispered about them. And there it was. Blood Party – Invitation Only.

Might want to call the cops. "Honey, who are you texting?" Chester snarled, his face twisted into something dark and chilling by the phone's glow. This whole new life spiel was nothing but a con. I was trapped in a real-life Truman Show. I lashed out with a fierce kick at Chester. He screamed in agony, doubling over, his face a mask of pain. "Chester!"

That was when I saw it. Behind Elias, in the corner of his dimly lit room, something moved. It wasn't a shadow; it was too textured, too substantial. It was a pale, elongated shape, draped in what looked like damp, gray linen. It didn't walk; it flowed, a rhythmic pulse of movement that defied the physics of a human body. It raised an arm—if you could call that spindly, multi-jointed appendage an arm—and reached toward the back of Elias’s head. My stomach dropped. Every instinct I possessed, honed by years of watching horror movies and reading urban legends, screamed at me. That wasn't a trick of the light. That wasn't a glitch. It was looking at me.

This was the punishment. At some point, green smoke crept in without warning. The temp plummeted. I shivered, and he slipped off his cloak, wrapping it around me. "Don't be afraid," he murmured. Afraid? Not even close. My perception glitch had me kind of... hyped. "They're back!" Mia yelled. "Grandpa and Grandma are back!" The door creaked open. Two shriveled elders shuffled in. Chat Feed went wild: [It's them. The revenants. Nobody survives past this.]