Creepypasta Russian Sleep Experiment

Adrian Cain has no past. At least, not one he remembers. He woke up at eighteen with a name, a guardian, and a carefully constructed identity that led him to build one of the most powerful tech empires in the world. Now, as the CEO of CainTech, Adrian is feared, admired, and emotionally impenetrable, his past locked behind clinical amnesia, sealed files, and a steel wall he doesn't dare breach. Until the suicides start. After two employees from his most classified division die under suspicious circumstances, trauma counselor Sera Vaughn is brought in to assess the psychological impact on staff. But Sera has her own reasons for stepping into CainTech, her older brother vanished fifteen years ago, and the only lead she has left is a face in an old photograph: Adrian’s. But his name back then wasn’t Adrian. It was Daniel Ward. As Sera begins digging into Adrian’s history and as Adrian’s carefully managed psyche begins to crack, long-buried memories start surfacing: a mysterious basement, whispered codewords, and a girl calling his real name. What neither of them knows is that they were both part of a covert experiment known as Project Phoenix, designed to erase identities and rebuild human obedience from the ground up. Together, they uncover a trail of lies, altered files, and fractured lives along with a chilling truth: Adrian may have been programmed to forget what he did… and who he destroyed. Now hunted by the people who created him, stalked by a version of himself he doesn’t remember becoming, and drawn to a woman whose trust he doesn’t deserve, Adrian must face the darkest corners of his past before they both disappear into it. Because some memories don’t stay buried. Some were never meant to.

I died listening to my husband fuck his mistress in our bed. Six months pregnant, I bled out on the bathroom floor while they laughed in the next room, while Scylla moaned his name loud enough for me to hear through the walls. The last thing I heard was my husband telling her she felt better than I ever did, and the last thing I felt was my baby going still inside me. Then I woke up. Not in heaven, not anywhere I recognized. In a penthouse overlooking the city where I died, with a man standing over me who said he brought me back as an experiment. Zephyr Arcanis, billionaire, recluse, apparently the only person alive who knows how to resurrect the dead. He gave me three years before my borrowed time runs out, three years to do whatever I want with this second life. I chose revenge. I should focus on destroying Dexter and Scylla, on making them pay for what they did to me and my baby. But Zephyr watches me like I'm a puzzle he can't solve, touches me like he's afraid I'll vanish, and when I get close to my ex-husband for the plan, Zephyr's jealousy turns vicious in ways that terrify and thrill me. He says he doesn't feel anything, says I'm just an experiment to test his power. Then why does he bleed when I hurt? Why does his skin turn pale every time he saves me? And when my three years are almost over, why does he whisper that he'll die in my place if it means I get to keep living?

My girlfriend, Clara Sutton, had severe mysophobia. Before every intimate moment we shared, she required me to disinfect myself thoroughly in advance. She even set strict rules about how often we could kiss or sleep together, and how long it could last. Without her permission, I was not allowed to touch her. I had always believed she treated everyone this way. I even secretly felt relieved, thinking that I must have been somewhat special to her. Then came that night at the bar. During a party, her childhood friend, Ethan Ford, drew a dare in a game of truth or dare. Then, in front of everyone, he leaned in and kissed Clara. Although it was supposedly a punishment for losing, they kissed deeply for a full five minutes. Our friends laughed and jostled one another as they turned to look at me. Only then did I realize that Clara’s obsession with cleanliness had never been a universal rule. It had existed simply because she did not like me. Disheartened, I asked for a breakup. But Clara soon regretted it. With reddened eyes, she begged me not to leave.

A housemaid who doesn’t care about love. A billionaire used to being in control. And one unexpected night… that leads to marriage?! Roxane Hermenez is a simple woman: work, home, sleep, repeat. Her dream? To save money, leave her job as a maid, and give her family a better life. No time for romance—especially since her boss is Dark Nathaniel Villamonte—rich, arrogant, and annoyingly meticulous. But one night, due to strange circumstances, a glass of wine, and a broken elevator… something happened. And when Dark Nathaniel found out that there might be a “possible consequence” from that night, he didn’t hide— He insisted on getting married! “I can’t just ignore my responsibility. A civil wedding will do!” Now, Roxane is panicking. What kind of woman gets proposed to by her own boss?! But wait… if it’s just about responsibility, why is Dark starting to become possessive, sweet, and jealous? Is love really starting to bloom? Or maybe… the billionaire just wants to play with her? Where will Roxane’s feelings for her handsome boss lead her if he keeps pursuing her despite all the opposition against what he’s doing?!

Outside the wrecked world of the Alphas, one could see the Neverseen, the light that spread about, form by the civilized world that far prime of the Alphas. The Neverseen have long been awake and far knowledgeable than the Alphas. They height above one can ever imagine. So tall that even the Alphas and its subject could comparable to nothing, not even dots. There, one could see the march of Neverseen, or what could be called as giant in the Alphas World. Amidst the march, there's this tiny planet that surround with smoke that distorted about in the outskirt of the way, and comparable only as the dots in the Neverseen's eyes. So nothing that even they were the threat if discover, they able to overcome the changes. Strangely, this dots of a planet connected, by the use of the white strand, to the tiny being that almost seem a dust that vibrated about. This tiny being as a whole that scattered around could fit at the hands of the giant, and can even form a city there and new system. Only if they were awake that they will realize everything. In this time and age, their eyes have never been once open since the beginning of time. They as if sleep for all eternity, or was curse to never awakened! But they have the blood of the Alphas, and even the curse that stop them to realize the Origin, they will to awake in no time!

was sixteen years old when he was first killed; when he stood on Matthew's chest, his best friend, blood spurted from all over their bodies so that it was an exhausting and even battle between them until Matthew at last gave way to victory. Jaden breathed out, feeling the fires of hell all around him. His palm shook over the sheath of his sword, recalling that nightmare that steals sleep from his eyes: the moment he was kneeling on Matthew's chest, raising his rusty dagger, reluctant to take his soul, his eyeballs shaking turbulently and his chest rising and falling at an exhausting pace, and Matthew grabbed his trembling palm and led him towards his chest containing the dagger. Empty not to retreat, not to coerce and relieve him from his hell, but to kill him and prove to everyone that he will no longer be the prey. On that day, everyone around him was waiting, waiting for him to retreat in order to pounce on them, the mighty king's monsters, who made a vow to himself to turn his life into hell from the moment he was born and did the most heinous things.

Everyone knows Francesco Greco, heir to the largest mafia family in Solerio, is a notorious playboy. Yet when he swears to God that he'll love me for the rest of his life, I choose to believe him. He lives up to his words during the first year of our marriage. The Greco heir, whose presence alone terrorizes others, clings to me like a loyal puppy at home. But by the second year, he starts returning home with one lover after another. Rumors of his scandalous affairs spread, and I become the laughingstock of Solerio. On our eighth anniversary, his 99th lover taunts me in front of everyone at dinner. "Don't sleep in the master bedroom tonight," she says. "Mr. Greco and I are going to have some fun there. Also, change the sheets. I can't stand how dirty your things are." Everyone expects me to break down under such humiliation. Instead, I smile and turn on my heel. Then, I dial Madre Greco's number. "Madre, it's been eight years," I say, my voice steady. "It's time for me to leave."

As Christmas drew near, my little sister claimed she’d seen Santa Claus in the house. “He had four legs, real long, like dead branches. He crawled on the floor like a dog. His mouth was full of teeth, and I saw him with my own eyes, climbing out of the chimney. His bones were making this clicking, clacking sound.” The Santa she described was nothing like the legends. My parents and I thought it was just her imagination. Until I posted about it online. A user named “NocturneNotes” insisted my sister wasn’t lying, and that the thing was dangerous. Panicked, I asked him what we should do. He gave me three rules: “On Christmas Eve, from 11:30 PM to 2:00 AM, the entire family must ‘sleep’ by the Christmas tree.” “You can’t actually fall asleep, or you’ll die in your sleep.” “No matter what you hear or feel, you absolutely cannot open your eyes or stop pretending to be asleep. Once it hits 2:00 AM, it will leave on its own.”

"You're not Isabella. But you will be. Starting tonight." Elara has nothing. No family. No money. She grew up in foster care. She cleans toilets for a living. Until the night she scrubs the penthouse bathroom of Alexander Blackwood, a billionaire CEO. He walks in drunk, sees her face, sees the star-shaped birthmark behind her ear, and calls her Isabella. Isabella is his wife. She disappeared six months ago. She was declared dead. And she looks exactly like Elara. Now Elara is forced to wear a dead woman's clothes, sleep in her bed, and pretend to be someone she never met. The mansion is full of secrets. The housekeeper watches her every move. The charming brother offers help that feels too calculated. And Alexander knows more about Isabella's disappearance than he admits. But Elara survived foster care by staying quiet and watching. Now she's watching them. And she's going to find out what happened to her sister—even if it means tearing the Blackwood family apart from the inside. She came to clean their toilets. She's staying to bury their secrets.

In the fifth month of my pregnancy, my husband brought back his first love, who was eight months pregnant and causing a stir about getting a divorce. I politely told him that pregnant women would influence each other, which wasn’t good for the child. Alex, however, smashed a water glass and said in disgust, "Sarah is depressed because of the divorce, and the only one she can rely on is me! Do you want her to die?" I felt nauseous and vomited, unable to sleep through the night, and my health worsened with each passing day. To make her happy, he filled the house with lilies. But he had forgotten that I was allergic to lilies and locked me in the room, saying, "Let’s see if you can get an allergic reaction if you can’t smell the lilies." I bled continuously, desperately calling him for help for both myself and the child, but he simply said that I was still early in the pregnancy and there wouldn’t be any problems. When the fetal movements stopped, I had completely given up. It was at that moment that he frantically pushed open the door.