Novel & Cerita Creepypasta Stories

I admitted. His breath was deeper now. And I found myself speaking up. I told him about the dream where my step uncle pinned me against the wall of my childhood home, my lips parted, wrists tied. I told him how he whispered filthy things in my ear while his fingers slid between my thighs. I told him how I begged. How I cried out. How I woke trembling and wet. With every word, my body remembered. The heat. The ache. He didn't speak. But I felt him listening. When I stopped, I was breathless.

asked one of them. “I have some back in the room. It’s for the sleepover.” replied the other. “I’m so excited!” “Me too! I can’t wait for the Bloody Mary! I will be the one to try it out first!” “Oh my gee! Are we going to read some creepypasta stories for the scary parts?” “Yes! And I heard Nympha will also tell us some true supernatural stories when she was still in the Philippines!”

“Like any of you are believable.” She smashed the pillow against Lor who was sitting on Grace’s bed. Lor shrieked: "Pillow fight!" and the craziness started. **** They binge-watched Korean dramas through the TV set that Grace had pre-arranged to be set up in her room for the night. They had a vote by hands on whether it would be K-drama or "It" starring Pennywise. After lights out though, they still started telling ghost stories among themselves, especially about the school ghost of the teenage boy who threw himself down the piss-shallow creek and bled to death. The stories made most of the girls too scared to go alone in the bathroom that was just a few meters away from the bed, so some of

This was because all of the victims were bleeding and there were several bite marks on the victim's bodies. But I think it's just a coincidence. If it exists, I don't know what to do. There's no way something like vampires exists. "You think the same as me, don't you Frey?" I said to Frey. I told Frey about it when I visited her that night. About vampires and bullshit hotly talked about by the citizens. Frey just smiled and nodded slowly in response to me. To be precise, Frey looked a little reserved today. She didn't seem to be listening to the conversation.

I steeled myself and opened the door. The hallway was awash in red. Smears and spatters of bright and dark blood covered the walls, the floor, and my door. My head reeled. What the hell happened? Why was there so much blood outside my door? Hadn't the guy in 603 seen it through his peephole? I couldn't help looking toward apartment 603. To my surprise, the door stood half-open, and it was dead quiet inside. I picked my way past the bloodstains and made my way to apartment 603.

He looked straight into my eyes. I took a deep breath. “My ex fucked my cousin in our bed. Then he emptied our joint account. Left me with nothing. Rent is due in three days. I need this money. I do not have any other options.” Elias leaned forward. “Many girls come here with sad stories. Most break when the ropes go on. When a client slaps their face and calls them a worthless hole. You think you can handle that?” Heat flooded my cheeks. My pussy clenched. “I need to handle it. I want to feel something other than angry and empty.”

She didn’t want to spill her crazy on to someone else. With no one to really talk to and all the time to kill she pulled out her laptop. She started searching the web for everything from hauntings to attachment’s. It was hard to distinguish what was real and what was fabricated. Jess eventually stumbled across something called a demonologist. His name was Doug Marshall and he lived about a day’s drive from her in Colorado. She clicked the contact me button on his website and decided that now was the time to tell her crazy story. This guy was her last and final hope. She closed her laptop as she was told to upon initial decent. With just her carry on she made her way to the parking lot

: --- The rain tapped lightly against the windows of the old library as Anna flipped through the yellowed pages of an urban legends book. The room was dimly lit, the overhead light flickering occasionally, casting eerie shadows across the table. Her best friend, Mia, leaned over her shoulder, eyes wide with curiosity. “Why are you always digging into creepy stuff?” Mia asked, half-laughing, half-nervous. Anna shrugged, brushing her curly black hair out of her face. “I like stories that make your skin crawl. Look at this one,” she said, pointing to the faded text on the page.

by the time the sun shimmers at the horizon behind me and the crescent moon dips below the horizon before me, I have thought of every word I know of to describe really, really, really boring walking. There is absolutely nothing here. I think of the stories we told each other when we were pups. About wraiths that lived beneath the sand of the Barren that would pull you down into their nests. They would paralyze you and then their grubs would feed off you, slowly eating you alive. That was a favorite. There are the roaming packs of wilder-scorpions, creatures that are half beast, half scorpion. Where the beast's tail should be is a scorpion's sting that will cause your skin to turn black and t

“Sa piling kasi ng mahal nila, doon nila nahahanap ang kanilang sarili.” “Ah…” “Blue…” “Hmm…” “May tanong pa ako sa’yo.” “Inatake na naman ang curiosity mo. Ako naman ang magtatanong sa’yo. Kung isasapeikula ang buhay natin, ano kaya ang magiging genre?” “Hmm… Romance?” “Mali.” “Eh ano?” “Horror. Ikaw ba naman may kasamang sleepwalker na tumatawa na parang mangkukulam gabi-gabi.”