Long Horse Creepypasta Novels & Stories

It seemed like my heart was about to jump out of my chest from excitement. Then, it would leap along the road like a March hare. “We must give a present to his majesty, mustn’t we?” a dark grin appeared on the necromancer’s beautiful lips. “And this present will be an amazing horse ‘of a rare color, riding on which, a prince would not feel ashamed’,” Reive copied Jeff Rinelon’s words and intonations. “Errr... Reive, the horse will be dead,” I said with hesitation, looking at the dead body in the cart.

The Brook Horse has lived a long life and the paintings extend from the time of cavemen to the present time. Laurin trails his finger over the paintings and the Brook Horse memories flashes past from the time the depicted events occurred. Laurin sees how the black stallion has over time lured its victims into the depths of the waters. Pictures of a young girl rolls like an old movie in front of Laurin’s mind’s eye. The beautiful blond girl’s joyful face as she rides the black horse over a blossoming meadow, quickly turns into horror as Laurin feels the girls gaping fear when the stallion drags her to her death in the dark waters. He shudders when the fear and anxiety of other victims begin

Its eyes suddenly glowed bright purple and my vision suddenly got blurry, alarming me. I stumbled back and my legs gave up on me. Panic rippled through my body as I was losing control over it. My eyelids were getting heavier and heavier as I watched the horse staring at me with its deep purple eyes. I collapsed next to Lara, and for a second, I swear I saw a woman dressed in white with a hood over her head step out from the tree. She was so familiar… but before I could think further, my mind switched off, and I lost the battle to the darkness.

No, not here. I picked it up and a piece of paper fell out. Seeing this bloody handwriting turned my stomach in knots. It has written in careful script: What challenge is there in breaking a horse without spirit? The challenge is to replace the spirit with fear, surviving all the costs. Are you ready to feel alive, Zia Stephanie? I was about to close my eyes when my ears heard rushing of footsteps and a ticking of the clock. A number of unidentified creatures waved in. Am I entering a rabbit hole?

I swallowed the lump in my throat as he made his way over to his desk. "W-Why was s-she out there?" I asked. Master leaned back against the desk so he was almost sitting on it, placing the leash down in the process. "It's a stupid thing that some vampires do when their pet has misbehaved or they decide that they don't want them anymore." My eyes widened

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅• Katherine's laughter danced in the air, a delightful sound carried by the gentle breeze as Zayn shared the tale of his first horseback riding adventure. It was a story filled with youthful bravado and a runaway horse, depicting young Zayn being dragged upside down, his leg stuck in the stirrup, until a timely rescue saved him from what could've been an incredibly embarrassing (or even tragic) ending.

But there were no humans or vampires in the group that was found. The large black horse was meandering around nibbling on fresh grass when he came up to the bell tower. He walked over and sniffed the two bodies holding each other. The horse snorted, shook its head and walked over to the bell’s pull rope. It pulled the rope and caused the bell to ring. Everyone’s head turned toward the sound and they made their way in that direction. When they reached the tower they saw the horse holding the rope in its mouth. It dropped the rope and walked over to the dead couple holding each other. Cassia walked over and saw who they were.

I hear squeaks and squelches and something akin to farts. Dierdre giggles after some time and turns to me, “It seems that the Bodkins think you are a king of some sort. Perhaps this journey will be far more entertaining. They might even put on a show if we remain in their land for long. They will be able to illuminate themselves and while they perform the Night Mares will keep their distance.” “Nightmares?” I ask. “Night Mares. They are black horses with sharp teeth and the ability to trap you in nightmares, or trap your soul and whisk it away. I have seen them and they can not trap me, but the stuff I see haunts my sleep for weeks after,” Deirdre replies.

I press my forehead against the horse's warm body, hesitating to mount. Being a former White, there are so many things I can do—things that were added to all the White children’s curriculum—and horse riding is one of them. But since it’s Saturn’s hobby, and I’ve watched the girl ride so many times, I can’t help being reminded about her. “We’re back here again, hoppy,” I mumble while gently hitting my head against the horse. Hoppy is Saturn’s horse, and this one looks close to Hoppy. The loud hoot of an owl scares me; causes me to whip my head toward the woods, nervous eyes scanning the trees.

We do not even need to prove his involvement with Astralis any longer. A howl splits the night. I sniff—wild fur, matted with dust. Rogues. Hana urges her horse into a trot, then a canter. As promised, mine immediately follows her lead. The wilderness whips past me at a dizzying rate. A shape lunges from the trees, and a horse screams. It’s a far higher-pitched, more human sound than I ever would have anticipated. It shivers up my spine so sharply that I don’t even notice the world turning on its side, the leather slipping from between my legs, until I hit the ground hard enough to jar my skull and knock the breath from my lungs.