Rake Creepypasta Novels & Stories

The old Blackwood Manor, its gothic spires piercing the night sky. Twenty-five-year-old Riley Harper had joined the investigation as a favor to her friend’s production company, documenting the notorious haunted estate for a new paranormal series. She was a skeptic at heart, but the paycheck was too good to pass up.

The space was filled with the rich, earthy scent of old books and polished wood, creating an inviting ambiance as I prepared to tackle the next steps of my journey. Sitting at the worn oak desk, I opened the application for recognition as a pack and for admission to Cripple Creek University to pursue my Alpha Education. The screen illuminated my face, displaying a series of questions that felt both daunting and exhilarating. When I reached the section asking for the pack name, I typed in "Blood Moon Eclipse" with a sense of pride swelling in my chest. But my amusement quickly turned to laughter when the screen flashed back “Not a Recognised Pack.”

Lena woke up to the sound of moaning. It wasn't the distant, muffled noise of the party downstairs, which had finally died down to a low thrum of bass and occasional laughter. This was close. It was a sharp, rhythmic sound coming from right through the drywall of the guest room. She lay perfectly still, her heart beginning to hammer against her ribs as she recognized the timber of the voice. It was a low, masculine groan that vibrated in the very air of the room.

Frost spread across the glass panes like living veins, and the overhead lights buzzed before going out completely, leaving only the eerie blue glow from the candles. A deep rumble vibrated through the floorboards, shaking the entire apartment. Chains clanked from somewhere far below, echoing up like they were rising from the depths of the earth. The air filled with a thick, intoxicating smell of sharp pine resin mixed with animal musk. Then, he materialized right out of the shadows, stepping through the wall as if it were mist. Krampus.

he bent down and said in her ear "I am your monster and you are my Dark Hidden Paradise " ///Guys...it's Sriste here....it's a story of some dangerous mystery with obsessjve love...so please support me with your love...I can tell u all that I will make you love with every character in story...Follow me in my Instagram : sriste__author.///

Nina smiled as he looked at the tombstone with Amber Hudson engraved on it. “I miss her.” “I miss her too.” Lane kissed Nina's forehead. ~ The night was long and distant. The moon was at its peak, giving off the brightest rays and flourishing the earth with its glow. “I'm Cataleya Drew. The witch who created the first vampires and werewolves. I've returned. Powerless, but I'm going to find a way to put an end to what I created. The O'Connors, the Salvadors, and the Graysons will suffer at my feet because I'm going to bring them to their very end. I always find a freaking way.” Cataleya's lips stretched into a smirk as she walked on the tarred road. It was midnight. The town was still and ser

The men were commenting and occasionally chuckling lewdly at the images. I was surprised and pulled on Aaron’s arm. "What’s going on here, Aaron?" He greeted the men, seemingly familiar with them, before explaining the setup to me. As I listened, my eyes widened in realization. No wonder Aaron had taken a liking to camping here—the real reason lay right before us. Each woman's video had a number in the corner, which corresponded to a tent outside. For a fee of three thousand bucks, you could book a tent, and the woman from the video would be waiting inside for you.

I gulped hard as I peddled my way to the creek, greeting some of the townsfolk on the way when I got stopped by Mrs Maisel, another fanatic of the supernatural. “I heard you’ve been hanging around Monsoon Creek Rory,” She said whilst trying to crack a nut with her fingers, the woman was a nutcase, “You better be careful. Werewolves and Vampires are looking to prey on a beautiful soft lass as yourself.” I rolled my eyes in disbelief, “Wolves, Vampires and whatnot don’t exist Mrs Maisel. I’m pretty sure it’s just a cooked up story by some story tellers from your—

With that, he left me at the table with the book in my hand. I eagerly flipped open the pages and came across the introduction penned by the author. It read, "In this book, we have compiled all the authenticated information about Cerberus the Reaper and his Minions." As I delved further into the pages, I stumbled upon a passage that increased my interest - it detailed a ritual involving the creation of a salt circle, triggering a flashback of a night from my past. Intrigued, I decided to start from the beginning, where a warning greeted me: "If you are faint-hearted, do not proceed. This is not your typical fantasy."

I felt stupid enough to apologize to him tomorrow and bring him a cookie. A flood of nonsense hit first: roleplay forums; romance book rec lists that looked suspiciously like my browsing history from lonely winters; wikis that read like teenagers high on Mountain Dew had built them at three in the morning. I dug harder, forcing my way past fanfic to the kind of folklore sites with ugly fonts and long paragraphs.