Scariest Creepypasta Stories นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“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.”

“Now you’re almost grown, and almost grown means curious, which means dangerous.” I cross my arms. “I am grown!” I shout. She doesn’t hesitate. “There are bonehounds. Starving, half-dead things with skin stretched tight over broken skeletons. They smell blood and chase it for miles. There are whisperers, creatures that climb inside your head and convince you to walk off cliffs or drink poison. There’s a woman made of smoke who turns into a bird and pecks out eyes with her beak. A man with bark for skin who collects girls and grows them into his tree.”

The bed slammed once, twice, and then a heavy silence fell over the house. Lena came right then. She shuddered, her body writhing against her own hand as a wave of heat crashed over her. She buried her face in the pillow to stifle her cries, her eyes wet and her heart racing at a terrifying speed. When the pulsing finally slowed, the silence that followed felt louder than any music.

I cried out in alarm, clutching my stomach with both hands. “What is it?” I heard Lucien's voice as he asked in a panic but I did not even have the energy to answer him. I just rolled around the sofa and almost fell down and without warning, darkness engulfed me. … “Haha, watch me eat your baby?” a creepy voice sounded, making my hair stand on my body. “I guess that she will be very delicious.” The creepy voice continued. I was in the dark so I could not see whatever thing that was talking. It sometime had the voice of a woman while sometimes that of a man, it was hard to tell what it was exactly.

It was late autumn when they arrived — the trees skeletal, the air thick with a kind of oppressive stillness that seemed to hum beneath the surface of the world. Emily Carter, a graduate student in folklore and urban legends, had heard the whispers about WildWood all her life. She had grown up just a few towns over and had spent years gathering the old stories: tales of the “vanishing patients,” the “howling trees,” and the “night doctors” said to stalk the forest paths. Determined to separate fact from myth, Emily organized an expedition for her thesis, enlisting a few brave companions:

Too exhausted to talk, and on the path to the hag’s house, which was luckily free of dangerous creatures, night fell on us. Thinking back on it, we had tried a lot. I could imagine people dying from being covered in those scorpions. They wouldn’t even have had a chance. If they had survived the scorpions, their souls could have been ripped apart from their bodies, by those jealous corpses, or they could have fought among themselves, and killed each other under the illusion Lucien and I were put under. If they happened to be alone, then the corpses could have gotten them because the fear alone would not allow them to think of anyone else. It would finish them.

Frustration bubbled inside me as I clicked link after link, searching for anything that felt real. Then I found it. An article buried deep in an obscure forum, titled “The Forgotten Threat: Nightwalkers Among Us.” “Guys,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “I think I found something.” They crowded around me as I scrolled through the page. It described creatures that thrived in darkness, their eyes pitch black, their presence marked by death and destruction. The details were sparse, but the fear in the writer’s words was palpable. “This has to be fake,” Zane said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

They emerge from a hole in the ground, a dark and menacing opening that seems to be the very gate to the underworld. The Drider, an equally terrifying entity, accompanies them. Its appearance is a grotesque blend of spider and humanoid, with a body covered in dark hair and long, sharp legs that creak with every movement. Its eyes, a bloody red, reflect pure malice and an insatiable thirst for power. Together, Drider and the Skinning of the mind are the embodiment of horror, a sight that could chill the bravest of souls to the bone.

Blood. Screams. Crunching sounds. Claire lying dead in the forest. Blood. Screams. Crunching sounds. Claws ripping through so many bodies. Blood. Screams. Crunching sounds. The vampire, witch and werewolf circling her, ready to rip her apart. She sat up with a jolt and saw the darkness in the room. She was sure she had left the light on again, but... Her heart pounded out of her chest as the darkness seeped through the windows, inching closer to her. The sticky, burning feeling covered her whole body, licking her skin like she was still in the forest. She was paralysed on the bed, unable to jump off and run to safety.

Hendrix POV After that weirdo's silly bedtime story about end-of-the-world cults or something, I could tell Anna's resolve was breaking down. Those weird creatures and their horrifying objects were like living nightmares come true. They had twisted bodies and soulless eyes that looked right into your mind with cold malice. Their rude and inappropriate presence made me lose even my normal confidence. But giving in to fear was the first thing that led to loss. And there was no way in hell I was going to be added to Scar's crazy plan to kill people from our family tree.