Scary Stories Messages Novels & Stories

Was that supposed to make me feel happy or something? “There- there is one more message I received from him. I was too scared to read it”. He said to me, and upon listening to what he said, I quickly found the unread message and clicked on it. {They found me. I'm dead}

Katherine explains that the messages started a few months ago, and they've been getting more and more frequent. At first, they were just random words and phrases, but they've become more elaborate and detailed. The messages seem to be about her, but they also contain things that she's never told anyone. She's tried to ignore them, but she can't stop thinking about them. And she's starting to wonder if they're a sign that something is wrong. She's afraid to tell anyone, but she can't keep it to herself any longer.

She said sternly, sitting up. "I've been getting weird messages." I blurted out, going to sit down on the bed. "Since when?" "About a week or two..." "And you were never going to tell me?" "No, uhmmm.... Willa, it's nothing serious." "I want to see the messages." I stretched my hand towards the table for my phone. "These are not weird messages, Serena. These are threats! My God." I knew this was how she would react. "Willa, please calm down." I said, taking my phone from her.

Come on, Bee, I encourage internally. Indeed, the blue phone pings for the seventh time, and MMS messages are listed on the small screen, daring me to open them to reveal whatever he deems necessary. I open them, watch the images d******d and present themselves individually, and then you have the last message, which is just words. Yet each of them instils a fear like no other that settles within the pit of my stomach. Good evening, Bianca, it reads.

She pulled it out, her heart pounding as she read the new message: **"Time is running out, Emma. Leave now, or face the consequences. You have one week." Emma's breath caught in her throat. The urgency and threat in the message were clear, adding to the growing sense of dread and confusion. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she looked around, half-expecting to see someone watching her. But the park was filled with only the sounds of children playing and parents chatting, completely unaware of the turmoil brewing inside her.

Few texts were displayed on the lock screen. 'Where are you? Scar?' 'How was the party? You didn't pick our calls?' 'Is everything alright? What happened? Why aren't you responding to our texts me calls?' 'SCAR I SWEAR TO YOU! PICK UP YOUR PHONE!!!!!!!' 'WE ARE FUCKING WORRIED FOR YOU!!!!!" 'You remember today is New Year! Aren't you going to come back to celebrate? Like we usually did?" "I'M COMING TO YOUR HOUSE RIGHT NOW!!!! AND YOU BETTER BE THERE OR J SWEAR TO GOD I'LL KILL YOU, YOU DUFFER!'

Fingers trembling. The screen lit up like a Christmas tree. Eighty-six texts from Macey. Most were one-liners: “Call me.” “Talk to me.” “Sammie, what the hell is going on?” Some were longer. Panicked. Angry. “You’re scaring me. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m here. Just talk to me.” My stomach turned as I scrolled further. A missed test alert from the registrar’s office. Four Snapchats from Mason.

The email had been short and direct: My office. 8 PM. Don't be late. Ella stared at her computer screen, her stomach twisting into knots. It was 7:47 PM now, and the rest of the office had cleared out hours ago. She was alone on the top floor of Sterling Industries with nothing but the hum of the air conditioning and her racing heartbeat for company. She had screwed up. Badly.

I got my phone out when I got bored and winced when I saw the gazillion messages and notifications I'd gotten in the short time I'd abandoned it. Tons of them were about work and business, but then in the midst of all those messages was one from an unknown number. I opened it with squinted eyes and gasped when I saw the wordings. "Scarlett is not going to survive. She needs to be punished." I gripped the phone tighter and continued to read it until it was engraved on my brain. Shit. What the fuck was going on? Had whoever sent this shit been the one who set up the accident?

AT AROUND FOUR in the afternoon, after Misha showed her family the F******k posts about Soren’s alleged kinky and nasty characteristics which promptly shocked them again, and while they all sat and converged in the living room waiting, like some sort of an apocalypse would happen which would they, the gurus that they were, attempt to stop, Misha’s F******k Messenger chimed. Hi, I’m here, a message from Soren read, and Misha’s heart automatically raced.