Silver Creepypasta Novels & Stories

Without further questions Skye just followed his Aunt and goes upstairs to Cloud's room for no reason. *** "Why are you screaming?" Calista asked back. "Ahh-ahh, nothing. I'm just warning you not to go out cause it's a bit dark outside." Ciara stuttered. She wasn't good at lying or acting thing. But this time she needs to try harder to convince Calista that she's being true. "That's fine." Calista replied. Ciara almost died in couch as Calista continues to walk outside the door until one of her feet are finally out.

I curl my claws inward, deepening the wounds further, and the witch lets out another ragged scream. Suddenly, the darkness in the room all seems to slither towards where the witch and I are tangled together on the floor. I blink rapidly, terrified I’m dreaming as the endless pools of shadow twist themselves into thick coils and begin to slink towards us. I hold my ground, staying still and keeping the witch pinned beneath me as the coils wrap themselves around her body and melt into her clothes.

My brain stops working. I can’t quite comprehend what I’m seeing. I’m shaking badly, but at the same time my body feels incapable of any kind of movement. All I know is that I can’t look away from the creature slowly crawling out of the sewers, its legs as thick as branches. Its face is pale and just . . . wrong. It has eight eyes like a regular spider, black and beady and scattered on its forehead. Its hair is long and flowy, and I don’t know if it’s just me, or if it has that blurry, crawling quality that makes my skin prickle.

Sweet Pea Guun followed this force of Brene Brian staggered a bit, half leaning on the armrest, he felt a hot breath hit his neck, there was a blink of an eye. Although he couldn't see it, Brene Brian could still hear the lyrics and creepy music, he closed his eyes tightly, and risked his face in Sweet Pea Guun's chest, the last syllable couldn't stop trembling, "Sweet Pea" Guun, Sweet Pea Guun...... I'm scared......"

Lower jaw unhinging and falling away, face split virtually in half, his maw gaped nightmarishly open so that the wanderers could come— Spiders spilled from him, pouring from the grotesque orifice as though being forced out from deep within. The cinnamon-haired girl’s eyes flew open in mortal dread, her whimpers rising into high, jerking stifled screams which caught in the back of her throat. The long-legged things scurried over the doomed teenager, swaying back and forth upon her before striking with frothy fangs.

But the pain didn’t exist there, moreover her hands were placed at the center of her chest between her heart and mana core. Her body started to transform, turning into an inhuman monster that was described by rumors as the “Mist Creeper” a being that could not be defeated with just blade and magic. The Mist Creeper was notorious for devouring adventurers and removing their sanity. But it was supposedly only rumors told by adventurers to look better or to give themselves something to boast about, up until they saw the real thing. Lyon felt shiver down his spine as the events seemed like it had happened right in front of him before, it was as if he was seeing a de javu.

SERENA’S POV The morning sun spilled through the curtains, painting streaks of gold across the stone walls, yet the warmth could not chase away the chill that lingered in my bones. I jolted awake, my heart racing like a wild animal trapped in my chest. Fragments of last night's vision clawed at me like restless shadows, refusing to let me shake off the feeling of unease. I lay there, frozen, as the images replayed in my mind like a macabre dance.The witch’s laugh, shrill and echoing, the sight of a blood moon, and her whisper promising, “Your blood will unbind me.”

Crouching over, I held onto my guts. Then I felt a scratch at the back of my throat—a strange, crawling feeling. I coughed, but it didn’t go away. Instead, it moved. The spiral was moving—upwards. Panic gripped me, and my legs gave out. I dropped to the ground, my knees slamming into the muddy floor. My fingers clawed at my neck as if I could tear whatever it was out, but the feeling only grew worse. Then I felt it—sliding up my throat, slow and slimy—into my mouth.

Her voice wavered, the denial in her tone cracking under the pressure of the truth. The room felt like it was closing in on me. Shadows twisted and stretched from every corner, their tendrils creeping along the walls like veins of pure darkness, thick and suffocating. The flickering light overhead was fading, its pulse growing weaker with each second. And then, I saw them—snakes, slithering across the floor, slithering in circles, forming a living, breathing carpet of scales that seemed to pulse with dark energy. Their eyes gleamed with a sickening glow, matching the overwhelming sense of dread crawling up my spine.

The candles flicker and I feel stupid. I’m sitting cross-legged on my apartment floor in an oversized t-shirt and underwear, a circle of tea lights around me, reading Latin off a Reddit post I screenshotted three days ago while drunk. It’s Friday night. My friends are at a bar. My ex is posting stories with his new girlfriend. And I’m alone in my studio apartment performing a summoning ritual I found on a thread called “spells that actually work (not clickbait)” because my life has reached a level of pathetic that requires supernatural intervention.