Spooky Chat Stories Novels & Stories

Pfff! Staring intently at my phone screen, an icon which looked like a chat bar appeared across the screen. It was framed with dripping bloods, dry bones and skulls perched around it, the bar was demarcating me and the creepy user. What’s with all these death signals? On the chat bar, appeared a text. “I invented it not for my own use. You bought it but don't want it. And he used it but doesn’t know how to feel or see it. What is it?”

Jace could feel the magic of the moment enveloping them. “Who wants to start our first campfire story?” Jace asked, his heart racing with excitement. “I will!” Mia volunteered, her voice bright. She began to weave a tale about a brave knight who ventured into a dark forest, guided only by the whispers of ancient spirits. The group listened intently, captivated by her imaginative storytelling. As the night wore on, each friend took turns sharing stories—some thrilling, some funny, and some filled with lessons learned. Jace felt a sense of belonging as they laughed and shared their dreams under the vast expanse of stars.

She opened him up before everyone was about to get home and scared Zac that if he told this to anyone then she would lock him again. When I returned home, I looked for Zac all over the house but couldn't find him. “Have you seen Zac?” I asked Caroline “No.” She answered and continued using her phone. I went to my room and closed the door. I sat on my bed and heard something strange. Someone was weeping. I looked under my bed and I saw Zac hiding and weeping under my bed. “What happened Zac?” I hugged him after he came out. “She...She--” He couldn’t speak out of fear. I consoled him and gave him some water.

The university library was nearly empty at 9 PM on a Thursday, exactly how Mara preferred it. She'd claimed her usual spot in the back corner of the third floor, surrounded by towering shelves of forgotten literature that nobody bothered with anymore. Her psychology textbook lay open in front of her, but she'd read the same paragraph three times without absorbing a single word. The quiet was hypnotic. Just the distant hum of the heating system and the occasional whisper of pages turning somewhere far below. Then she heard footsteps.

In the end, I decided not to do it since I got scared of the possibility that she would come for me instead. But until now, I still can’t get over how terrifying that white lady's face looked.. Those are stuff worthy of nightmares... +++++++++++ And once again we end another storytelling session here at the Supernatural Spa. Next time, we will still talk about modern-day hauntings and you might be surprised at what items there are in our tales... So until next time dear reader, this is your Storyteller, The Diwata, saying good night and fare thee well. Hope to see you again soon.

"Most people don't." "Oh, she definitely did." "Why?" "Because she'd light candles everywhere and tell me it was an adventure." She laughed quietly at the memory. "We'd make hot chocolate." "We'd tell stories until the electricity came back." Lucien listened without interrupting. "What kind of stories?" "Bookshop ghosts." He blinked. "Ghosts?" "The friendly kind." She grinned. "They supposedly rearranged books during the night because they got bored." "And you believed that?" "I was seven." "...Fair enough."

A low growl was heard by Stella and the same was heard by Benjamin but both thought it was just their illusion. Stella ignored her inner voice and continued to talk to Lima. But then something strange happened frightening everyone. Tehran was once upon a time called Hamster the city where Princess Veronica ruled. It was past twelve in the night. The power was down and there were no street lights glowing. Benjamin and Stella were passing through the road of the mansion Princess Veronica had locked long years ago. The street was completely dark and dead silent but suddenly strange voices were heard from the mansion. "Come on release me. Come here.... please...." There was a desperate growling

asked one of them. “I have some back in the room. It’s for the sleepover.” replied the other. “I’m so excited!” “Me too! I can’t wait for the Bloody Mary! I will be the one to try it out first!” “Oh my gee! Are we going to read some creepypasta stories for the scary parts?” “Yes! And I heard Nympha will also tell us some true supernatural stories when she was still in the Philippines!”

“Fine, we’ll let Hellfire tell us a ghost story.” “I don’t know any ghost stories,” I say. “What about you, Siren?” Venom asks her. “Nope.” “Well, then, it’s time the two of you become good at making up stories,” Intrigue says. For the next couple of hours, while Hacker and Sphinx work in the van, the rest of us make up ghost stories. I have to admit, Raptor is really good at making up scary stories and Intrigue is as well. Megan’s aren’t terrible, but Venom’s are, as they said, pretty stupid. I’m not sure mine are any better, but I made up one about the ghost that lives in the river, and it made everyone glance at the river we’re sleeping beside more than once.

"Oh, come on, you have got to be joking! You are not telling me that the old dear who runs the post office and village shop is a ghoul? That is ridiculous. Talk about half-baked!" Saffy almost threw the china mug into the sink. She had been here just a few days, and so far, she had seen a naked man at the side of the road. She had watched a bit of the past from four hundred years ago in her front room, and had crazy dreams about werewolves and discovered his fur in the garden, and now she was corresponding with her ghostly grandmother. God, what a fuck up. It's not real. It can't be!