Worst Creepypastas Novels & Stories

hunchbacked brother of the old woman. deaf from birth and with a grim appearance, he lived in the dark and smelly basement of the house, with spiders, rats and vampire bats. As time passed, Miss Parker was indifferent to her neighbor; but nevertheless, from a few days to now, she noticed him uneasy. "He must be crazier than ever," said Miss Parker to herself. Doctor Pierre examined the newspapers and after giving a formal farewell greeting, he went inside the house. A dark shadow hidden behind a rickety window in the Parker house, watched the doctor's movements with interest. After sitting in the soft chair of his library, the Grand Master, he began to read the newspaper headlines. A timid

The campsite suddenly filled with a repugnant smell, like rotting flesh. Nathan leaped forward just as the creatures burst from the shadows. They were tall and bulky, twice the height of Nathan, with dangling arms, wide hands, thin bony fingers, vicious claws, and protruded fangs shining with poison. It was like seeing a vampire experience death over and over again, unwilling to die. I stared in horror, a blood lust and anger evident in their faces. I lost my balance, collapsing in panic. Everything became a bur. Junto was flung aside by one of the beast's pale hands. Then it dove after the Shape Shifter with jaws the size of a bear trap.

She’d been at camp for years and knew everyone. She told me about Mario and how he’d won his first classic car in a poker game with a goblin. He’d been a chef in a major city and while she didn’t know exactly why he’d gone feral, she was pretty sure the goblin mafia was involved. “I didn’t even know there was a goblin mafia,” I admitted. “There’s a seedy underworld for every species,” she said. “But out of all of them, the vampires are by far the worst. Nobody crosses them.”

My best friend is bad luck. "Don't be negative. "See you tomorrow then." And thanks for this, really. - Don't thank. It's good to have someone to help you. Take a rest. - Bye. I get out of the supermarket and head towards the highway. The night is lonely and cold as always. It looks like a ghost town. I mean, nothing interesting happens in this town. There are no drive-ins or anything else to distract us. Everything is definitely abandoned. Well, if most people knew the kinds of creatures that inhabit here they wouldn't underestimate this town so much: werewolves (handsome werewolves), vampires, and God knows what other creatures.

Then I squeaked, “Excuse me?” {You died. While eating ramen and croissants together. The coroner is still confused.} My hands flew to my mouth. “I died from a croissant-ramen combo? That’s the most embarrassing death in history.” {Congratulations. I grabbed your soul before it floated off to food-crime purgatory and dropped you here.} “Here being…?” {The movie you watched last night. The one with the hot psychotic wolf king.} I squinted. “The Psychiatrist and the Psychopath? The indie one with the terrible CGI wolves?”

On our eighth anniversary, my boyfriend, Liam Daniels, dragged me along to plan his marriage proposal. That exact morning, my pregnancy test came back positive. Outwardly, I teased him for ruining the surprise. Privately, I called everyone I knew to brag. My parents wept over the phone, saying time flew by too fast. My best friend, Mia Kyle, promised to beat him up if he ever stepped out of line. Even my older sister, Sarah Davis, choked up, swearing she would be there no matter how busy work got. On the big night, I wore the white dress Liam bought me. When I stepped into the venue, I realized the proposal had been transformed into a full wedding reception. I watched Liam Daniels

“I think we’d better hurry.” Ru was walking already and Lyric’s words didn’t cause her to pause, but she did raise an eyebrow before asking, “Why is that?” “Just a feeling.” Before Ru could comment, there was a scurrying sound up in the loft area. Ru stopped and looked up. Across the ceiling, a black shadow began to creep. The form reminded her of a large lizard, but this one had two heads. “What the hell is that?” “That… is a Creeper,” Lyric replied, stepping up beside her. “And where there’s one, there’s a thousand.”

Whatever. He hated Havermouth. Its human population seemed drugged into sedation, or to have been transplanted from some weird sci-fi movie about perfect retro suburbia, with mums in pastels, aprons and high heels who baked cookies and curled their hair at night. And the werewolves… F-k they were cliquey and seemed to come in only two brands – picture perfect or wanting to be.

I did the research. On my whole lower arm, these are my favorite monsters in fiction: Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and course, a zombie. If you can see more closely it's a picture of me—zombified. Aww, thanks so much, Zeke. It just sounds funny when you say 'sexy zombie.'

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.