Open your closet, don’t turn on the light. Make sure you have one match with you. Step inside and close the door. If the lights outside of the closet are on, this will not work. Nor will it work if it is daylight. The only room you need is enough for slight mobility.
Stand in the darkness for about two minutes, since that’s all that’s needed. Now, take the match and hold it in front of you and say, “Show me the light or leave me in darkness.” If you begin hearing whispers light the match immediately. If you don’t hear anything, and the match doesn’t ignite on it’s own then don’t turn around. If you light the match too late or not at all after hearing whispers, something will grab you from behind and pull you into what seems like a forever fall into darkness.
If you do manage to light the match in time and nothing happens after, open the door slowly and get out, then close the door but do NOT look inside. From then on, never look inside your closet without the light on at all. Some say if you leave your closet open during the night you can see the demon watching you with two red eyes that glow like matches.…
“OPS-3 do you read? OPS-3 do you read?”
I launched myself for the radio receiver, and jerked up the mouthpiece. I wiped away the film of sweat from my forehead before replying.
“Receiving.” My throat was tight with a lump the size of a golf ball.
“It’s good to hear your voice comrade.”
“You too. How are you doing?” Leaning towards the porthole, I stared out into the cold void, hoping to catch some glimpse of the Soyuz capsule somewhere out in the twinkling stars.
“All systems great. Amazing view of the Pacific right now.”
“Have you managed to reach ground control yet?”
“Comms are still down because of the solar flares, I guess. Should be back up in a couple of hours.”
“I hope so.” The lump in my throat was getting bigger, pressing against the wall of my windpipe. I swallowed, trying to make room for my next words. “I get worried up here on my own.”
“Only seven days to go now Boris, I’m sure you can last that long. I’ll see you then.”
“I can’t wait until you get here. Talk to you soon.” I put down the mouthpiece, and turned back to the porthole, pressing my eyes into the great blackness, to the divine curve of the Earth’s glowing horizon.…
It was a cold winter night in a very very remote town, out in the middle of nowhere. A debate team from a larger city had driven out that morning and had done very well, not finishing until around midnight. When the bus finally set off, it was around 12:45. As students filed onto the bus to go home, the driver turned on the strobe on top of the bus, so if they got in a wreck or anything they could easily be seen.
One boy in particular decided he wasn’t tired, and just stared out the window as they began their drive home. The sounds of his teammates drifting into sleep surrounded him as he stared out the window, forehead against the icy pane of glass. Flurries of snow drifted in and out of his vision, joining the white mass on the ground. They passed small patches of forest followed by endless fields and even more forest. He noticed that every time the lights flashed, he would see images. Creations of his imagination, like when someone dims the lights, seeing faces in the shadows. These images became increasingly frightening, especially as they entered wooded areas.
After a while, he decided he should probably sleep, and lay his head back against the seat.…
Have your ever seen something in your life that you just cannot explain? Do you feel like if you ever mentioned it to somebody else, they would look at you like a raving lunatic? I certainly do.
I remember it vividly. It was on July 14, 2013. I was spending the night over at a friend’s house. We only did what typical teenage boys do, play xbox, talk some shit, look at hot chicks online. Somehow, my friend ended up on a website that contained a bunch of rituals and other creepy shit. The name of the website was something like www.liberatethedamned.com
As he scrolled through, he came across some bizarre ritual called ” Summoning of the Mantis Man”. The tagline for the ritual read: “Summon the Mantis Man and he will grant you one wish.” Then it listed a series of steps
Step 1: Wait until after 12 am to perform the ritual. While you wait, find a praying Mantis and capture it in a jar
Step 2: Lay out and light 15 green candles in the shape of a stick figure, exclude the head.
Step 3: You will need to make a sacrifice. A small animal. A cat preferably.…
Appropriate. It says this in the rules, under the FAQ, word for word. Submissions are supposed to be creepy stories to spread around the internet for a bit of an adrenaline rush on those late nights alone. They’re not real, they’re not meant to be full of explicit gore or violence, they’ve always been simple stories – sometimes overdone, sometimes with plenty of cliches or plot-holes, but never… never truly chilling to the bone, not before that night…
As most of you probably know, creepypasta.org receives plenty of submissions. I had started reading over submissions, deciding to help out after becoming a member. It was much harder than I had expected, to be honest, most of the submissions I turned down didn’t cross my mind even once after they had been rejected. Most violators followed a similar pattern: blatant crappypastas, grammatical errors far too frequent to ignore, rewrites of previous pastas that had been done time and time again.
Now, I’m quite the horror fanatic. I love movies, game, stories, anything with a macabre theme that would send chills down the spine. Unfortunately, being such a frequenter of these sites and sources resulted in a sort of… immunity? to the “creepy”.…
For the tenth time that day, Lucy’s phone rang. She knew that, because she had been counting.
And for the tenth time that day, Lucy ignored the shrill sounds of the phone. She didn’t much care for it, it was if anything annoying and too persistent for her taste. What she had learned, was that persistence got you killed. Much like curiosity. And she would be giving into both those things if she were foolish enough to answer the phone.
But Lucy was far from foolish, in fact she was very in touch with the world and all of it’s faults. The truth of it was, the world wasn’t safe anymore. And she made sure she stayed away from it.
She never lit a single lamp, or even so much as a match. It would draw attention from the outside, as did her phone. But she was too nervous to leave her bedroom. She was too nervous, to leave it even to go to the bathroom. Which was why she had the bucket sitting handily beside her bed. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she was also too much of a wuss to eat. It had been a week since that fear had settled, when the thought came to her that, maybe food was the real danger.…
Coffee is a damned thing. I hate the wretched bitter stuff, it was never compatible with my mild palate – and yet as of late I’ve been up to almost four cups a day. Might as well stick a caffeine IV in my arm. In fact, I’d greatly prefer that. But right now my fondness of coffee is really the least of my worries. I have to stay awake.
I’d managed to do so for four days before I slipped up and rested my eyelids for just a moment. The tormenting visions trapped me for six hours. I managed to wake myself before they killed me, but what they did manage to do was unspeakable. I feel a chill rattle my bones at the thought, and do a quick round of the house. Nothing. Yet.
They started out as just bad dreams. After a particularly taxing day I’d turned in, only to startle awake in the middle of the night after I dreamed of it chasing me. It really wasn’t that bad a nightmare, almost comical, actually – it chased me across a hallway through various doors all Scooby-Doo style. I probably would’ve gotten a chuckle out of it and just gone back to sleep if the haunting image of my pursuer wasn’t burned into the back of my eyelids.…
October 15th, 2018, was the best and worst day of my life. It was the best day of my life, because my wife had given birth to a beautiful baby boy. It was the worst day of my life, because my wife went into a self-induced coma, resulting from excessive blood loss. I took my new son Sam home that day, and left my sick wife at the hospital. I was filled with so much sadness, yet so much love all at the same time. Every night, I put my baby boy to sleep, and I was filled with absolute peace and joy. I had never seen a baby sleep as soundly as my son did. Every night, I wished I could hold my wife as we watched our son dream the night away. I wanted so badly to retain these wonderful images I had of Sam, and I knew my wife would want them too. I knew I had to do something.
My next door neighbor and his wife gave birth to a little girl named Cindy, two years prior. I remembered them showing me a scrap book filled with gorgeous sketches of animals, candies, toys and things of that sort.…
I can’t stand when someone is walking behind me or simply that feeling of being watched or followed. It’s not pleasant at all, and personally for me, it’s unbearable. Let me begin by saying that the reason I practically hate it is due to the fact that’s how I felt that during most of my childhood. All of the events that I will tell you actually happened so you probably will understand that for protection purposes (yourself, my family and mine) I will avoid providing any names or locations. Also, you should know English is not my primary language.
I was born in a small town surrounded by hills, factories and railroads; its weather was mostly dominated by rain, hail and snow and its streets were poorly adapted to handle such drastic climatic changes. Being a small town, the places that you could visit during your spare time were limited, so it wasn’t unusual that you saw half a town in the movies during the weekend or even buying groceries for the week. Extremely boring if you ask me.
It was in this old, forgotten and non–pretty little town that my parents bought their first house. It was relatively large. Considering the continuous movement of trains and tractors and traffic chaos that was common every day, they were lucky enough to get a house away from all that in a relaxed and familiar colony.…
When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I wasn’t quite as bulletproof as my tremendous adolescent ego made me out to be.
Dimitri, Kurt, and I went to the same school, shared many of the same classes, and hung out almost every evening after chow time. We watched prank shows, played video games, talked about who had the nicest rack in school. One evening, we were trading scary stories at the park. Kurt shared the classic story about the single mother who heard a haunting voice on her baby monitor. Like most horror stories, it sounded like total bullshit, but Dimitri told us it had happened to his mom once. On her own monitor, she’d heard a neighbour singing to her baby.…