Scary stories (dont read if you are easily scared)

[dannydevito]

ok now thats creepy

[dannydevito]

The Thing
Posted by spectre
Date Posted: 01/20/2005

In the summer of '98 my cousin and i had decided it would be fun to take a trip out to my familys hunting cabin and stay the weekend.We packed up our gear,my rottweiler Maxx, and enough gas for the generator to last us through the weekend and then headed out.The cabin was located about dead center of my familys 800 acre plot of land in the mark twain forrest near the town of Forsyth Missouri.The cabin had been built by my grandfather sometime back in the 40's.It wasent as run down as you might think as it had been pretty well maintained by my father and i because we used it during deer season.We arrived about 3:00 in the afternoon and unpacked all our gear.When i entered the cabin i noticed a bad smell,like an animal had been in there.I check around and found the back door was open.I didnt really think alot of it at the time because there is nothing really of intrest in the cabin for anyone to steal.I walked around back to put gas in the generator and get it started and noticed that there was a more than unusual amount of animal bones scattered around the area.I figured maybe a coyote or something had gotten into the cabin and was maybe using it as its place to stay for awhile.We unpacked the T.V. and playstation we had brought along to insure we didnt get bored and put it in the back room.We made some dinner and then went to the back room to play some games.We had been back there for a few hours.I would say it was around 8:30 9:00 at night.Suddenly my cousin sat up with a frightened look on his face and looked at the window.He said when the screen went black to load the next stage of the game he could see the window reflecting on the screen and that something had been looking at us through the window.I asked what it looked like and he said he didnt know,but it wasent human looking.

Normaly i would have passed this off as a prank,as he has quite the history of playing practical jokes and messing around.But he was white as a ghost and physically shaking.This startled me.A few moments later i heard something at the back door that sounded like scratching and the door knob was jiggling like something was trying to get in.I quickly grabbed the 22. rifle i had brought along and aimed it at the door incase whatever it was got inside.Then just as suddnley as it started it stopped.My rottweiler was going crazy,barking and growling at the door.Then we heard something run from the back of the roof to the front.I got up enough courage to open the front door and tell my dog to "Get em" normaly this 175 pound monster of a dog would be willing to go out and raise hell with anything.But this time he sat there and coward and wouldnt get within 5 feet of the door.We worked up enough courage to walk out onto the front porch.The front porch sets about 4-5 feet off the ground,is all open,but has a roof over the top of it.We stood there for a few minutes listening.I said something along the lines of "If anyones out there leave us alone.I have a gun and I WILL use it."About that time we saw what looked like a person,of average height,except it was solid black with red eyes.It jumped from the roof to the ground and quickly went under the porch.We only saw it for maybe 4-5 seconds.Then from under the porch,one of the most horrific sounds i have ever heard.I almost cant describe it.It started as a low kinda growl and ended in a high pitched scream.We quickly bolted inside,made sure everything was locked and sat ourselves against a wall away from the windows facing the door with the rifle aimed right at it incase this "Thing" decided it wanted to come inside.One thing that made me twice as uneasy was the fact that none of the windows had curtains or blinds on them.I had the constant feeling of being watched from something outside in the darkness.We kept hearing whatever it was outside scurry around the cabin scratching on windows and even walking on the porch and messing with the door.Thank god we had replaced the doors the summer before with these big heavy oak doors with dead bolts and a steel reinforcment because what followed next would have surely turned out different had we not.The door began violently shaking and whatever it was was beating on the door furiously trying to get inside.This continued for about 10 minutes.I fired 3 shot through the door and it suddenly ceased and we heard whatever it was run off the porch.The rest of the night was pretty silent.We still sat in the exact same spots untill the sun had been up for a few hours and then quickly packed all our things.

When we opened the door we found scratch marks all over it and part of the frame was a little cracked.Around the truck there were foot prints with 3 toes with what appeared to be claws or nails coming out the end.Needless to say,we didnt stick around long to do a scooby-doo style investigation.On the way home i asked my cousin what he saw in the window.He just said,It had huge black eyes and sharp teeth and when he turned and looked it grinned at him and quickly ducked down. A year or so later i told my dad what had happened and to my amazement he beleived me.He said once when he had been out there he saw a strange looking thing in the woods near the cabin.The next day he said those same type of foot prints were around his truck.My father has since passed away and i refuse to use the cabin for hunting anymore.I do however return about 3 times a year to check on the land and the cabin.Always in broad daylight.Always with a shotgun.Always with a friend.

The Watcher
Posted by RoseHathaway96
Date Posted: 12/20/2009

I wrote this story myself. I showed it to my friends one day and a week later the first friend I showed it to, ended up in the hospital, because she said she saw the watcher. This story is very short but made for people who remember things easily. Hopefully you will not end up worse for reading it.

A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. She warned him that he should not look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions, walking straight to his room, and going to bed.

The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to. This disinclination saved his life.

He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn't make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and she said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it.
But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red."

Love Hurts
Posted by spiritgal
Date Posted: 08/01/2009



There once was a girl named Mystery. Her parents named her Mystery because she was an unexpected mystery baby when she was born. She never thought she was good enough for anyone until she met her boyfriend.

They had met in the park where she was swinging on the swings. He saw her, liked her and talked to her.

Her parents always thought that she was a good girl with great grades and everything until they found out about John.

Ten days later her parents finally found out about her boyfriend John, so once she got home they sat her down and talked to her. They said you can't love anyone else unless you love yourself. She wanted to say so I can't love you then, but she didn't feel like hearing their mouths.

Everyday John would walk her home and every time he left to go home and she closed the door, her parents would tell her she wasn't good enough for him. They warned her that he would leave her. She wanted to prove that she was good enough.

One night she snuck out and went to the park that she and her boyfriend had first met at. She looked around the park one last time before her goodbye moment. She took a knife out of her backpack that she had grabbed from her kitchen and stabbed herself over and over again. She fell to the ground with tears in her eyes. Than she saw a light. The last thing she saw was tears in her eyes and the light.

The next day her parents kept calling Mystery to come downstairs to eat. When she didn't come, they went upstairs and couldn't find her, so they called the police.

After a week had past, the police were about to give up. John said this is all your fault, you had to make her feel like she wasn't good enough for anyone.
They were about to argue when they saw Mystery's spirit. She had tears in her eyes. She walked over to John and said "I love you and I will never forget you. I will visit you at least once a month." She kissed him, then she looked at her parents and said "Now am I good enough?" and she disappeared.

They eventually searched the park where she had met John and found her body. She was stabbed to death and had her heart in her hand, which was squeezed tightly. The police say she had stabbed herself to death, but she didn't pull her heart out and squeeze it to death. Someone else had to do this.

John blamed Mystery's parents and the case remains unsolved. John never loved anyone else again but one night he went to their house and stabbed Mystery's parents to death and squeezed their hearts. He said "This is what you did to Mystery, how does it feel"?

The police found them dead the next day because the neighbors had called saying they hadn't seen them. When they discovered John murdered them, they went looking for him. They found him in the grave yard dead next to Mystery's body. He had dug up her body and was holding her close. They found a note nearby saying "Get the evil person who killed Mystery, but for now I am dead with my love. Signed John. p.s. LOVE HURTS.

[KumyaKuma]

Wow creepey
(guys please don't make another thread yets I'm still working on my aliens story)

[dannydevito]

Wow creepey
(guys please don't make another thread yets I'm still working on my aliens story)

we have already settled this that we wont so you dont have to worry

[KumyaKuma]

(OK I'm gonna write another story pretty soon)
My name is Mariana Quatez a maniac who slipped into my house at night he wanted me but i was at my friends house for a sleepover.I knew something was wrong when I saw the blood on the porch when i got home the next day and I ran....

I was running didn't look back but know he was chasing me.I have been running for atleest a half hour because there was a maniac chasing me,who killled my parents and little sister.Luckily I had my brother ,he was in Texas while i was in California.I tripped on a root looked up and saw him.He was ugly and evil.With blackened teeth long yellow fingernail and very dirty.I tried getting up but I was to slow.I was knocked out with a rock the last thing i saw was the maniacs face.When I came to my senses I found ou that I was tied up in and a van.I dirty one ,too.The Maniac was driving and gave me a grin in the mirror.I knew why I was kidnapped I knew a secret that if it fell in the wrong hands the Earth could be taken over and made people mindless slaves.I was taken to the airport.The mainac had taken a shower aand put on fresh clothing.He had a knife and said"If You dare try to tell anyone about me kidnapping you you'll be dead so quick or i'll use other methods of torcher".I could just nod i was so scared.He keeped the knife poking me in the back.WIP WFL .Sorry but i will finish later

[dannydevito]

k

[Zeruko]

Chaos, that first story has Sexual Content in it....

Anyways, here is my story, credit to CreepyPasta-

During my childhood my family was like a drop of water in a vast river, never remaining in one location for long. We settled in Rhode Island when I was eight, and there we remained until I went to college in Colorado Springs. Most of my memories are rooted in Rhode Island, but there are fragments in the attic of my brain which belong to the various homes we had lived in when I was much younger.

Most of these memories are unclear and pointless– chasing after another boy in the back yard of a house in North Carolina, trying to build a raft to float on the creek behind the apartment we rented in Pennsylvania, and so on. But there is one set of memories which remains as clear as glass, as though they were just made yesterday. I often wonder whether these memories are simply lucid dreams produced by the long sickness I experienced that Spring, but in my heart, I know they are real.

We were living in a house just outside the bustling metropolis of New Vineyard, Maine, population 643. It was a large structure, especially for a family of three. There were a number of rooms that I didn’t see in the five months we resided there. In some ways it was a waste of space, but it was the only house on the market at the time, at least within an hour’s commute to my father’s place of work.

The day after my fifth birthday (attended by my parents alone), I came down with a fever. The doctor said I had mononucleosis, which meant no rough play and more fever for at least another three weeks. It was horrible timing to be bed-ridden– we were in the process of packing our things to move to Pennsylvania, and most of my things were already packed away in boxes, leaving my room barren. My mother brought me ginger ale and books several times a day, and these served the function of being my primary from of entertainment for the next few weeks. Boredom always loomed just around the corner, waiting to rear its ugly head and compound my misery.

I don’t exactly recall how I met Mr. Widemouth. I think it was about a week after I was diagnosed with mono. My first memory of the small creature was asking him if he had a name. He told me to call him Mr. Widemouth, because his mouth was large. In fact, everything about him was large in comparison to his body– his head, his eyes, his crooked ears– but his mouth was by far the largest.

“You look kind of like a Furby,” I said as he flipped through one of my books.

Mr. Widemouth stopped and gave me a puzzled look. “Furby? What’s a Furby?” he asked.

I shrugged. “You know… the toy. The little robot with the big ears. You can pet and feed them, almost like a real pet.”

“Oh.” Mr. Widemouth resumed his activity. “You don’t need one of those. They aren’t the same as having a real friend.”

I remember Mr. Widemouth disappearing every time my mother stopped by to check in on me. “I lay under your bed,” he later explained. “I don’t want your parents to see me because I’m afraid they won’t let us play anymore.”

We didn’t do much during those first few days. Mr. Widemouth just looked at my books, fascinated by the stories and pictures they contained. The third or fourth morning after I met him, he greeted me with a large smile on his face. “I have a new game we can play,” he said. “We have to wait until after your mother comes to check on you, because she can’t see us play it. It’s a secret game.”

After my mother delivered more books and soda at the usual time, Mr. Widemouth slipped out from under the bed and tugged my hand. “We have to go the the room at the end of this hallway,” he said. I objected at first, as my parents had forbidden me to leave my bed without their permission, but Mr. Widemouth persisted until I gave in.

The room in question had no furniture or wallpaper. Its only distinguishing feature was a window opposite the doorway. Mr. Widemouth darted across the room and gave the window a firm push, flinging it open. He then beckoned me to look out at the ground below.

We were on the second story of the house, but it was on a hill, and from this angle the drop was farther than two stories due to the incline. “I like to play pretend up here,” Mr. Widemouth explained. “I pretend that there is a big, soft trampoline below this window, and I jump. If you pretend hard enough you bounce back up like a feather. I want you to try.”

I was a five-year-old with a fever, so only a hint of skepticism darted through my thoughts as I looked down and considered the possibility. “It’s a long drop,” I said.

“But that’s all a part of the fun. It wouldn’t be fun if it was only a short drop. If it were that way you may as well just bounce on a real trampoline.”

I toyed with the idea, picturing myself falling through thin air only to bounce back to the window on something unseen by human eyes. But the realist in me prevailed. “Maybe some other time,” I said. “I don’t know if I have enough imagination. I could get hurt.”

Mr. Widemouth’s face contorted into a snarl, but only for a moment. Anger gave way to disappointment. “If you say so,” he said. He spent the rest of the day under my bed, quiet as a mouse.

The following morning Mr. Widemouth arrived holding a small box. “I want to teach you how to juggle,” he said. “Here are some things you can use to practice, before I start giving you lessons.”

I looked in the box. It was full of knives. “My parents will kill me!” I shouted, horrified that Mr. Widemouth had brought knives into my room– objects that my parents would never allow me to touch. “I’ll be spanked and grounded for a year!”

Mr. Widemouth frowned. “It’s fun to juggle with these. I want you to try it.”

I pushed the box away. “I can’t. I’ll get in trouble. Knives aren’t safe to just throw in the air.”

Mr. Widemouth’s frown deepend into a scowl. He took the box of knives and slid under my bed, remaining there the rest of the day. I began to wonder how often he was under me.

I started having trouble sleeping after that. Mr. Widemouth often woke me up at night, saying he put a real trampoline under the window, a big one, one that I couldn’t see in the dark. I always declined and tried to go back to sleep, but Mr. Widemouth persisted. Sometimes he stayed by my side until early in the morning, encouraging me to jump.

He wasn’t so fun to play with anymore.

My mother came to me one morning and told me I had her permission to walk around outside. She thought the fresh air would be good for me, especially after being confined to my room for so long. Exstatic, I put on my sneakers and trotted out to the back porch, yearning for the feeling of sun on my face.

Mr. Widemouth was waiting for me. “I have something I want you to see,” he said. I must have given him a weird look, because he then said, “It’s safe, I promise.”

I followed him to the beginning of a deer trail which ran through the woods behind the house. “This is an important path,” he explained. “I’ve had a lot of friends about your age. When they were ready, I took them down this path, to a special place. You aren’t ready yet, but one day, I hope to take you there.”

I returned to the house, wondering what kind of place lay beyond that trail.

Two weeks after I met Mr. Widemouth, the last load of our things had been packed into a moving truck. I would be in the cab of that truck, sitting next to my father for the long drive to Pennsylvania. I considered telling Mr. Widemouth that I would be leaving, but even at five years old, I was beginning to suspect that perhaps the creature’s intentions were not to my benefit, despite what he said otherwise. For this reason, I decided to keep my departure a secret.

My father and I were in the truck at 4 a.m. He was hoping to make it to Pennyslvania by lunch time tomorrow with the help of an endless supply of coffee and a six-pack of energy drinks. He seemed more like a man who was about to run a marathon rather than one who was about to spend two days sitting still.

“Early enough for you?” he asked.

I nodded and placed my head against the window, hoping for some sleep before the sun came up. I felt my father’s hand on my shoulder. “This is the last move, son, I promise. I know it’s hard for you, as sick as you’ve been. Once daddy gets promoted we can settle down and you can make friends.”

I opened my eyes as we backed out of the driveway. I saw Mr. Widemouth’s silouhette in my bedroom window. He stood motionless until the truck was about to turn onto the main road. He gave a pitiful little wave good-bye, steak knife in hand. I didn’t wave back.

Years later, I returned to New Vineyard. The piece of land our house stood upon was empty except for the foundation, as the house burned down a few years after my family left. Out of curiosity, I followed the deer trail that Mr. Widemouth had shown me. Part of me expected him to jump out from behind a tree and scare the living bejeesus out of me, but I felt that Mr. Widemouth was gone, somehow tied to the house that no longer existed.

The trail ended at the New Vineyard Memorial Cemetery.

I noticed that many of the tombstones belonged to children.

[KumyaKuma]

WOW He wanted to kill him so mean and evil

[dannydevito]

the thing
dosent have any sexual content in it

[LayVander]

Wow willow thats a really good scary story. xD