Lady Killer Three young women were waking down an ally one night. One of them was called Cloe she had brown hair and hazel eyes. Her best friends were twins Cat and Sam both had blonde hair and sea green eyes.Lady Killer6 hours ago in Short Stories
The three had been testing all week and needed to relax. Another one of their classmates recommend a certain club. 'The Laughing Jack' was the name of the hangout.
Cloe wanted to turn back but her friends told her otherwise. Sam; "Like come on Cloe! We need this! Who knows we may find a stub in there... Hmmm."
Cat; "Sam has a point expect the last part we need this!" They entered the hangout to see it was pure chaos in there. Girls dancing on poles, beer being guzzled down by almost everyone and even one or two users where there.
The three girls quickly went to the bar. Sam had ordered two full mugs of beer. One m
Babysitting The speedometer dropped below twenty and the car turned into the driveway. The vehicle stopped, the girl put it into park, and took the keys out of the ignition. She ground her teeth slightly and glanced down at her gas gauge. The line was almost on empty. She stared out her windshield at the grey house in silence. Her eyes darted back down to her wheel. She glanced up at the house, back down at her gas gauge, and then back up at the house. Her fingers drummed against the wheel, and she pursed her lips. She shut her eyes for a moment, let out an inward sigh, and threw open her car door.Babysitting8 hours ago in Short Stories
Thunder rumbled subtly in the backdrop. Little raindrops sprinkled down from grey clouds. The girl ducked her head slightly and quickly made her way to the front door.
Her finger pressed against the doorbell. A monotone ring
ClarissaI had a friendClarissa9 hours ago in Short Stories
She was beautiful
Her name was Clarissa
Her name was beautiful too
We were young girls when we met
And we made each other special dolls
Me and Clarissa were the best of friends
We both loved dolls
We did anything and everything together
But we mostly played with our dolls
I had a Clarissa doll
and Clarissa had a me doll
We were friends in elementary school
And we always had our dolls
We were still friends through middle school
And we kept our dolls hanging on our backpacks
But then Clarissa stop hanging out with me in high school
And she stopped carrying her doll
Clarissa met another girl
Clarissa wanted to be friends with that girl
I suggested we all be friends
Even though I didn't want to share Clarissa
We tried to all be friends
But the new girl didn't like me
She only liked Clarissa
Clarissa suggested I go find another friend
But I didn't want another friend
I wanted Clarissa
So I made Clarissa's new friend go away
Clarissa was sad
I didn't li
A Plane Flight Into InsanityYou know how when you're flying Ina airplane and you look at all the houses and cars under you and they look like little toys and models? Well whenever I saw that I always thought it would be so fun to bomb the city's and use the planes to destroy all the skyscrapers while watching city after city burn to the ground.A Plane Flight Into Insanity9 hours ago in Short Stories
I would tell my mom about it but she never listened.
She never listens.
To be honest nobody ever listens to me.
I'm the middle child in the family of seven.
That's disclosing my mom. I don't have a dad.
So why should anybody listen? I'm invisible. Or was.
Maybe if they had just listened, just once, I wouldn't be where I am now.
Let's just say I finally decided to have some...fun~
Nobody ever told me it was wrong when I was little so I thought nothing of it. After all, it felt so right.
2,716 males killed.
1,950 females killed.
4,666 people killed in all.
Of those 4,666 people 683 were children, twelve and younger, and 313 were elderly people.
I kept track
argle flargle bargleJames Miller was an average guy. He was in his late 20's with an office approved haircut. He was 5' 10" in height with a slightly athletic build. He came from a nuclear family and had one himself. His hobbies included carpentry and watching movies. He had beers with the guys on the weekends and spent the rest of his time at work and with his loving adorable family. Well most of his time. If there was anything rather weird about him it was his obsession with drowning. It wasn't a fear, more on the lines of fascination. Moreover, it was not his drowning that held his mind hostage but the drownings of others. Sadly he had entertained this interest at least four times now. There was no malice in it though. It was more akin to a how a disturbed child kills frogs. Experiments with life and death. He knew no one would understand though. If only everyone had been taught by his father, James would think to himself. One of the many lessons happened when he was seven. He found his father in the gargle flargle bargle9 hours ago in Short Stories
The Origin of Cruentus DemoniaThis Story is about a 16 year old boy named Zack Shadron. He was definitely a strange one. Even in his darker and some would say Gothic style he could be a cheerful and outgoing person, but other days he would just close himself off from the world. It's clear that he didn't have the bravery to approach anyone. It was September of 2012 when he had moved across the country. The reason for this was because, him and his single mother wanted to start fresh. His step father at the time passed away due to lung cancer. His biological father left him at the age of 3. His mother was suffering through a clinical depression because of it. So the move felt like the best thing to do. He once lived in the small town of Spring Grove of Pennsylvania. Now he lives within the area of Chehalis in Washington state. However; the school he had wanted to go to, W.F. West, wouldn't take him in due to the fact that he didn't live within the area of the said school, so they didn't have to take him in. He had toThe Origin of Cruentus Demonia13 hours ago in Short Stories
DisturbedLike a thin balloon flushed to full with water she was stretching at the seams. Every last inch of her patience was occupied by more bullshit than she could spare. She was all thinned out, hardly anything keeping her temper from taking out her razor discomfort on the individuals around her. In fact she was slow close to tearing that she roughly excused herself from the group and forced the door open. Without trying she'd put just a little too much force into the attempt and the door slammed against the wall with a noise that split the silence like a blaze of lightning. tearing violently through the darkness. The sound in its own was enough to draw the attention of every person there. That was when it clicked, not a word spoken otherwise. They fucked up big time.Disturbed14 hours ago in Short Stories
It was only when she went outside that she ripped some white headphones from her pocket, practically her phone in her hands as forced the aux into the jack and placed the buds securely in her ears. Her thumb worked shakily at s
Modern London and Victorian London Pt 2 unfinish London, England 2017Modern London and Victorian London Pt 2 unfinish 18 hours ago in Short Stories
I head to my first class, humming a song by SayWeCanFly and then my humming begins to stop slowly. I stand in the middle of the hallway, frowning slightly in confusion and try to listen to the surrounding voices.
"Angel~...Come and play with me Angel...." A sinister voice practically whispers in my ear, burning with absolute hatred.
For a second, my whole body went numb and my breathing growing heavier. 'No,' I begin to think, blinking back tears as I try not to panic at t he strangers words. 'It can't be him... We said goodbye and everything... Just how?'
"Hey Angel!" Dylan replies, appearing in front of me with a huge smile.
I snap out of my thoughts, blinking a good hundred of times and look at him. "I-... Um... Hi Dylan." I whisper s softly, my purple bangs going in my face.
He frowns at my sentence of some kind, he nudges me a bit and says, "What's wrong Angel? Look like you've seen a ghost."
I shake my head at his 'absurd' ques
London, England 2017, Victorian England pt 1London, England 2017London, England 2017, Victorian England pt 119 hours ago in Short Stories
"Come on Angel, it's not that scary," Dylan Moon yells at me in the middle of the night.
I chew on my lower lip nervously, looking back at the party that was probably the safest place that I felt secure at. "I-I don't know Dylan... It seems too risky to play at night... Maybe we should do t his in the morning," I reply softly, while bringing my coat sleeves over my hands that were turning blue rather fast.
"Oh, stop being such a baby, Angel. You decided to come along and do this." Tyler replies, appearing next to Dylan as he holds up the Ouija Board into the air; rattling it carelessly as if it wasn't scary. A coy smile plays on his lips, as he slung an arm around Dylan's shoulder.
"Actually, you guys dragged me to come with you. I didn't agree to do this with you morons..." I mutter, as I make my way through the cemetery and trying my best to avoid the gravestones.
Dylan shimmies away from Tyler, his black bangs going in his eyes and he gives out a woot. "Yay! Ang
Till MorningI awoke in my bed, sweat running down my forehead. I wipe my face with my blanket and sit up, looking around the dark room. Just another nightmare, another brain puzzling nightmare. I sit in bed pondering the dream. Also because I was afraid to leave the bed itself. In the dream my bed was my fort, my protection. Nothing could touch me but they tempted me. They said if I stepped off everything would be alright. When that didn’t work they tried illusions. I was still to scared to move but in the end they tried forcing me off. That's when I woke up.Till Morning21 hours ago in Short Stories
I looked around the room looking for any sign that it was okay for me to step off the bed.. Nothing was happening, no taunting. I move my legs from under the blanket and over the edge of the bed just above the floor. Ive been dreaming about this for three nights now. Each night getting worse, but somehow I was somewhat okay with that. I step onto the ground and sit there; waiting for some kind of response for my action but nothing happe
Verlassen In a small town known as Mexico NY there was a teen who would stay up late writing Creepypastas or other types of tales. He was recently stuck in trying to make an original tale.Verlassen1 day ago in Short Stories
The teen was writing and drawing draft after draft throwing them away for one reason or another. His garbage bin was a mountain of paper and scrapes. He laid his head on his desk throwing yet another tale away.
It was still day. He then heard his mother come down the stairs. He quickly hid the bin under his bed knowing she would never understand.
Mother; "Howard! Take out the trash!" He hated when they called down to his room. He then loaded all the rejects from his bin and floor into a trash bag.
He then placed all of the trash in the dumpster. It reaked a vile sent. His father must have thrown away the expired f
What Makes us Monsters (Part 1)January 17, 1948What Makes us Monsters (Part 1)1 day ago in Short Stories
A beautiful young women, named Marie, had just gone into labour and was drivin to the hospital. She was afraid, because her baby was strangly, two months over due.
At the hospital, they began getting ready to being the process of getting the little baby girl in Marie's whom out a few minutes after getting settled in the room. For Marie, it was one of the most painful experiences of her life, not only because it was the first time she has ever givin' birth to a child, but mainly because the baby, once again, was over due by two months and was slightly larger than a normal baby.
But when the baby came out, it didn't scream, it didn't cry. It didn't breath. The baby was deathly pale and covered in large black veins.
Behaving new sorts of technology, the doctors injected various new substances said to hold the ability to bring someone or something dead, back to life. But as expected, they didn't work.
December 27, 1949
The difference between you and your reflectionThere is nothing different between you and your mirror reflection. That is obviously what you think, of course, that's logical. It's nothing more than just you reflected on a piece of glass. Well...That might be you, or someone who looks like you, or then what it really is:The time, the universe separated you and the other you.The other you, doesn't know about you and you didn't know about the other you, until I tell you. The person is much like you. The person looks and acts so much like you, that you think it is you. The person or as called "The other you" can actually have different friends, different things to do with a family, different hobbies, different pets or even a simple thing like different favorite color.The difference between you and your reflection2 days ago in Short Stories
Your job for the person and the person's job for you is to reflect how you look.Still in rare cases the universe can go wrong and the person or you may die before the other. That means then, when the person gets buried the person or maybe you, still have to do the job, to