It's Always the Quiet Ones Every class has those kids, you know, the ones that looks fragile and weak. They’re ignored throughout the entire year. There’s a reason why no one bugs them.It's Always the Quiet Ones5 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
I am not one of them, I’m those average students on the side line that can socialize like the average human being. I’m not extravagant. I have friends. I do my work. There’s nothing special about me. Although, last year what happened in one of my classes was different.
Edger was one of them, those quiet ones. He didn’t sit at the back of the class like in those cliché stories you read or see in movies. For the first seven months of that school year he was silent. I don’t understand how those kids get away with not answering questions or not going up to the board to write out problems, on presentation days he’d disappear.
On the seventh month of school I’ve started to notice things about Edger. Heck, I wasn’
The (Creepypasta) You lie on your bed, huddled under the covers with a fresh book from the library. Your eyes feel somewhat droopy but you are reluctant to put it down, the story too enticing to pause so you can sleep. It’s nearing the end anyway, you reason silently; not even thirty pages to go. Might as well finish it now.The (Creepypasta)3 weeks ago in Short Stories More Like This
Your eyes skim over the paragraphs, fighting to stay awake.
“She stares at him furiously, blinking back tears as she wills herself not to cry, to show The terror he so deeply craves.”
You pause. “To show The terror”? You look back, thinking you’d spotted a minor capitalization error, but now “the” is lowercase. Strange, you think. Usually you don’t even really notice things like that, but you figure it’s just because you’re so tired and pay it no mind as you continue.
Jeff the Killer x psycho! Reader - part 1Jeff the Killer x psycho! Reader - part 13 weeks ago in Short Stories More Like This
A Lullaby wears White - part 1
Jeff was always confident about his procedures. Mainly because he was always winning. He always got the same result in different variations – bloodbath, screams of his victims satisfying his ears, fear in their eyes moisten his and the blood's iron on his tongue. He always had it all and sometimes, in the case of females, the satisfaction of his mad hormones.
He was swift and did the business quick enough before the cops could arrive, yet slow enough to enjoy it. He considered himself elusive, invincible...
Yet if somebody asked him if the same thing he does to people would happen to him, he'd certainly laugh in their faces in that insane way only he knows how to preform. Just that situation happened before his next kill. Him and one of his rare friends, Eyeless Jack, sat on the peak of small mountain above the city, lights looking just like mirror image of the stars above.
Jeff lit the cigarette, small orange light dancing across h
Jeff the Killer x psycho! Reader - part 2Jeff the Killer x psycho! Reader - part 22 weeks ago in Short Stories More Like This
A Lullaby wears White - part 2
When Jeff next woke up, he felt a horrible pain in the back of his neck and down the back. After his vision crystallized, he realized his head was bent over. Even bigger pain greeted him after he straightened himself up, gritting his teeth hardly. The next thing he realized was his current position – he was sitting.
The itching in his eyes reminded him to take eye drops. He tried to move, to stretch his hands and legs before taking them, but something blocked that action. As he tried again with no avail, he became suspicious.
Then he looked.
He wasn't home. He wasn't even in bed. Instead, Jeff was sitting on a regular chair with iron legs. It was wooden and rather uncomfortable for sitting and he found it absolutely ironic. But the last thing he wanted to think about was irony. The state he was in was what truly bothered him. His wrists were tied against chair's armrests and his legs against chair's front legs. He struggled against
CutsCuts1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
You know those "phantom cuts" you often get on your arms or legs? Scratches from some unknown source that you can’t remember getting?
It’s because they like to touch you. You can’t see, hear, or touch them, and sometimes you don’t even know when they are close, but sometimes you catch a small glimpse out of the corner of your eye. They have strange, deformed faces with hollowed-out eyes, oh and the claws. Such long claws. When they run them up and down your body when you are asleep or not noticing them, the claws sometimes cut you.
It’s a small mistake on their part, but it’s good news. After all, if they can cut, soon they’ll be able to do more. Much more.
Levi X Reader Zombie AU! Ring Around the RosieLevi X Reader Zombie AU! Ring Around the Rosie2 weeks ago in Short Stories More Like This
(Pshhhh!This is what I was listening to on repeat while I wrote this! It's beautiful!!)
Ring around the rosie
Life never lasts long. It's just the way things are. But when the plague came and whipped across the planet, life became shorter. It became a gift, a present given to you by the deity that was watching you. But by no means does that mean the deity will stay. The luck they give you is now limited.
Those who die shock awake, becoming nothing less of a monster. Biting into loved ones, strangers, children and their mothers, sons protected by fathers. They weren't picky.
Survivors of this disease flock from city to city in an endless chase of cat and mouse, having no clear purpose in life other than to serve as food for the creatures that roam free. Everything changes; smell being a big one. From smoke and sweat and the occasional lavender or other flowery scent to raw flesh, the sting of iron that pierces your nostrils, and pure garbage. Not pleasant, but to be expecte
Creepypasta: Point of ViewCreepypasta: Point of ViewCreepypasta: Point of View1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
“911, what’s your emergency?” you say as you talk into your headset. You are responding to your first call of the night. Your job is nerve-wracking but you know full well how vital it is.
“Emergency? No emergencies to be found here. I am sitting in my kitchen, drinking my black coffee in drawn-out, greedy slurps. I always did take refuge in caffeine, although now I am forced to rely on taste alone to tell if it is black or has been tainted by milk or sugar” the voice on the other end says. His voice seems to be old but far from faded or croaking, more akin to being well-aged like a fine bottle of wine.
“Misuse of the 911 emergency response system is a felon-“
“Can you tell?” the man interrupts you.
“Pardon?” you ask.
“Can you tell I’m smiling? I am smiling in response to your statement, taking substantial delight in the perverse reversal of the usual scenario. For once I am privy to
Creepypasta: Don't Look AwayCreepypasta: Don’t Look AwayCreepypasta: Don't Look Away1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
Depression isn’t like other mental illnesses. It is a disease from Hell. It saps your energy, your humanity, and even your will to live. And at this point you are desperate. Doctors with degrees worth about as much as the recycled paper they are printed on have done nothing but fail you. The medication works, to a certain extent, but it fogs your mind and dulls your perceptions. You are willing to try just about anything at this point. Homeopathic medicine, which you honestly regard as nothing more than a placebo wrapped up in an attractive format, is your only remaining avenue.
This is why you have booked an appointment with a hypnotist. You remember hearing somewhere that successful hypnotism is actually nothing more than a form of hysteria and doesn’t actually work through suggestion, but if there is even a 1% chance of success it will be time well spent.
Sitting in the waiting area for the hypnotist’s downtown office, you note th
Get a ClueThere once was a man named Steve, who was hopelessly, undeniably insane.Get a Clue2 weeks ago in Short Stories More Like This
Every day he would live his life as though he were a child in a man’s body, not quite understanding that he was alone in the big secluded house. He began to create imaginary friends in his mind as he sat in his favorite big red chair, where he spent most of his time. These imaginary friends were mostly common household things. When he woke up in the morning, he would say hello to his clock and the clock would respond. He would say hello to his drawer, and the drawer would respond. When he went out to check the empty mailbox, the mailbox would talk to him. Of course, in his mind the mailbox wasn’t empty. It was full of letters from other imaginary friends of his. Meals for Steve were always full of people to talk to. He would talk to the salt and pepper shakers, and any other seasonings that he had.
His only companion was a dog, who would often hide from him. Whenever Steve found the dog, he would grab
Creepypasta: With Friends Like TheseCreepypasta: With Friends Like TheseCreepypasta: With Friends Like These1 week ago in Short Stories More Like This
You aren’t normally one to suggest stupid outings for the sake of stupid outings, but you and your friends are equal parts bored and stressed about high school starting up again. What better way to de-stress than spending a night in an abandoned house on the edge of town that’s reputedly haunted? Okay, there’s probably many ways that are all better and far less convoluted, but screw logic, you and three of your friends have made the decision and that’s how it’s gonna go down. Errol is the only one who won’t be coming. He said he’d be pretty busy tending to something that came up, although he wished you, Avril, Nathan, and Gary good luck in your ghost hunting.
“You guys ready to get scared?” Gray sniggers as the four of you look upon the desolate structure. You drove your friends out here, seeing as you’re the only one whose parents let you use their car.
The boards over the windows have lon
Zombie's NoteZombie's Note3 weeks ago in Short Stories More Like This
H-Hello.. before I go I would like to say something. I want Josie to read this. First off I don't know how long I have left. I seem to be slipping.. and slipping.. Josie, I.. want you to be safe don't try to look for me. I've become someone I'm not.. I'm scared I might hurt you.
Thank you Josie, for taking care of me.. for actually liking me for who I am. All the times I fell and became clumsy, you were there caring for me. You fought the people who were hurting me. They told you not to hang around me but you didn't
care! But.. I want to tell you what I was going through. All the times I said "Oh.. I'm fine" and hiding behind a STUPID SMILE! Oh.. I WAS NEVER FINE! I WAS TEARING APART INSIDE I WAS DIEING! WHY DID I EVER SAY I WAS FINE?! I AM SO STUPID!! UGH! ... Josie, listen to me.. I'm sorry..
I want to start off with my family. Do you know why people told you not too hang around me? My parents were in jail for killing people. People thought I was like them.
On A Day Like TodayA massive food shortage. The people in the cities are the first to go. Gradually, disease and starvation consume most of the farmers. People start the search for food.On A Day Like Today2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
A little girl with red hair and big, curious eyes heads to "the burbs" with her younger brother.
Her brother is stout, with brown, curly hair and chubby cheeks the size of peaches. His skin is olive-toned, unlike his sister, whose skin is as bright as the moon.
While walking to a nearby store, the pair notice famished, sickly looking bodies scattered here and there. One of them lies on a porch.
Porches. Porches that used to house smokers, and people who wanted to watch sunsets, and cats--big, fat cats, and old ladies who had no one better to be with than their big, fat cats. The thought made them sad, and just a little bit dreamy, because they wondered if they'd ever be as old as the old ladies with their big, fat cats.
And so they walked into the store to find everything from magazines to fruits to lamps to used fans. T