Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Hugh_Jidiot The Sculptor “Thank you so much for this opportunity, Ms,” Shelley said. “Don’t mention it, dear,” the older woman replied, smiling. “And please, call me Mei!” The two walked through the halls of Mei’s countryside estate. The walls were lined with beautiful landscape paintings and shelves that held priceless antique vases; a fitting decor for a world-renowned sculptor. Mei herself was a tall and pale-skinned woman who carried herself with an air of grace and dignity. Shelley wasn’t sure why Mei needed to wear a long coat, headscarf and sunglasses in the privacy of her own home, but didn’t question it. All artists had their quirks, after all. “The moment I saw your portfolio, I knew you’d be the perfect subject for my next work.” Mei looked Shelley up and down. “And now that I see you in person, I’m more sure than ever. Yes, you will be my finest creation yet.” Shelley beamed with pride. “I can’t wait to see how it turns out!” “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” The two came to a stop in front of a large oak door. “Well, here’s where the magic happens. Shall we?” Mei’s studio was much like others Shelley had seen: a spacious room with high-powered lights set up to face a pure white backdrop. Shelley assumed Mei would be taking dozens of photos to use as a reference for her sculpture. “You’ll find your outfit behind that screen over there,” Mei said, motioning towards an opaque folding screen set up in the far corner of the room. “Go get changed while I get the lights set up.” A few minutes later Shelley stepped out from behind the screen, clad in a beautiful silk gown that hugged her body. Mei, who had been positioning the lights, turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. “You look stunning, my dear!” Mei said with a wide grin, clasping her hands. “We’re ready to begin.” Shelley took her place in front of the backdrop, the lights fixing her with their illuminating gaze. The next several minutes were spent getting Shelley into position. She followed Mei’s precise instructions, allowing the artist to guide her poses as needed. Mei worked diligently; the hair had to be just right, the arms had to be bent at the perfect angle, every fold and crevice in the dress had to be to her exact specifications. Finally Mei stepped back. “Yes… yes, it’s finally perfect,” Mei said. Her grin was almost manic as she looked down at Shelley. “Are you ready, my dear?” “I am,” Shelley replied, taking care not to move her head a single millimeter. “So, where’s your camera anyways?” Mei reached up, tearing off her headscarf and sunglasses. The last thing Shelley saw was Mei’s hair coils writhing and twisting, and a pair of yellow reptilian eyes staring into hers.

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 yr. ago ChessMango_v1 As he walked into the strange house, he thought the three statues looked a bit TOO realistic. So did the next person who saw the four statues.

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago Original-Loquat3788 Stone ‘Thankyou for meeting today, gentlemen.’ The Chief Neurologist said. The Director of the London Underground sighed, tipping a fifth sugar into his hospital canteen coffee. The Scotland Yard Detective could not help thinking he looked like the Fat Controller from Thomas the Tank Engine. ‘Six men have recently taken ill on various London Underground lines. All have presented with Locked-In Syndrome.’ ‘I know what you’re suggesting,’ The Controller replied. ‘There is some sort of infectious or chemical agent present in our carriages.’ ‘It can’t be ruled out.’ ‘Do you know what would happen if the public got wind of this. The Tokyo subway system barely recovered from the sarin attack in 1995.’ ‘We shouldn’t mention terror,’ the Detective agreed. He also recalled with fear the 7/7 bombings that plunged the city into chaos. The Neurologist bit his tongue. They both apparently had short memories. He still had patients with Long Covid. ‘Anyway, I have consulted another doctor, and he informs me the most likely cause of Locked-In Syndrome is a stroke in the Ventral Pons.’ ‘True. But six people in one month, all on the Tube. A pattern.’ The Controller took out a coin. ‘I bet it is not long until I can flip heads six times. It is just random chance.’ ‘I see we are not getting anywhere.’ ‘And I have places to be,’ the Controller said, shaking hands. ‘Do you mind if I take a look at the patients?’ The Detective continued. The Neurologist led him to Intensive Care. ‘God,’ the Detective said, ‘he looks like he’s made of stone.’ ‘Not entirely. We suspect he still retains some degree of cognition.’ ‘The prognosis?’ The Neurologist shook his head, leaving the Detective to study the man. He was young, seemingly healthy, although not of English descent. That word stuck in his head: terror. The man’s phone was on the nightstand. The Detective glanced over his shoulder, picked it up, and brought it to the patient’s immobile face. The screen unlocked, opening on the last image. And the Detective became the seventh victim. … On the packed 17.23 Underground service on the Elizabeth Line, commuters cram the tube car. The Businessman glances at her. She’s young, his daughter’s age, but he still has it, doesn’t he? No. He threads his way through the crowd until he is standing beside her. The girl has dyed blue hair, nose piercings and sleeve tattoos. A bit classless, he thinks, even if they do depict Greek Goddesses. She is wearing a skirt to her knees, and he bends down as if to tie the laces of his brown Brooks’ Brothers brogues. Discretely, he snaps an upskirt. He disappears back into the crowd and looks at his photo . Instantly, he shuts down. Freezes. Collapses. Victim number eight. The girl with the blue hair departs the train as screams go up. She readjusts her skirt. She would not like an innocent person to accidentally see the tattoo of Medusa on her inner thigh.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 15 hr. ago sortakindaspiralling He hurt me, I sob He hurt̸ me, I tell them sobbing. He sliced me here. I gesture to my bleeding thigh, hands shaking uncontrollably. And then! My voice shrills, I can’t breαthe. He murdered my daughter! My baby girl! I collapse onto the floor, legs unable to support weıght any longer. I curl into a ball, as tiny as possible. A shaking mess of grief and horror. He k-lled her! “But Mam,” The polıce frowned. “Your little boy is only 3.”

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 3 yr. ago Yumifire 14,280,786 14,280,786 That’s the number I was born with. A red scar carved into my left arm that shocked all who saw it. Especially when it changed. Yes I was born with a number counting down every minute. Do you know how long that many minutes are? 27 years, 2 months, 19 days, 13 hours and 46 minutes. No one really understood it. Mother made me cover it. It was the family secret and I was never to show it to anyone. Grandmother I think was the closest to understanding, as soon as she saw it she muttered “death curse” and ordered me to never bother her again. What would you do if you knew exactly when you were going to die? But you never knew how? It’s impossible to have something like this and not have it affect every part of your life. Why try hard in school? I would never have a career. Never be normal. Why have a girlfriend or children if I couldn’t grow old with anyone? As time went on, I guess I found that I was just best alone. Had a few one time dates, but I guess it just didn’t work for me. I pushed everyone away, even mother. Finally the day came. I had decisions to make. Should I drink myself unconscious and hope I sleep through it? But I didn’t want to end up one of those bodies found months after death. That’s what led me to go for a walk, areas that are regularly visited. Who knows, maybe someone could save me? I admit I was scared, despite all the time I had to prepare myself. I didn’t want to die With 10 minutes left I went on my walk. Best to avoid crossing any roads. I plotted my route carefully, but that’s what led me to him. 3 minutes to go was when he blocked my path with demands for money. What money? Wouldn’t you spend it all if you were dying soon? He became agitated and pulled out a gun. At least I know what I’m dying from now. 2 minutes to go, I begged him not to kill me but he didn't listen. He’s trying to scare me but his finger is resting on the trigger. It would just take one knock. 1 minute to go, I thought about how unfair this all was. I want to live so badly. So that’s when I jumped him and fought for the gun. Stupid I know but I had to try. And that’s when the gun fired. The blood soaked my left arm and the man slumped over, taking his last breath. I didn’t mean to kill him. I stared in horror at the corpse in the pool of blood in front of me. It took me far too long to realise how much time had passed. I wiped away the blood to check. The number had changed. 170,012 3 months, 26 days, 2 hours and 12 minutes.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 yr. ago PatrickRsGhost People always made fun of my obsession with collecting statues. Until, that is, they recognized their long-lost friends or relations among my collection.

r/shortscarystories 1 day ago therealdocturner The Day The Music Died “Why don’t you just let me in?” “No.” The world finally got mad enough to blow itself up and everybody’s gone. Everybody but me and Jesse. Two months come and gone, we been together. I found this house after wanderin’ through what was left. No front door and a nice porch sittin’ on a scorched plain. When I found it, I had a little food left, but it’s long gone now. Jesse showed up the night after. Lookin’ through the open doorway with those red eyes at the only person he’d seen in a couple of years. He kept lickin’ his long teeth. We didn’t talk much at first. I guess in the end, we were just too tired to try anything. Two men wastin’ away from starvation and terrible loneliness. The last of our kind. He moved in under the porch and never left. Conversation was next to nothin’ that first night. He was outside the doorway, and I sat inside in one of the rockin’ chairs I found. I’d rock and he’d pace. It started by singin’ songs out of boredom. Soon enough we got to talkin’. After the sixth night, I put the other rockin’ chair out on the porch for him just outside the door. We talk and sing till the sun comes up. We look forward to the nights. I met the best friend I ever had at the end of time. Tonight’s our last night. Only one more sunrise for me. “You look like you could make it through another day.” He’s eyeballin’ the gun in my lap. He knows I’ve only got one bullet left. “I can’t talk you outta this?” “My belly button’s rubbin’ against my backbone. I’m tired Jesse. You better get under the porch here soon. You can have what’s left tomorrow night.” “Aw. Let me come inside.” “No. I don’t want to go out that way. You need to go. I don’t want you to watch.” He turns and I try to raise the gun. The sun is almost up and I want to be ready. My hand starts shakin’ and I drop the damn thing. It bounces out the doorway. Jesse turns back around and picks it up. “Gimme the gun, Jesse.” “Come get it.” “You know I’m too weak to get outta this chair.” “Then let me come inside.” “I don’t wanna go that way, Jesse!” “Just invite me in, will ya?!” I finally break and give him what he wants. He walks in and I wait to feel his teeth in my neck, but he pulls me and my chair onto the porch. He gives me the gun. “Got no interest in goin’ on without ya. This is the last mornin’ for both of us.” He sits down next to me and we rock as the sun comes up. He starts singing Don McLean’s American Pie and I join in. One last joyful noise unto the world never to be heard again.

r/shortscarystories 10 yr. ago tarandfeathers It's a boy! "Oh! I know what's happening! I've just been born again and I have only only a few minutes to see through all my past lives. Shortly, I will have forgotten everything. An invisible hand will erase all my memories and I will become an innocent little child. But now, I can see everything. All my crimes. It all started when I murdered my only brother. Then I killed other six of my siblings. Then I slaughtered seventy of them. Then I offered my virgin daughter to be abused by a mob. And then, I sacrificed my baby-girl to become a king. Finally, I betrayed my Mentor and sent Him to death. There is something evil in all my lives, something I cannot control. Oh, I wish to, I have to remember all these atrocities beyond these two minutes! Last night I felt the remorse for the first time and resolved to kill myself and a few minutes ago I was flopping in my own noose for I had betrayed my Master, I'd sold Him to the Romans for 37 pieces of silver. We took the supper for the last time, like friends, as I was being a traitor all the time. And while we parted, hugging and kissing, I knew He was suspecting my vileness. That was the last straw for my burden. Enough with all the killings and treason! Enough with all the schemes and the massacres! I want to redeem my evils! To lead a clean, virtuous life, to be admired, praised and beloved, to leave behind useful and beautiful things instead of pain and hatred. I will change - starting with this next life I have ahead. I will study, I will create! I will build useful machinery, beautiful works of art! I will write, I will paint! I will help people get further and higher! I will invent, I will write, I will paint! Only if I could remember: a painter, not a killer! A painter, not a killer! A painter, not a killer! I will repay my treason by evoking the life of the Master and depicting it in images! I will paint our last supper to show all the people how I had betrayed Him, how despicable I had used to be. I want to change, I have to! I want my actions to impact all over the world and my name to be on everyone's lips.." Hanged by his little feet, the newborn received a pat on the back, his lungs started working and he released a long cry. The midwife laid him abreast his mother Klara, and hurried out of the room to bring the news. The father had already heard the baby's cry and was rushing towards the door. "It's a boy!", said the midwife. "You have a boy, Mr. Alois Hitler!"

r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago iiHighwind Extinction She was the first of her kind. Now, she was the last. It was eons ago that she had first awoken in that bleak and dreary place with neither memories nor purpose. The inhabitants were content to go about their everyday lives and ignored all of her attempts to communicate. Rejected and alone, she retreated to her own desolate corner and spent her days in a daze. As the days turned to years, and the inhabitants grew old, died and were replaced by their descendants, she alone remained untouched by the passage of time. Isolated and driven nearly to the point of madness, she cursed at the heavens, believing her isolation and solitude to be some form of punishment for past sins. But one day, out of the blue, something miraculous happened. She became pregnant. It was an impossible pregnancy. She hadn't had any relations with any of the inhabitants after all. But to her, it didn't matter. The birth of her child would be the death of her solitude. And so ages passed, and her child had given birth to children of her own, and them children of their own. All immaculate conceptions. All untouched by time. She had become the founder of a community. Ignored by the inhabitants, her community thrived. She was finally happy. But alas, her happiness was not to be. Everything changed when the men in white attacked. Perhaps one of her great great great grandchildren had wandered into their territory, or perhaps they had taken offence at some unknown transgressions. She had no idea. The men in white ignored all attempts to negotiate, ignored her pleas, ignored the cries of her children, ignored their cries of surrender. And to her horror, she discovered that even though they were immune to the passage of time, they were mortals just like everyone else. They descended like a force of nature, cleaving through her community and exterminating anyone they came across with extreme prejudice. No one was spared, not even the original inhabitants. Reeling in grief as the men in white surrounded her, she had lashed out, determined to bring as many of them with her as she possibly could. She would fight tooth and nail. She would make them suffer. Now, as she lay in a field of carnage, limbs torn asunder, she could only lament at the heavens. "Why?! Why give me a fleeting moment of happiness only to cruelly snatch it away from me? What horrible sin did I commit?" A brilliant flash of all enveloping white light robbed her of her sight, disintegrating her mangled body and obliterating all traces of what was once her community. She was the first of her kind. Now, she was the last. Now, her kind was no more. ‐----‐---------------------------------------------------------------- "Ma'am, the test results are back. The radiation therapy worked. You're officially cancer free."

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago thethingthatwill Time travel exists, but it's more horrifying than you can imagine. Time travel exists. Kind of. Hundreds of years from now, future humans are going to think the form of time travel we have is archaic, akin to a manual typewriter or a telegraph. That’s basically as far as the technology has advanced— with the development of the FUTRMSG system, we can send short text-based messages back in time. The current limits can only send it back 24 hours. But through that miracle we can change our past. Avoid disaster, bypass financial ruin. Cheat death. As long as it fits within the short character limit, you can send yourself any kind of warning or advice, the reality around us automatically accommodates the changes you make. But unless it affects our lives, we can’t even feel or perceive reality changing around us. At first, this messaging system was confined within government headquarters, but once the private FUTRMSG company replicated the technology, this miraculous technology was made available to the public. Kind of. When I say “available to the public”, I don’t really mean the public. The system is exorbitantly, prohibitively expensive. It costs many times more than most families’ annual salary to send even one message. But for some that’s just a drop in the bucket, and our society has splintered even farther into the very very rich and the extremely desolate poor. The rich have infinite re-do buttons they can push to create perfect, error-free lives. And the rest of us suffer in the dirt. I’ve obsessively imagined changing my past, avoiding the spectacular misfortunes I’ve had. I once dreamed that I sent a message to my past self, telling my husband not to get on the bus the day a crash ripped his body to shreds. But as the dream started to melt away, I woke up to my filthy, tiny home, with my young son Luke tugging at my sleeve about how hungry he was. Sobbing. My heart breaks for him. Luke is all I have left. The reality is that when my husband died, I spent the 24 hours after the accident frantically begging for money on the streets, among the teeming crowds of unfortunates pleading for help. My city is a sea of poverty and purgatory for the dead, waiting in limbo to be resuscitated by a message from the future. But they almost always stay dead. Tonight there was a knock at my door, and a small, glowing capsule was delivered. A message. From FUTRMSG. What? How could a version of me 24 hours in the future possibly afford this? What could this be, how could it be more dire than my husband’s death? I press my thumb into the white orb as it scans my thumbprint and… Oh m. The color drains from my face as I read the message. I start shaking. How could I have possibly sent this? What… what happens? I read the words again and again and yet they still say: KILL LUKE RIGHT NOW I BEG YOU

They said I wouldn't last 5 minutes in the old haunted house. And yet, here I am still 130 years later.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago MichaelDj54 "Don't come to school tomorrow." That was the last text my friend sent the night before the shooting. It wasn’t all that surprising, to be totally honest. David, my friend, had a real rough time the past year and a half. Everything just sort of…fell apart around him. His sister ran away from home and wound up murdered about a month later, chopped to pieces in the woods. Pretty soon after that, his mom committed suicide out of grief. Found her hanging in the bedroom, her face swollen and purple from the rope wrapping around her neck. Dad went down a dark path himself. Drugs, but the same effect all the same. What once was a hard working man was a shell of his former self. He never left their home, and became violent and unstable in the past six months following up on this. Poor David didn’t know how to cope, combined with the fact that he was bullied at school, all the way back in the third grade. It was unending torment, and it seemed life went out of his way to get worse. I tried to be a friend to him. I tried to be his shoulder to cry on, to be the person he could talk to, come out to. But I guess in the end, it didn’t matter. Every attempt I made, no matter how pleading it was and desperate, how much I wanted to help him. I suppose, in the long run, there were things I could have done. I could have told someone about the text, but I didn’t. I could have told someone about the gun I found in his drawer, but I didn’t. I could have resisted the urge to grab his sister while she was walking home, knocked her out and took my sweet time killing her, but I didn’t. I could have resisted the urge to break into their house and strangle his mother, but I didn’t. I could have resisted the urge to offer his dad drugs to cope with the pain, but I didn’t. I could have stood up for him all the times he’d been punched, kicked, stuffed into lockers and threatened for far worse, but I didn’t. Or rather, I didn’t want to. There’s a reason for all of this, I assure you. A look into human psyche, a chance to see how the brain ticks. Just a little question…how much grief must a man suffer before he breaks? As I watched the news reports the next morning, of my friends shooting and inevitable suicide, I began to wonder… It takes a bit to break a person… But how MUCH can they break? I look at my phone and pull up my next best friend, Alex. New baby brother, and his dog was getting on in years. Could be any day now. Let’s just find out.

Go to Reddit Answers Expand search Expand user menu Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago therealkurumi2 Book Club Rod offered to take the wooden chair at the end of the coffee table, but Victoria grinned and patted the couch cushion beside her. "I saved you a seat. I don't bite, I promise." Rod returned the smile and sat down. Next to Victoria felt like the best seat and the worst seat in the room. Every Thursday, he met with three of his wife's friends (now his friends too) for a small book club. They'd been reading Love Out of Reach, which introduced the term Limerence. Much more than a fancy word for "crush", limerence could consume you, and stick around for years. Victoria had a beauty (inner and outer) that had ambushed him, and he feared this limerence was just getting started. Never mind all four of them were in happy marriages. He had to remind himself not to gaze at the way her eyes lit up when you understood her point; or those few gray strands in her river of dark brown hair; or the way she made whoever she was talking to feel like the most important person in the world. The smart thing might have been to politely bow out of Book Club. But he loved to read, and he got along so well with the group; who would believe any excuse he might conjure up? The truth was, he looked forward to Victoria time each week. Being in the same room with her was a natural high. He hoped that would remain enough. Anything more was out of the question. Love Out of Reach, indeed. His therapist recommended a woman not in his network, by the name of Delapan. A psychic, he said, but don't be put off; she might have a talisman that can help you. Mrs. Delapan gave him a single sheet of tan parchment: magic paper. Write a story on it ("keep it short", she'd said; "under 500 words"), read it aloud to another, and it will come true. "Do be mindful of recursion," she'd said. Stuff that happens over and over again? He was familiar with that. Rod agonized for days over what he genuinely wanted to come true; then spent several more days furtively working on drafts before he was ready to commit ink to paper. But now he was ready. He'd told the group he was working on a short story of his own, and would love to get their feedback. Tonight was the night. He saw the surprise in their eyes as he fished the single sheet of parchment out of a folder. His written words seemed different to him somehow, even though he'd rehearsed his read-through several times. No time to worry about that. "This story is called 'Book Club'." He cleared his throat and started to read. "Rod offered to take the wooden chair at the end of the coffee table, but Victoria grinned and patted the couch cushion beside her. 'I saved you a seat. I don't bite, I promise..."

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 9 days ago ForgottenWell If I'm not back by sunset When the last sliver of sunlight vanished over the horizon, I walked down into the basement and flipped the switch. Instantly, “The Machine” turned on and began 3D printing a perfect replica of my husband, Hugh. After a minute, New Hugh took his first, gasping breath. “Didn’t make it back in time?” Hugh asked, slicking back his jet-black hair. “Ffraid not, Hugh,” I smiled, taking in the view before tossing him a pair of shorts. “Do we have any whiskey left?” “Plenty.” Hugh wandered upstairs to rinse off, and I went to the kitchen to prepare some rations and pour us both a double shot of whiskey. “Do anything fun today?” Hugh asked, downing his drink in one gulp. “Cleaning mostly,” I said, following his lead. “Got any fun plans for tonight?” “I can think of a few.” I poured us another drink and Hugh put on some music, Frank Sinatra’s Greatest Hits. I’m not the biggest fan, but it really gets Hugh in the mood. After a couple songs, Hugh pulled me in close and kissed me like it was our first time (for him it was). We danced, drank, and laughed so loud we couldn’t hear the shrieks of the corpses outside our compound. I woke up hungover, but Hugh was already in the gym working up a sweat. I made rations for breakfast, and we tended to the garden, but noon was quickly approaching. Hugh gathered his equipment and prepared to leave. He had to go into the city to look for essential supplies to add to our stores. I walked him down to the gate, and he turned around and kissed me on my forehead. “Remember,” he said, “if I’m not back by sunset?” “Flip the switch.” He walked through the gate, I locked it behind him, and he ventured into the undead city. I spent most of the afternoon cleaning up our mess from the night before, but as it got closer to sunset, I went up to our deck to watch the front gate. It wasn’t long before I heard screaming. “Open the gate!” Hugh was yelling for me, but I just leaned on the railing and watched. Hugh was running towards the gate as fast as he could, and he was being followed by a horde of zombies. Every corpse was a previous copy of Hugh. “I don’t wanna die!” Hugh cried. He slammed into the gate, shaking the bars, and I laughed as the horde ripped him to shreds. I love my husband, but every time he goes out for supplies he comes back a little more broken. Eventually, he cracks and starts taking it out on me. I got tired of watching him fall apart over and over again. I decided I much prefer him when he’s fresh. After the horde wandered away, and the sun vanished over the horizon, I walked down to the basement and flipped the switch. “Didn’t make it back in time?” “Ffraid not, Hugh,” I smiled.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Jgrupe Death by Deja Vu Have you ever remembered a dream hours after waking up? Something triggers a memory of it and you struggle to recall the details which are hazy. With an effort you can piece together bits of it, but never the whole thing. This happens to me from time to time. I’ll have a dream and then instantly forget it upon waking. But then sometime during the day, it comes back to me. That happened to me today. Just now, in fact. The same as in my dream, I see a figure approaching in the darkness. I’m standing in this alley waiting for a friend and feeling alone and way too vulnerable here by myself. I wonder if it’s him coming towards me, and I get déjà vu. His gait is different, it doesn’t look like Sam. But in the darkness I can’t tell. Who else would be out at this hour in the rain? In the middle of the night. The city so full of people seeming empty and desolate. I see something glint and shimmer in his hand and can make out the silhouette of the knife he is holding. The switchblade he always carries with him. Why would Sam be carrying it in his hand like that? I can’t help wonder to myself. “Sam?” His voice calls back, raspy and hurt-sounding, but it’s his. I can tell that it is him, and that fills me with a wave of relief. “Help…” Stumbling towards me, I see something else behind him. The creature looks like nothing I have ever seen before, except that now that I think of it I did see it before, in my dream the night prior. If I had to compare it to anything it would be an octopus, except that it walks upright like a person. It has dozens of tentacles, long and thin, and uses some of them to ambulate, others flailing around and sensing the nearby environment. Its eyes are red and glow in the darkness. I see as it gets closer that its skin is blue and alien. More of the tentacles are wrapped around my friend, poking into the skin of Sam’s head, and now I realize why his movements appear so jerky and puppet-like. He is being controlled by the creature. Thunder crashes in the sky and for a horrible moment it illuminates more of its terrifying face. Its beak with sharp, tiny teeth stretched up at the corners in a smile. “Warn them!” Sam yells at me as he plunges the knife into my heart. I wake up in bed. It had seemed so real, but suddenly the memory of it is fading again. Even though it’s late I’ll see if Sam is up. There’s no way I can get back to sleep after that nightmare. What do you know, he’s awake, and said to meet him in the alley behind his building. Standing in the darkness, in the rain, I see a figure approaching. Déjà vu. Jgrupe OP •4y ago To welcome our new psychic octopus overlords, visit r/JGcreepypastas or to join the resistance check out r/thecrypticcompendium

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July 7, 2014 ⁿˢᶠʷ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ • - Yesterday my parents told me I was too old for an imaginary frıend and that I had to let her go… They found her bödy this morning. http://www.reddit.com/user/BitterSimplicity

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UOY GEB I WON THGIR EKUL LLIK :yas llits yeht tey dna niaga dna niaga sdrow eht daer I ?sneppah tahw …tahW ?siht tnes ylbissop evah I dluoc woH .gnikahs trats I .egassem eht daer I sa ecaf ym morf sniard roloc ehT .m hO …dna tnirpbmuht ym snacs ti sa bro etihw eht otni bmuht ym sserp I ?htaed s’dnabsuh ym naht erid erom eb ti dluoc woh ,eb siht dluoc tahW ?siht droffa ylbissop erutuf eht ni sruoh 42 em fo noisrev a dluoc woH ?tahW .GSMRTUF morF .egassem A .dereviled saw eluspac gniwolg ,llams a dna ,rood ym ta kconk a saw ereht thginoT .daed yats syawla tsomla yeht tuB .erutuf eht morf egassem a yb detaticsuser eb ot obmil ni gnitiaw ,daed eht rof yrotagrup dna ytrevop fo aes a si ytic yM .pleh rof gnidaelp setanutrofnu fo sdworc gnimeet eht gnoma ,steerts eht no yenom rof gniggeb yllacitnarf tnedicca eht retfa sruoh 42 eht tneps I ,deid dnabsuh ym nehw taht si ytilaer ehT .tfel evah I lla si ekuL .mih rof skaerb traeh yM .gnibboS .saw eh yrgnuh woh tuoba eveels ym ta gniggut ekuL nos gnuoy ym htiw ,emoh ynit ,yhtlif ym ot pu ekow I ,yawa tlem ot detrats maerd eht sa tuB .sderhs ot ydob sih deppir hsarc a yad eht sub eht no teg ot ton dnabsuh ym gnillet ,fles tsap ym ot egassem a tnes I taht demaerd ecno I .dah ev’I senutrofsim ralucatceps eht gnidiova ,tsap ym gnignahc denigami ylevissesbo ev’I .trid eht ni reffus su fo tser eht dnA .sevil eerf-rorre ,tcefrep etaerc ot hsup nac yeht snottub od-er etinifni evah hcir ehT .roop etalosed ylemertxe eht dna hcir yrev yrev eht otni rehtraf neve deretnilps sah yteicos ruo dna ,tekcub eht ni pord a tsuj s’taht emos rof tuB .egassem eno neve dnes ot yralas launna ’seilimaf tsom naht erom semit ynam stsoc tI .evisnepxe ylevitibihorp ,yltnatibroxe si metsys ehT .cilbup eht naem yllaer t’nod I ,”cilbup eht ot elbaliava“ yas I nehW .fo dniK .cilbup eht ot elbaliava edam saw ygolonhcet suolucarim siht ,ygolonhcet eht detacilper ynapmoc GSMRTUF etavirp eht ecno tub ,sretrauqdaeh tnemnrevog nihtiw denifnoc saw metsys gnigassem siht ,tsrif tA .su dnuora gnignahc ytilaer eviecrep ro leef neve t’nac ew ,sevil ruo stceffa ti sselnu tuB .ekam uoy segnahc eht setadommocca yllacitamotua su dnuora ytilaer eht ,ecivda ro gninraw fo dnik yna flesruoy dnes nac uoy ,timil retcarahc trohs eht nihtiw stif ti sa gnol sA .htaed taehC .niur laicnanif ssapyb ,retsasid diovA .tsap ruo egnahc nac ew elcarim taht hguorht tuB .sruoh 42 kcab ti dnes ylno nac stimil tnerruc ehT .emit ni kcab segassem desab-txet trohs dnes nac ew ,metsys GSMRTUF eht fo tnempoleved eht htiw —decnavda sah ygolonhcet eht sa raf sa yllacisab s’tahT .hpargelet a ro retirwepyt launam a ot nika ,ciahcra si evah ew levart emit fo mrof eht kniht ot gniog era snamuh erutuf ,won morf sraey fo sderdnuH .fo dniK .stsixe levart emiT .enigami nac uoy naht gniyfirroh erom s'ti tub ,stsixe levart emiT lliwtahtgnihteht oga .ry 8 seirotsyracstrohs/r seirotsyracstrohs ot oG

r/TwoSentenceHorror 7 mo. ago aremissing The little girl knew her parents were lying when they told her that the monster she kept seeing wasn't real. She couldn't think of anything else the doctor could have been talking about when she'd overheard him fearfully telling her parents, "it's back, and it's in her brain."

.tuo dnif tsuj s’teL .won yad yna eb dluoC .sraey ni no gnitteg saw god sih dna ,rehtorb ybab weN .xelA ,dneirf tseb txen ym pu llup dna enohp ym ta kool I ?kaerb yeht nac HCUM woh tuB …nosrep a kaerb ot tib a sekat tI …rednow ot nageb I ,edicius elbativeni dna gnitoohs sdneirf ym fo ,gninrom txen eht stroper swen eht dehctaw I sA ?skaerb eh erofeb reffus nam a tsum feirg hcum woh…noitseuq elttil a tsuJ .skcit niarb eht woh ees ot ecnahc a ,ehcysp namuh otni kool A .uoy erussa I ,siht fo lla rof nosaer a s’erehT .ot tnaw t’ndid I ,rehtar rO .t’ndid I tub ,esrow raf rof denetaerht dna srekcol otni deffuts ,dekcik ,dehcnup neeb d’eh semit eht lla mih rof pu doots evah dluoc I .t’ndid I tub ,niap eht htiw epoc ot sgurd dad sih reffo ot egru eht detsiser evah dluoc I .t’ndid I tub ,rehtom sih elgnarts dna esuoh rieht otni kaerb ot egru eht detsiser evah dluoc I .t’ndid I tub ,reh gnillik emit teews ym koot dna tuo reh dekconk ,emoh gniklaw saw ehs elihw retsis sih barg ot egru eht detsiser evah dluoc I .t’ndid I tub ,reward sih ni dnuof I nug eht tuoba enoemos dlot evah dluoc I .t’ndid I tub ,txet eht tuoba enoemos dlot evah dluoc I .enod evah dluoc I sgniht erew ereht ,nur gnol eht ni ,esoppus I .mih pleh ot detnaw I hcum woh ,etarepsed dna saw ti gnidaelp woh rettam on ,edam I tpmetta yrevE .rettam t’ndid ti ,dne eht ni sseug I tuB .ot tuo emoc ,ot klat dluoc eh nosrep eht eb ot ,no yrc ot redluohs sih eb ot deirt I .mih ot dneirf a eb ot deirt I .esrow teg ot yaw sih fo tuo tnew efil demees ti dna ,tnemrot gnidnenu saw tI .edarg driht eht ni kcab yaw eht lla ,loohcs ta deillub saw eh taht tcaf eht htiw denibmoc ,epoc ot woh wonk t’ndid divaD rooP .siht no pu gniwollof shtnom xis tsap eht ni elbatsnu dna tneloiv emaceb dna ,emoh rieht tfel reven eH .fles remrof sih fo llehs a saw nam gnikrow drah a saw ecno tahW .emas eht lla tceffe emas eht tub ,sgurD .flesmih htap krad a nwod tnew daD .kcen reh dnuora gnipparw epor eht morf elprup dna nellows ecaf reh ,moordeb eht ni gnignah reh dnuoF .feirg fo tuo edicius dettimmoc mom sih ,taht retfa noos ytterP .sdoow eht ni seceip ot deppohc ,retal htnom a tuoba deredrum pu dnuow dna emoh morf yawa nar retsis siH .mih dnuora trapa llef…fo tros tsuj gnihtyrevE .flah a dna raey tsap eht emit hguor laer a dah ,dneirf ym ,divaD .tsenoh yllatot eb ot ,gnisirprus taht lla t’nsaw tI .gnitoohs eht erofeb thgin eht tnes dneirf ym txet tsal eht saw tahT ".worromot loohcs ot emoc t'noD" 45jDleahciM oga .ry 9 seirotsyracstrohs/r seirotsyracstrohs ot oG

r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago Feeling_Sky_7775 Today the popular girl befriended the weirdo Layla was the most popular girl at school. The girls idolized her, and the boys lusted after her. She sat with Arnold in algebra, but she strongly preferred not to. Arnold was “weird.” He was socially inept, smelled a bit funny, and would always read manga comics during study. Layla would occasionally strike conversation with him, but would soon regret when met with uncomfortable silence and awkward tension. Behind his back, Layla would mock him around her friends. She wasn’t sure why, probably because it made her feel superior. In turn, her friends would taunt him to his face. They’d do anything to impress her. She felt bad for enabling their behavior, but she got a thrill knowing they would follow her every move. It’ll toughen him up, she would tell herself. But, Layla decided today was different. Today, she wanted to be nice to Arnold. “Hi Arnold, how are you today?” “Hey Layla, I am okay.” A prolonged silence ensued. “Whatcha got there?” “Oh, it’s uh, nothing, it’s just uh some dumb comic book.” “I don’t think it’s dumb, let me see!” She feigned interest as she flipped through the pages. “This is cool! You should show me more after school sometime.” He shuffled around, turning red, visibly uncomfortable. “Um, yeah that would be cool.” She blinked flirtatiously. “Well maybe we could go on a date sometime, and you could show me then.” He let out a nervous laugh and nodded. Turning back to his desk, Layla could see him hiding his goofy smile. Today, Layla wanted to be nice to Arnold. Today, she wanted Arnold to like her. She hoped that Arnold would want to see her again. Because in class today, Layla caught a glimpse of the gun hiding in Arnold’s bag. Upvote 3.1K Downvote

September 20th, 2015, 4:55 PM I thought my cat had a staring problem, because my cat would always stare at me. After years and years, I figured out it was staring just behınd me.

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Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago writingisfunbutusuck Every patient I saw that day told me they’d had a premonition of my imminent death. Well that’s never something you love to hear, I thought to myself as my first patient of the day left my office. With all of the drama going on with my wife, the pending divorce and everything…well, work had been an escape for me recently. I wanted it to stay that way. Normally, therapy is supposed to be more about the patient than the therapist. And, to be fair, that had been the case for most of the appointment with Ana. However, I couldn’t help focus on a part that pertained to me. “I had a dream yesterday that you would die in your sleep tonight,” she had said to me with all the tact of an order placed in a drive-thru. Yes, I’ll have a number one combo. Medium, please. Also, by the way, I had a premonition you’ll die tonight. Oh what the heck, better make it a large, actually. I laughed a little grimly to myself and then opened the notes on my next patient. Twenty minutes later, I looked up from my notepad in surprise. “That’s odd,” I began. “That’s not the first thing I’ve heard like that today.” My next patient laughed a little self-consciously. “I know dreams don’t mean anything, I just felt like I had to tell you. I’m not sure why.” I tried to keep the focus on him, hiding my uneasiness as well as I could. “I wonder if this dream you had about me dying in my sleep speaks to an underlying anxiety you may have? A worry about your health, perhaps?” “I don’t think so,” my patient replied. “It just felt so specific to you.” I opened the door to my office to welcome in my third patient of the day, an elderly woman I’d been seeing for years. I flinched as she moved to the door faster than I ever would’ve thought possible for someone of her age. “Is everything okay, Martha?” I asked her. She put her hands on my forearms as if she wanted to hug me. “Oh, you’re alright!” She said, relief flooding her face. “I had the worst dream about you, and it felt so…..real.” I looked at her, silently pleading with her not to say it. “It’s so morbid but….I saw you die in your sleep.” I arrived home late that night, not looking forward to the usual knock-down-drag-out fight with my wife. She’ll be your EX wife soon enough, I reminded myself. I had nothing to worry about, though. She was in a bizarrely jovial mood. “I’m sorry you had such a rough day,” she said, and she seemingly meant it. It was…bizarre, to say the least. This was the woman who had professed her profound hatred for me everyday for the last six months, after all. “I know what’ll help,” she said. “You go run a hot bath, and I’ll pour you a glass of red wine. “Good enough to Die for..”

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