So I thought it would be cool to see the creativity that may go into many people's writings...mainly thrillers! Share a spooky story here if you dare- it can be fictional or non-fictional, and maybe even a creepypasta!(Can be original or reshared, But don't repost the same thing a million times. That makes it more bland for everyone else).
RULES!
I'll go first to pose an example.
Take caution with this story!
The following contains:
Please avoid this story if you are not okay with it.
This is my first "creepypasta"! If you are unaware of these stories, they are basically creepy or scary stories written and shared online to thrill readers. These stories can be based off of popular characters, games, shows or theories, or can be original in themselves. I tried my best to make a kids drawing and I think what I have is the best I can do...artist stuff, am I right?
(>//u\\< )
This is an original story of mine(god I hope), personifying a bundle of negative diagnoses into a single creature. This creature is actually an "imaginary" friend that belonged to a little girl named Stella, who reportedly committed suicide in 2018 at the age of 13: 4 years after countless people had entered her home and quote on quote, "never came back out". Now in 2020, a 14 year-old boy who had been dared to go into the same house, which is now abandoned and condemned, discovered three fully intact papers, while the rest was in shreds. He decided to look these papers over himself when he brought them home, but he might've brought something else along with him...
"My Closest Friend"
"...But tonight, you belong to me-"
Click. 'Enough of that song, its so annoying now...' I thought. This 1920's song had become a trend since it was reintroduced, and its flooded all of the music apps on the stores and internet. I rubbed my head from a massive migraine when I heard knocking at the front door to my house. 'Can't I be left alone?' I thought to myself as I put on some pajamas and went down stairs. There stood my two friends, Max and Chris, beyond the comfort of my home, bright smiles on their faces. "Heya Bret! You up for a little man time?" Max said to me. I thought for a moment, thinking about how a little sunshine might ease my migraine. "Sure", I said and headed up the stairs to my room to get changed. I came back a few minutes later and we were off like that. See, Max and Chris are the only people who consider me normal in my school. I'm a 14 year-old boy in highschool like Max and Chris, but am noticeably avoided because of my interest in the messed up topics discussed in and out of school and my frequent migraines. I've earned the nickname, "Bretopath", which is a more barely covered way of calling me a psychopath. Max and Chris were the only two people to think not of such a term, and see me for my good traits rather than listen to rumors and stories. We rode our bikes around the neighborhood, and then started heading to a new, rather empty route to somewhere different. "Where are we headed?" I asked with uncertainty. Chris spoke up. "We found an abandoned house and thought you might find interest!" He yelled over the sound of crushed leaves and twigs. We went from forest to road, where a more ghosted neighborhood stand for only a mile. Houses were lined like cargo, only inches away from being attached to each other. I noticed my migraine had faded away along the bike ride. I got a cold feeling that caused me to shudder slightly when we came up to a house that said 'CONDEMNED' on the front door in spray paint. "Nobody's come to destroy this place for a year now. I thought we could look at it!" Max said. Something didn't sound right. "I feel there's more to that", I simply blurted, making the two grin. One of them pulled out a single $100 bill. The other pulled out two $50's. "Two hundred bucks. I dare you to go in there, explore the place and come back out. We'll hold true, promise!" Chris said as he waved his two bills. I looked at the two, holding out a hand. "Knife?" I asked, watching Max put a switch blade into my hand. "Safety first", he said with a nod. With that I stepped up to the door of the house, the old wood creaking beneath my feet and the door opening with a long, loud squeak. "It's unlocked..." I whispered to myself with uncertainty before flinching at the voice behind me. "We messed the lock and got it open for you!" One of the boys said behind me, waving a locket pick in the air with a cheeky smile. I sighed and rolled my eyes, now entering the worn shelter and using the light on my phone due to the lack of light in general. Switch blade in one hand and phone in the other, I went deeper and deeper into the seemingly endless home. Everywhere I saw dusty furniture and broken glass, a few bugs scurrying away on the floor making me slightly anxious. "Damn roaches", I hissed to myself as I enter what looked to be a kitchen, pieces of tattered cloth and torn paper covering the flooring in front of the stove and fridge. One piece that was still intact seemed pretty creepy. 'A drawing', I thought as I took a closer look.

I shuddered at the picture, depicting this to be the same house as the one in which a girl had committed suicide in two years ago. Hesitating, I carefully took the picture off of the fridge, folding it up and putting it away before continuing on to a door. On the side" of the door was a sign that looked more foreign. "אָפיס" was printed on the wooden slab, which I had to use an online translator to find out what it said. "Office", was what it translated to from Yiddish. I opened the door carefully, coughing from the dust that flew into my face. I enter the dusty room, seeing the screen of a now older computer shattered and destroyed. Papers and office supplies were scattered everywhere, mostly torn to shreds and bend out of place. I walked up to the desk, seeing but a small post-it note with English on it. It looked old, but well intact. I read it aloud: "Victim, victim, come to thee. Victim, victim, what do you see...What?--"
I jumped when I heard a clicking sound from my side. One of the drawers of the desk seemed to have unlocked and opened itself up, a small peak of white showing on the bottom of it. I looked at it and to my surprise, there was fresh white paper within it, imprinted with pencil. There was one normal sized, and one small and rectangular. Both had the same creature on them as the first drawing I found.
"Omi, huh?" I whispered to myself, confirming this to be the same house from the suicide incident. I put those drawings away in my pocket as well, exiting the office before whipping out my knife at the sight of something other than a bug. It was blurred, but I saw enough of a stick-thin, smoky gray, bug and human-like creature retreat to another room not far from the living room in the back. I decided there that it was time to get out, scrambling to the front and and almost falling from the steps out to the safe outdoors. Oh, how it felt safer than dangerous at this moment! I was panting, my attention going to Max as he pointed out something on my leg. "Dude, that's a nasty scratch you have", he said as he handed me his $100 bill and then examined the scratch, which seemed more as a shallow gash than such on my calf. "That's nasty...how did I not notice that?" I asked as I was handed two $50's from Chris. "You need to have that checked out dude", the said boy told me with worry. I shook my head. "No way in hell am I risking being grounded for going into an old creepy house! Are you crazy?!" I snapped, slight fear in my eyes. We agreed for the "scratch" to be from a bike crash, getting it patched up. Undoubtedly, it wasn't long before I began to feel more sleepy and out of it. I'd been losing my appetite and my will to do anything with anyone, becoming more paranoid as I saw the blade-legged creature follow me around in the shadows of the trees. I saw I therapist after losing an unhealthy amount of weight and thinking upon harm. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression that day. Night after night I saw it. I couldn't sleep for a second without thinking of a blade. I felt guilty since I'd apparently worried my friends. Wait...they're my friends? I'd forgotten I had any since I'd avoided Max and Chris, who finally began shaking me out of my trance-like state in class. "Oy, Bret! Snap out of it man, you're scaring me..."
I shook my head and waved it off, the bags under my eyes all too visible along with my clouded mood. "Yeah, I'm fine", I said, running my forehead as a migraine struck me right at that moment. "Migraine..." my sleeve rolled down slightly, showing a little of a red line-like scab before I straightened it back out right away. The two hesitated before heading back to their seats, the bell ringing 30 minutes later for dismissal. Max and Chris caught up with me. "Bret, what's been going on with you lately? You're more depressed than happy now", Chris stated, and I rolled my eyes slightly. "Look, I'm fine-"
"You're not fine, man! I saw the cut on your arm, so stop hiding it! We're your friends, and we actually worry about you unlike the others. Please tell us what's going on already!" Max interrupted, his voice cracking slightly. I stood there, sitting down on the cold hard ground and the two joining me. I smiled, unaware that I was holding back tears. "I made a new friend", I said, a small tear rolling down my cheek. The two listened in, sympathy written in their expressions. "Who is this new friend?" Max asked quietly. I took out the piece of paper with the full picture of the creature from the house. "It's name is Omi. It gets me so well", I said with slight laughter. The two boys looked disgusted. It looked like they were thinking of how they'd screwed up, sending me into that house. Oh, how they were to blame...such wonderful friends to have. Later on that night, I lay in my bed, all but my lamp light off within my room as I gaze at the sketches of the creature occupying my corrupt mind. It was then that I saw the same creature pass through my door and tower over my weakened figure. I could feel myself smiling, hearing a deep, scraggly voice transmit to my head. "You remind me of Stella. Such a sweet, sad human", it said. I opened my arms in hopes of a hug, seeing the front blade-like limbs bend and straighten as it took me in. That song played on my radio at that moment. "...But tonight, you belong to me..." It seemed so comforting...so warm and safe! I couldn't hold back my quiet sobs and desperation for that same comfort. Tears streamed down my cheeks, only a few seconds passing with searing pain before I blacked out. The next time I woke up, I was in an ambulance strapped down on one of those medical carts. I looked down and saw blood on my stomach, spilling from bandages. I'd attempted suicide, hadn't I..? I passed out again, waking up in a bonded jacket within a padded cell. 'Where am I?' I thought, looking down and around to see only yellow and gray. Just then, an invisible door opened. "Who are you...pretty lady?" I asked slowly, seeing a woman dressed as a nurse enter with a tray of food and a pill. "I'm your nurse, Bret. I've come with food, so please eat it along with your pill. You need to regain the weight you've lost", she explained. Her voice was so soft and soothing, it melted like butter in the air. She sat down next to me, picking up a spoon and the bowl on the tray. She raised it up to my mouth. "Open wide now", she said with a warm smile. I couldn't help but to obey, feeling the slimy texture and bland taste fill my cavern. "So bland..." I whined. She chuckled lightly, making me smile. "I know, but it will take awhile before you can eat real food again". She responded, raising a pill and putting it in the spoon with a bite of soup. She left after a few minutes, leaving me to sit and dwell on my thoughts. I was never informed of how popular I was in this very moment, my story all over the news and the 2018 incident flaring back up again with more conspiracy theories and supernatural phenomenons on the rise with the "Omi" creature. That trendy song was taken off of the radio from the fear of influence on other people. Yet I remain behind padded walls, deprived of my freedom to the true world... but never my closest friend, who always visited me and told me about Stella and how I was like her. He was especially "happy" about the fact that I had been miraculously saved from death, saying that he'd finally had a new friend to play with. Nobody could explain why I had continuous bruises around my body, not even me. All I knew was that I was calling myself the mighty Bretopath. I don't remember any other day than before my attempt at suicide when I ever saw the sun again. I couldn't outrun my migraines, but I could always play with my closest friend...Omi.
[End Story]
RULES!
- If you don't like scary stories, avoid this forum.
- Don't be afraid to put in pics if they're included! It adds to some of the visuals to the story.
- If there are some things you feel may need to be warned of, please put the warnings/notices before the story.
- Don't be put down other people's writings or the people themselves. It is rude and disrespectful.
- Have fun!
I'll go first to pose an example.
Take caution with this story!
The following contains:
- Content that readers may find disturbing
- Profanity
- Some types of harm, including attempted suicide
Please avoid this story if you are not okay with it.
This is my first "creepypasta"! If you are unaware of these stories, they are basically creepy or scary stories written and shared online to thrill readers. These stories can be based off of popular characters, games, shows or theories, or can be original in themselves. I tried my best to make a kids drawing and I think what I have is the best I can do...artist stuff, am I right?
(>//u\\< )
This is an original story of mine(god I hope), personifying a bundle of negative diagnoses into a single creature. This creature is actually an "imaginary" friend that belonged to a little girl named Stella, who reportedly committed suicide in 2018 at the age of 13: 4 years after countless people had entered her home and quote on quote, "never came back out". Now in 2020, a 14 year-old boy who had been dared to go into the same house, which is now abandoned and condemned, discovered three fully intact papers, while the rest was in shreds. He decided to look these papers over himself when he brought them home, but he might've brought something else along with him...
"My Closest Friend"
"...But tonight, you belong to me-"
Click. 'Enough of that song, its so annoying now...' I thought. This 1920's song had become a trend since it was reintroduced, and its flooded all of the music apps on the stores and internet. I rubbed my head from a massive migraine when I heard knocking at the front door to my house. 'Can't I be left alone?' I thought to myself as I put on some pajamas and went down stairs. There stood my two friends, Max and Chris, beyond the comfort of my home, bright smiles on their faces. "Heya Bret! You up for a little man time?" Max said to me. I thought for a moment, thinking about how a little sunshine might ease my migraine. "Sure", I said and headed up the stairs to my room to get changed. I came back a few minutes later and we were off like that. See, Max and Chris are the only people who consider me normal in my school. I'm a 14 year-old boy in highschool like Max and Chris, but am noticeably avoided because of my interest in the messed up topics discussed in and out of school and my frequent migraines. I've earned the nickname, "Bretopath", which is a more barely covered way of calling me a psychopath. Max and Chris were the only two people to think not of such a term, and see me for my good traits rather than listen to rumors and stories. We rode our bikes around the neighborhood, and then started heading to a new, rather empty route to somewhere different. "Where are we headed?" I asked with uncertainty. Chris spoke up. "We found an abandoned house and thought you might find interest!" He yelled over the sound of crushed leaves and twigs. We went from forest to road, where a more ghosted neighborhood stand for only a mile. Houses were lined like cargo, only inches away from being attached to each other. I noticed my migraine had faded away along the bike ride. I got a cold feeling that caused me to shudder slightly when we came up to a house that said 'CONDEMNED' on the front door in spray paint. "Nobody's come to destroy this place for a year now. I thought we could look at it!" Max said. Something didn't sound right. "I feel there's more to that", I simply blurted, making the two grin. One of them pulled out a single $100 bill. The other pulled out two $50's. "Two hundred bucks. I dare you to go in there, explore the place and come back out. We'll hold true, promise!" Chris said as he waved his two bills. I looked at the two, holding out a hand. "Knife?" I asked, watching Max put a switch blade into my hand. "Safety first", he said with a nod. With that I stepped up to the door of the house, the old wood creaking beneath my feet and the door opening with a long, loud squeak. "It's unlocked..." I whispered to myself with uncertainty before flinching at the voice behind me. "We messed the lock and got it open for you!" One of the boys said behind me, waving a locket pick in the air with a cheeky smile. I sighed and rolled my eyes, now entering the worn shelter and using the light on my phone due to the lack of light in general. Switch blade in one hand and phone in the other, I went deeper and deeper into the seemingly endless home. Everywhere I saw dusty furniture and broken glass, a few bugs scurrying away on the floor making me slightly anxious. "Damn roaches", I hissed to myself as I enter what looked to be a kitchen, pieces of tattered cloth and torn paper covering the flooring in front of the stove and fridge. One piece that was still intact seemed pretty creepy. 'A drawing', I thought as I took a closer look.

I shuddered at the picture, depicting this to be the same house as the one in which a girl had committed suicide in two years ago. Hesitating, I carefully took the picture off of the fridge, folding it up and putting it away before continuing on to a door. On the side" of the door was a sign that looked more foreign. "אָפיס" was printed on the wooden slab, which I had to use an online translator to find out what it said. "Office", was what it translated to from Yiddish. I opened the door carefully, coughing from the dust that flew into my face. I enter the dusty room, seeing the screen of a now older computer shattered and destroyed. Papers and office supplies were scattered everywhere, mostly torn to shreds and bend out of place. I walked up to the desk, seeing but a small post-it note with English on it. It looked old, but well intact. I read it aloud: "Victim, victim, come to thee. Victim, victim, what do you see...What?--"
I jumped when I heard a clicking sound from my side. One of the drawers of the desk seemed to have unlocked and opened itself up, a small peak of white showing on the bottom of it. I looked at it and to my surprise, there was fresh white paper within it, imprinted with pencil. There was one normal sized, and one small and rectangular. Both had the same creature on them as the first drawing I found.

"Omi, huh?" I whispered to myself, confirming this to be the same house from the suicide incident. I put those drawings away in my pocket as well, exiting the office before whipping out my knife at the sight of something other than a bug. It was blurred, but I saw enough of a stick-thin, smoky gray, bug and human-like creature retreat to another room not far from the living room in the back. I decided there that it was time to get out, scrambling to the front and and almost falling from the steps out to the safe outdoors. Oh, how it felt safer than dangerous at this moment! I was panting, my attention going to Max as he pointed out something on my leg. "Dude, that's a nasty scratch you have", he said as he handed me his $100 bill and then examined the scratch, which seemed more as a shallow gash than such on my calf. "That's nasty...how did I not notice that?" I asked as I was handed two $50's from Chris. "You need to have that checked out dude", the said boy told me with worry. I shook my head. "No way in hell am I risking being grounded for going into an old creepy house! Are you crazy?!" I snapped, slight fear in my eyes. We agreed for the "scratch" to be from a bike crash, getting it patched up. Undoubtedly, it wasn't long before I began to feel more sleepy and out of it. I'd been losing my appetite and my will to do anything with anyone, becoming more paranoid as I saw the blade-legged creature follow me around in the shadows of the trees. I saw I therapist after losing an unhealthy amount of weight and thinking upon harm. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression that day. Night after night I saw it. I couldn't sleep for a second without thinking of a blade. I felt guilty since I'd apparently worried my friends. Wait...they're my friends? I'd forgotten I had any since I'd avoided Max and Chris, who finally began shaking me out of my trance-like state in class. "Oy, Bret! Snap out of it man, you're scaring me..."
I shook my head and waved it off, the bags under my eyes all too visible along with my clouded mood. "Yeah, I'm fine", I said, running my forehead as a migraine struck me right at that moment. "Migraine..." my sleeve rolled down slightly, showing a little of a red line-like scab before I straightened it back out right away. The two hesitated before heading back to their seats, the bell ringing 30 minutes later for dismissal. Max and Chris caught up with me. "Bret, what's been going on with you lately? You're more depressed than happy now", Chris stated, and I rolled my eyes slightly. "Look, I'm fine-"
"You're not fine, man! I saw the cut on your arm, so stop hiding it! We're your friends, and we actually worry about you unlike the others. Please tell us what's going on already!" Max interrupted, his voice cracking slightly. I stood there, sitting down on the cold hard ground and the two joining me. I smiled, unaware that I was holding back tears. "I made a new friend", I said, a small tear rolling down my cheek. The two listened in, sympathy written in their expressions. "Who is this new friend?" Max asked quietly. I took out the piece of paper with the full picture of the creature from the house. "It's name is Omi. It gets me so well", I said with slight laughter. The two boys looked disgusted. It looked like they were thinking of how they'd screwed up, sending me into that house. Oh, how they were to blame...such wonderful friends to have. Later on that night, I lay in my bed, all but my lamp light off within my room as I gaze at the sketches of the creature occupying my corrupt mind. It was then that I saw the same creature pass through my door and tower over my weakened figure. I could feel myself smiling, hearing a deep, scraggly voice transmit to my head. "You remind me of Stella. Such a sweet, sad human", it said. I opened my arms in hopes of a hug, seeing the front blade-like limbs bend and straighten as it took me in. That song played on my radio at that moment. "...But tonight, you belong to me..." It seemed so comforting...so warm and safe! I couldn't hold back my quiet sobs and desperation for that same comfort. Tears streamed down my cheeks, only a few seconds passing with searing pain before I blacked out. The next time I woke up, I was in an ambulance strapped down on one of those medical carts. I looked down and saw blood on my stomach, spilling from bandages. I'd attempted suicide, hadn't I..? I passed out again, waking up in a bonded jacket within a padded cell. 'Where am I?' I thought, looking down and around to see only yellow and gray. Just then, an invisible door opened. "Who are you...pretty lady?" I asked slowly, seeing a woman dressed as a nurse enter with a tray of food and a pill. "I'm your nurse, Bret. I've come with food, so please eat it along with your pill. You need to regain the weight you've lost", she explained. Her voice was so soft and soothing, it melted like butter in the air. She sat down next to me, picking up a spoon and the bowl on the tray. She raised it up to my mouth. "Open wide now", she said with a warm smile. I couldn't help but to obey, feeling the slimy texture and bland taste fill my cavern. "So bland..." I whined. She chuckled lightly, making me smile. "I know, but it will take awhile before you can eat real food again". She responded, raising a pill and putting it in the spoon with a bite of soup. She left after a few minutes, leaving me to sit and dwell on my thoughts. I was never informed of how popular I was in this very moment, my story all over the news and the 2018 incident flaring back up again with more conspiracy theories and supernatural phenomenons on the rise with the "Omi" creature. That trendy song was taken off of the radio from the fear of influence on other people. Yet I remain behind padded walls, deprived of my freedom to the true world... but never my closest friend, who always visited me and told me about Stella and how I was like her. He was especially "happy" about the fact that I had been miraculously saved from death, saying that he'd finally had a new friend to play with. Nobody could explain why I had continuous bruises around my body, not even me. All I knew was that I was calling myself the mighty Bretopath. I don't remember any other day than before my attempt at suicide when I ever saw the sun again. I couldn't outrun my migraines, but I could always play with my closest friend...Omi.
[End Story]
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