• Creepypastas

    Impasse

    “What exactly do you dream?” The psychologist spoke without emotion, as was his customary manner, always calm, always placid. His office was placid. His life was placid. “What do you think?” She tried to get comfortable, but it was no use. There was no comfort to be found in his…

  • Creepypastas

    It’s a Small World

    Sylvia locked the bathroom door, but didn’t know why she bothered. She plopped down on the closed commode lid and listened to the rush of two voices outside, “I didn’t know she’d come home,” her husband apologized. “Well, you better next time,” the feminine voice returned. She couldn’t cry; it…

  • Creepypastas

    The White House

    She had made it forty-three years, six months and fifteen days. Hope still eluded her. She emptied another bedpan into the dilapidated toilet and returned it to its owner. How the hell did she end up here? She’d recently concluded that it would never change. She’d started as a CNA…

  • Creepypastas

    The Refrigerator People

    I never liked Bob. I liked him even less when I found out about him. He moved down the street last year. We assumed he was just your average Joe Lunchbucket, and from all appearances he was. He worked at the bank, like several other people on our street. His…

  • Creepypastas

    Let’s Do Lunch

    Belinda Davenport contacted me on social media two months ago. We were best friends in high school, but went onto different colleges in differing states. We lost contact. I loved thoughts of catching up. So, I met Belinda for lunch at a trendy bistro on First and Main. She said…