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Scary Stories and Creepy Pasta, Ballard Street, Los Angeles, CA (2026)

07/24/2024

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04/21/2024

Deeper Darkness:

There is a moment each leap year, at exactly three minutes past three on the morning of February twenty-ninth. If you possess the courage, await that moment in darkened room, with no other present. At that moment, the darkness will deepen. If you were to hold you hand directly before your face, you would not see a thing. But you must not do so. No, for that would be to waste the moment. Instead you must reach out, into that impenetrable darkness.

And it will reach out to you.

An unseen hand will grasp yours. You must not flinch away, nor tighten your grasp. To do so will only slough away more of the decrepit flesh that covers it, and anger its unseen owner. Remain perfectly still, as the withered fingers move over your palm, tracing unknown patterns. Do not move an inch as it crawls slowly up your arm. And most of all, do not even breathe as it caresses your face, touching what cannot be seen.

Should you remain still through this, the hand will be withdrawn and a voice will speak, so close you can feel its breath on your face, smell the scent of decay it carries. It will ask you for one simple piece of information: your name. Answer truthfully. Answer truthfully, and the presence will retreat, leaving only a whisper in the air as the darkness lifts. “It is done.”

From that day on, untold good fortune will be yours, and mysterious power. You will lack nothing, and have everything. But in a year, perhaps two, you will feel your skin begin to decay, and smell the sweet smell of death upon your breath…
Scary Stories and Creepy Pasta

04/18/2024

The Old Man is a scary story about a mysterious character who lives in an old, crumbling house by the sea. It is based on an old horror tale by H.P. Lovecraft called “The Terrible Old Man”.

The old man lived all alone in an ancient, crumbling house near the sea. His garden was overgrown and neglected and his house was surrounded by old, gnarled trees.

He was a recluse and rarely ventured out of his home. No one knew his name or where he came from. Those who saw him said he had long black hair, a wrinkled, leathery face and dark, piercing eyes. Sometimes, neighbors would see him hobbling around on a cane.

The old man was rumored to be both extremely rich and extremely feeble. There were rumors that he kept a fortune in gold hidden away somewhere in his dusty abode.

Young boys loved to taunt the old man, shouting at him and calling him names whenever they passed his house. Sometimes they would even throw rocks at his house and break the window panes of his dwelling. Occasionally, some of the older kids would steal up to the house and peer in through the dusty windows just to catch a glimpse of him.

One night, three criminals decided to rob the old man. They parked their car outside his house and sat there in the darkness, waiting until the time was right. Their plan was to threaten the old man and make him tell them where his fortune was hidden. If that didn’t work, then they would beat it out of him.

The moon was shining down on the ancient house and the wind was blowing through the branches of the old, gnarled trees. When the lights in the house went off, two of the criminals got out of the car and made their way up to the front door. They put on black masks to cover their faces and rang the doorbell.

The third criminal sat in the car, waiting nervously for his companions to return. He kept checking his watch and wondering what was taking them so long. Just after midnight, he heard hideous screams coming from inside

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04/17/2024

Earwig:

Excerpt: The Earwig is a scary story about a man who puts a creepy crawly in another man’s ear. It is based on an old episode of the TV series Night Gallery, which in turn is based on an old horror story by Oscar Cook called “Boomerang”.

Many years ago, in Borneo, there was an English man named Clifford Macy who was young, handsome and very vain. He fancied himself as God’s gift to women and often boasted about his success.

Macy was part owner of a to***co plantation and his friend and business partner was another English man by the name of Leopold Warwick. Despite being old and fat, Warwick had a wife who was very young and very beautiful and she was the envy of every man who set eyes on her.

The three of them lived together in a big house on the plantation. Macy slept in the first bedroom, while Warwick and his wife slept in the second.

It was rainy season and there was precious little to do. Macy was bored and he could find nothing that would keep him entertained. As time went on, he developed a passion for Warwick’s wife and began to wish that he could have her for himself.

He tried flirting with her, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with him. One evening, when her husband was away, Macy made a pass at her, but she slapped his face.

However, Macy was the kind of man who didn’t take no for an answer. Every time she rebuffed him, he became more and more obsessed with her until he was determined to have her at any cost.

Although his heart was burning with a white hot passion, Macy had a devilish and cunning mind. He soon came up with a way to get Warwick out of the

In Borneo, there is a type of earwig that lives on waxy secretions. It has a special liking for the human ear. It’s so small and light that it could be crawling on your face and you’d barely even feel it. If it gets into a man’s ear, it creeps down the canal, unable to turn around, feeding as it goes

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04/14/2024

Hello again, my spooky story lovers! 👻 After a long hiatus, I'm excited to be back to share more spine-chilling tales that will send shivers down your spine. Thank you for your patience and continued support. Stay tuned for more spine-tingling content!"
@ Stories and Creepy Pasta

03/26/2024

Thanks for being a top engager and making it on to my weekly engagement list! Youainteventhefart Stopthinkinutheshii, Charmone Schambreel, Yk Damian Mentoor, Andiswa Gämbüçhë, Nikiwe S Mboweni, Abara Sadia Gizau, Cleopetra Cleo Moloi, ۦۦ ۦۦۦۦۦۦۦۦۦۦۦ ۦۦۦۦ ۦۦۦۦۦۦۦۦۦۦ, Nceba Toise Blaauw, Fortune Lum, Koketso Simelane Bonza, Sthokozo Jalubane, Nyameka Nombewu, Abutti Msa Ndrø, Mbali Bobotyana

03/17/2024

Gran’s Box:

It was always a treat for the three Levine children when they got to visit Gran’s house. Gran’s house was big, with plenty of rooms for hide-and-seek, and a pond in the garden filled with fish and frogs. For the Levines, who crammed together in a four-bedroom apartment, Gran’s house was a fairytale castle. It was also a veritable treasure-trove of toys; bags of shiny marbles, ebony dominoes stacked neatly in their boxes, striped hoola-hoops and skipping-ropes, boxes of coloured chalk that the children could use to draw on the flagstones around the pond, teddy-bears in all shapes and sizes, and a plethora of dolls with curly hair and frilly dresses.

Then there was the box.

Some days it was in the front room, proudly displayed on the mantel above the fireplace, other days it was in the dining room, hiding among myriad framed photographs, and other days still it was upstairs in Gran’s bedroom. Sometimes it wasn’t on display at all but just sitting on the floor or halfway up the stairs.

The youngest child, Vivian, once asked, “Why do you always move the box, Gran?”

Something dark flitted across Gran’s face like a storm-cloud blocking out the sun. “I don’t. That box has a mind of its own.”

“You mean it moves by itself?” This wasn’t incomprehensible to a six-year-old.

“The box does what it feels like and I don’t interfere,” Gran said.

Vivian’s sisters were more interested in the dolls. They’d spend hours brushing their hair or rearranging their clothes, but nothing peaked Vivian’s curiosity like that box. She was never allowed to touch it, no matter where it moved itself to. Every time they went round, Vivian would look at the box and wonder. What was its secret? Why wasn’t she allowed to touch it?

Years passed and visits to Gran’s house became less and less frequent. The girls were growing up; they had their own lives to live. When Vivian was twenty-two she moved to the heart of

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03/11/2024

Hell Of A Water Bill:

Alberto Nujas scrambles out of bed, quickly glancing at the clock. It’s two thirty-two in the morning, but when you gotta go, you gotta go. Alberto closes the bathroom door and locks it before doing his business. Even though he’s a 29-year-old bachelor, old habits die hard.

Alberto finishes his business and is about to flush when he feels a strange pang of fear. There’s no reason he should be scared, this is his house, all the doors and windows are locked, he’s utterly alone…there’s no REASON, he tells himself.

He looks slowly to the bathroom door, securely battened down against…well, against nothing, really. Shrugging, he reaches towards the handle when he hears something that makes him stay his hand. A kind of creak. The house settling. The wind blowing against the door. A tree branch rubbing against the side of his house.

A footstep.

Alberto comes to his senses, realizing that he’s been standing with his hand on the toilet handle for five minutes or so. Slowly he withdraws his hand and joins it with its sibling, absentmindedly writhing the two together like lovers. He listens again, but all he can hear is his own heartbeat. Not a breath of wind. He runs to the window, but of course it’s black as pitch.

Alberto groans inwardly at himself, and grabs the toilet handle. “If I’m going to do it, then I’ll just do it, and damn the torpedoes,” he mutters. Flush goes the toilet and Alberto braces himself for…something, but the house remains silent, apprehensive. Alberto laughs aloud to himself at his foolishness.

And hears the noise again.

Alberto’s laugh stops dead, but his mouth still hangs open in surprise. His eyes widen. “Did that sound come from the hallway?” he asks himself. “The acoustics in this house are s**t. I can’t tell. God. God. Probably not. That’s stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.” He walks to the door and leans his ear against it. The sound of his own breathing? Or…

“It’s my own breathing. Obviously. I mean, the house is all locked up. I’m alone in here. No way in, right? It was just me.

Obviously.”

Alberto withdraws his ear. The toilet is still gurgling as it always does after a flush. “Since nothing is wrong, I’ll wash my hands,” he thinks. “Yep, just wash my hands and head on back to bed.” His hands shake as he reaches for the faucets. But before his hands can complete their mission, he hears the faint creak again. Unlike the other incidents, however, this creak is accompanied by the door handle to the bathroom moving. Maybe. Since the handle is a shiny bronze sphere, it’s really quite hard to see it moving. It probably isn’t.

Alberto locks his eyes on the door handle. Almost imperceptibly, it moves.

Alberto freezes, staring. Yeah, it’s moving. “The door in the wood is warping. Hell, stranger things have happened,” whispers Alberto. However, the water still isn’t running. Alberto’s hands have the faucets in a death-grip. If it had a throat, it’d be strangling. Stupid thought. Shakes his head. Turns on the water. And he hears

Hours later. Alberto wakes up. The water’s still running. Hell of a water bill I’m racking up. The window. Still dark. No watch. Don’t know the time. Can’t wait it out. Stands up. Falls. Stands up again. Door shut, handle stationary. Just like normal. S**t, I’m shaking. I’m just cold. The creak again, louder than ever. Right outside the door. And the…other sound. No doubt now. Walks. Hand on the doorknob. I’m going back to bed and sleeping and while I’m asleep I’ll dream of that girlIkissedinhighschooltheonewiththeblackhairandgreeneyeslikeacatorsomethingandilljustkissherkissherkissher

“STOP!” Alberto screams. “I HEARD THE HOUSE SETTLING AND GOT A BIT NERVOUS. NOW I AM GOING TO BED.”

His shout echoes through the house, fading away. The house eats it.

Alberto turns the doorknob and turns it. Not too slow, not too fast. The lock clicks open at the exact same volume that it always clicks. He opens the door.

A month later, the police investigate a report from the water company claiming that the resident of 13 Pentwater Avenue hasn’t paid his water bill and isn’t answering the phone or the doors. All they find is the bathroom door hanging wide open and the bathroom sink overflowing.

03/08/2024

White Lies:

Excerpt: White Lies is a short story about a young girl who can’t tell the truth and her mother who can’t stand liars.

There was a young girl named Chiaki. She was playing in her bedroom when she heard her mother calling her from the kitchen. She raced downstairs.

“Chiaki, come here. I have something to ask you,” her mother said.

“What is it?” asked Chiaki.

“Do you know who ate the cakes that were meant for the guests?”

“Uh… No… I don’t know,” Chiaki replied.

“Did you eat the cakes?” her mother asked.

“No, Mama, I didn’t,” the little girl replied.

Chiaki was wringing her hands nervously.

“Chiaki, I know when you are lying,” her mother said. “A thief always starts out in life by lying. And the police always catch a thief. And the thief is always punished. Do you know what I am saying Chiaki?”

Chiaki couldn’t bear the guilt anymore. She started sobbing.

“Mama, I’m sorry!” she wailed. “I ate the cakes! I’m sorry!”

“There, there. Stop crying,” said her mother as she held her hand. “I was angry because you lied to me. Now you’ve told the truth, everything is going to be fine. I don’t like liars, so never lie to me again, OK?”

“OK,” said Chiaki.

“Now dry your tears,” said her mother. “We’ll go to the store and buy more cakes.”

“OK, Mama,” Chiaki said.

Chiaki’s mother had a baby. When she came home from the hospital, Chiaki was delighted.

“This is Nana,” her mother said. “You’re her big sister. You have to treat her with love and care.”

“I will, Mama,” Chiaki said.

But after the baby arrived, her mother didn’t seem to have any time for her. The baby cried all day and all night. Chiaki couldn’t bear to hear it screaming and bawling. She couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t even think. Eventually, she had enough.

“Mama! I’m sick and tired of hearing her cry!” she shouted. “I can’t study with all this racket! Can you please shut her up?”

“You need to be more understanding,” her mother said. “Nana

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02/16/2024

Excerpt: The Girl in the Red Dress is a scary story about a little girl who is locked in her room because her grandma tells her she was bad.

Granny locked me in my room and she won’t let me out. She says it’s because I was bad.

Sometimes I do bad things. Ever since my mommy went away. Granny says my mommy is in heaven. I don’t know how she got there.

I can still remember mommy. I remember her long black hair and her dark eyes. I remember her red lips and her white teeth. I remember her soft skin. I remember the way she smelled.

Her red dress still smells like her. It’s hanging in the wardrobe in her bedroom. Granny keeps mommy’s room locked. She says I’m not allowed in there, but I know where she hides the key. Sometimes when granny falls asleep I sneak in there and smell mommy’s red dress.

I have a friend called Mary Ann. She lives across the street. Sometimes she comes over to my house to play. She came over today. We were playing with dolls.

Granny told me, “Don’t go into your mother’s room.”

“OK,” I said.

When Granny took her nap, I told Mary Ann, “Let’s play dress-up.”

I took the key from Granny’s hiding place and unlocked the door to mommy’s bedroom. We went inside. It was almost too dark to see.

“This is where my mommy lives,” I said.

“You don’t have a mommy,” Mary Ann said.

That made me angry. I opened the wardrobe and took out the red silk dress.

“This is my mommy’s dress,” I said. I held it up to show her.

“It stinks,” Mary Ann said.

“No it doesn’t,” I said. “It smells like flowers.”

“It smells like dead things,” she said.

That made me even more angry.

“Who’s that?” asked Mary Ann. She was pointing at a picture.

“That’s my mommy,” I said. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She’s ugly,” Mary Ann said. “She has creepy eyes and her teeth are weird.”

“No she hasn’t,” I said. “She looks like the most beautiful girl in the world!”

“She looks like a dead thing,” Mary Ann said.

That made me the angriest of all

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01/11/2024

Laughing Man:

Excerpt: The Laughing Man is a scary story about two men who go into the jungles of Africa and try to trap a rare species of ape. It is based on an old horror comic that appeared in Creepy #95.

There was a doctor who worked in a remote village in Africa. He was the only white person for miles and he had spent half his life taking care of the local villagers, providing them with medical care and medicine.

One day, a white man stumbled into the village. He could barely walk, but he was laughing like a maniac.

“Ha Ha Ha… Hee Hee Hee… Ha Ha Ha…”

His clothes were tattered and torn and his hands and knees were covered in blood. His eyes were wild and he looked exhausted. It seemed like he was out of his mind.

The doctor gave him some water and tended to his wounds, but the man couldn’t stop laughing…

“Ha Ha Ha… Hee Hee Hee… Ha Ha Ha…”

The doctor gave him a sedative and put him to bed, so he could get some rest.

The man slept for hours and when he woke up, the doctor gave him some food and tried to find out how he had come to be there.

“What happened to you?” the doctor asked. “What are you doing all alone out here in the jungle?”

“I wasn’t alone,” the laughing man replied. “I came with my partner Jack Hunter. We were on an expedition to find the legendary Wahki… That’s what the locals call them… A rare species of ape… The Africans say they’re intelligent apes… almost as intelligent as a human… maybe even more intelligent… We wanted to capture one and bring it back to civilization to put it on display. It was supposed to make us very rich…”

“We tried to hire a guide to take us into the valley of the apes, but none of the locals dared to go there. They were afraid of the apes. We weren’t going to let that stop us, so be bought a canoe and headed down the river on our own.”

“When we came to the valley of the apes, we made camp. Hunter unpacked the traps and set them up in a clearing in the jungle. We...
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01/06/2024

Dream Girl:

Excerpt: The Dream Girl is a scary story about a brother and sister who meet a rich young girl that lives in a mansion near their house.

Eliska looked at the large, crumbling mansion that lay across the fields from her little house. It had been empty for as long as she could remember. Every day, she gazed at it from her bedroom window and imagined what it would be like to live there.

Eliska and her brother Chris lived with their parents in a small, dilapidated house. Her family was poor and they couldn’t afford to make the necessary repairs. Eliska was always too embarrassed to invite any of her friends over after school.

One night, Eliska had a very strange dream about the old mansion. She dreamed that a beautiful young girl lived in the mansion and she invited Eliska to come inside. In the dream, the mansion was filled with ornate furnishings and the walls were lined with expensive paintings. She dreamed that the girl showed her a room that was filled with beautiful jewelry.

The next morning, when she awoke, Eliska looked out the window and noticed something different about the mansion. It looked as if the walls had been freshly painted and there were curtains in the windows. It seemed like someone had moved in after all.

At breakfast that morning, she told Chris about her strange dream.

“That’s funny,” Chris replied. “I had almost the exact same dream.”

“That’s weird,” Eliska said, puzzled.

Chris nodded in agreement.

That evening, when Eliska and Chris were playing in the field beside their house, they met a strange young girl. She was very a beautiful girl with long black hair and dark eyes. She was wearing an exquisite dress that shimmered in the fading light.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hi,” Chris replied. “Who are you?”

“My name is Angela,” the girl said. “I’m your new neighbor. My parents and I just moved in to the mansion over there.”

When she heard this, Eliska’s mouth dropped
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