Scary stories are interesting to listen to when you are with your friends but the real trouble begins when you are alone in the night. Folding yourself in the blanket trying to sleep and start to think about that woman or man and suddenly you start imagining them in your room’s corner or in the dark place of your room. Scary stories are indeed fun though, let’s look at some of the best we have gathered from people’s personal experience. Real or not the stories might leave you shivering.
There’s a ghost in town, you know. And not one of the harmless ones either.
She died of a broken heart after the loss of her daughter. If you’re sensitive you can see her walking the streets, screaming and rending her clothes. She says she won’t rest until she’s found out who murdered her child.
And she means it.
The daughter’s boyfriend, thrown out of the window over and over. Her school rival, face pressed against an iron. Her father- the ghost’s husband- nearly drowned in a bathtub.
She appears hurling accusations and hurts you until you confess. It usually doesn’t take long. But she still doesn’t move on, and realizes its a lie, so she leaves. And finds the next person on the list.
Sometimes, her screams become sobs. What if it was some wandering vagrant who left town weeks ago? Some serial killers who picked a random target they have no connection to? What if she never learns who took her daughter away?
I try to tell her she does know, of course.
I point to the note. I tell her over and over. No-one killed me. I took my own life. You don’t need to keep hurting people. It was all my fault.
And she leans down, and gently takes my skeletal face in bony hands, and shakes her head. “Of course you didn’t. I know my daughter. I always accepted you. I did everything I could to make you happy. You wouldn’t do this. Someone faked the note. I know it. I was a good mum. You wouldn’t have done this.”
I try to explain, over and over, but she’s not listening. She suspects the local priest now. She’d never quite trusted him anyway.
My guilt is no match for her rage, so all I can do is watch as she floats away. Shortly, I hear screams from the church.
There’s a ghost in town, you know. And not one of the harmless ones either.
by Reddit user u/urbenmyth.
I found the key to the door my mom had been hiding
About a week ago, I found a small trap door in my moms closet, she told me not to go in, ever since then she has been acting strange.
The key was behind the washing machine, I thought about it at first, what if she found out and got mad at me.
But I did it anyway, the door clicked open, and there, I saw a body.
My Mothers Body…
The Lady in the Tree
There was a huge oak tree in my grandma’s back yard when I was about 6 or 7 (which has been cut down since). Where I lived, it wasn’t uncommon for someone to have oak trees somewhere in their yard. But this tree, it was stripped of its bark, making it a grey-ash color. There were no leaves and never once did I see any when I visited.
I hated going in the back to play by myself. The branches always seemed to be looming over me, seeming to be dark, even on a bright and sunny day. One day when I got bored and decided to go outside to play, I decided to swing on the tire attached to a rope hanging on one of the branches. It was innocent enough.
My grandmother was inside washing the dishes but she could see me through the window, as it had a direct view of the entire back yard.
I sat down and slowly started to swing. The branches croaked and squeaked each time I went back and forth. It sounded like it would break at any moment but it was actually pretty sturdy. I’d used it before. Suddenly, I got a creepy feeling, like something was watching me from above. I was too scared to look up.
I looked through the window to see if my grandmother was still there… but when I looked at her, she was looking above me, a terrified look on her face, her hand covering her mouth.
It felt like the sun suddenly vanished and a misty fog rolled in around me. When did that get there? I couldn’t move. My fight or flight had me at option three, frozen. I started hearing a creaking sound on the branch above me, like something was swinging back and forth slowly. It wasn’t me. I hadn’t moved within the last two minutes.
I almost started to cry when my grandmother finally came rushing outside and over to me, quickly moving me. She shielded me from seeing what was on the tree. Nothing was said when we got inside, though I think she didn’t want to freak me out more than I already was. My grandmother moved from that house a few months later after cutting the tree down.
She didn’t want me to come over after that but now that she’s in her new home she lets me come over whenever I want.
A few years later when I had remembered the incident, I asked her what happened. She sighed, I had a feeling she still didn’t want to tell me and answered with the most terrifying answer anyone could think of.
“There was a woman hanging from her neck. It was all twisted and the bone protruded through her skin. But she wasn’t dead. She had a look of death in her eyes and she was fixated on you, struggling to reach you. When I got to you she started choking on her own blood.”
After hearing that I was glad she had shielded me from seeing that. I’m happy that I never went back there. And I’m happy the tree was cut down so no other child has to experience what I went through.
I did some research and found out that a couple who had lived in this house before, the husband, beat and killed his wife (snapped her neck) and hung her on the tree to make it look like a suicide. It seems he wasn’t in his right of mind.
There was a knock on my door but I don’t want to open the door
There was a gentle tap on my door. I guessed it was my father. “Hey Brian, you in there?” I didn’t feel like replying. I was sitting in one corner of my room. It was surprising how you could clearly see the whole room from here, all the little details. I realized that I had never looked at my room in this way.
My father knocked again, but I still didn’t feel like replying. The last few months had been extremely tough for me. I had moved out to this city with my dad after his transfer. He had told that it would take some time to adjust to the new surroundings, but it was extremely difficult for me. Especially school.
I hated the way the people at school looked at me, as if I was an alien. I hated those looks, the murmurs, the gossips that went behind my back. Then it started. One day while I was in the library, they surrounded me. After that, it started raining punches and kicks on me. I could not even cry out. And after that it slowly became the daily routine for me, getting beaten up by the boys. I was too afraid to tell it my father. I would hide the injuries from him, wear hoodies even at home just so that he wouldn’t know.
Outside, slowly I felt the panic rising. The knocks changed into blows. My father was shouting out loud, asking me to open the door. For a moment, I felt like opening the door but I was feeling too tired. Also, the corner was warm and comfortable.
A sudden blow and the door opened, and my father entered the room. I looked at him, the expression in his face changed slowly from tension to one of horror. I was sitting there but he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were transfixed in the middle of the room, where my body was hanging from the ceiling.
Keeping in Touch
On Monday, I got a notification. Amanda had sent a request to privately message me. Her profile pic was the same. Lively eyes. Broad smile.
I ignored her.
On Tuesday, another notification. This time, she wanted to follow me. Even though we were no longer friends.
Like before, I ignored her.
Wednesday rolled around, and a third notification graced my phone. She had liked a selfie of me and my cat. And commented on it. A heart emoji.
I deleted the post.
Yesterday, I heard that familiar buzzing sound. I didn’t dare to look at it. Or even read it. Not this time.
I blocked her.
Today, while I was taking a shower, my phone started to ring.
I’m standing here, wearing nothing but a towel. Staring at the number displayed on the screen. I haven’t picked it up yet. And I don’t think I’ll ever answer.
But it’s still ringing.
She won’t stop calling to me.
Amanda will never leave me alone. She’ll never let me go. She still thinks that we’re friends.
Even though the funeral was a month ago.
— by – EvanTheNerd83
How Do You Want To Die?
It’s been six days
Three, without water.
The pool of blood drying to my
face, so thick and stiffening, my
left eye held shut by hardened liquid.
Unable to move, my arms and legs
lying on my stomach.
Chained to metal spikes
that had been hammered into
the concrete floor
of the basement.
The face staring across from me
was that of an elderly anorexic man,
bald head cracked and
leaking brain and blood.
He was my captor.
He hid in the backseat of my car,
until I got off work.
I saw him just as the syringe
plunged into my neck.
Now, however, my kidnapper was
only a corpse.
In a stroke of luck, or divine intervention,
my life had been spared.
He was slowly coming down the stairs,
brandishing a box cutter,
staring through big red eyes,
tears streaming down his face.
“How do you want to die?
Should I open up your throat?”
I wanted nothing more than to live.
To see my mom and dad,
my annoying little brother.
Pulling desperately at my restraints,
as I watched in horror as he descended
But before he could get down the stairs,
the board he was standing on snapped,
and the man came crashing to the ground.
His head hit the unforgiving floor
with a sickening thud, followed immediately
by wet splatters, as his head burst
like a pimple.
I had survived, and just as soon as
help arrives, I’ll be in my cozy home
with my family.
I can’t wait to see…
The silence was broken by a
a quiet scratching sound.
My blood froze.
A small rat appeared and scurried
up onto the chest of the man’s corpse.
It sniffed, moved toward his neck,
and without hesitation, began biting
the flesh from his throat…
The gag around my mouth wouldn’t
permit me to scream.
I shut my other eye tightly,
and tried to think of anything other than
what I had just seen.
Until I heard the scratching noise
I felt something against my leg,
tearing at my jeans as I desperately
tried to shake it away.
I felt one on my back.
I opened my eye and to my terror,
the man was covered in rats,
furiously devouring him.
They piled on me, gnawing away at
my clothes, frenzied and determined.
My eyes fell upon the box cutter
lying next to the man.
I stared longingly at it,
lusting at the thought
of burying the blade in my neck.
Anything but this, I thought,
as they began devouring my face…
“How do you want to die?”
Faster. –by – u/priestBlaine
In the end, a two-sentence horror stories as you try to look for things looking weirder than normal, yes that chair! someone is sitting on it and staring at you for hours.
My husband has been very upset with me since my failed suicide attempt.
He’s crying nonstop and he won’t acknowledge me
Loved the stories, read some of the horrifying cases from Horror Stories.