Good evening, it’s Spooky Boo Rhodes from the mystical town of Sandcastle, California. Tonight I have for you several short creepypasta stories to keep your nightmares rolling at night.

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Now let’s begin.

Angry Man

by Epicwinguy

There is an Angry Man under my bed—mommy says that I am making it up, but I’m not. I asked mommy to check under the bed, but she didn’t find the Angry Man: she says to go to sleep and stop being silly…

Only I can’t sleep, the Angry Man is standing by my window and staring outside. He has a really ugly head—all twisted and gooey: it keeps changing shape but I don’t want to look at it too long as I get really scared.

I run to get daddy and go back, but the Angry Man has gone. Daddy isn’t very happy and mommy once again tells me to go to sleep.

Now I am really scared, the Angry Man is standing by my bed now—staring at me. He keeps jerking his head back and forth like he’s yelling, but nothing comes out of his mouth: his face keeps changing… I want to scream but I can’t… everything hurts; I feel like crying, but nothing is happening…

Finally, I scream and scream… keep screaming until mommy and daddy open the door, but it’s too late… the Angry Man doesn’t go away… he just turns to face mommy and daddy.

Mommy screams and daddy gets really scared eyes, he grabs something and tries to hit the Angry Man but daddy falls down—the Angry Man doesn’t even move.

Mommy starts to cry and tries to pick daddy up, as the Angry Man jerks around, as if shouting but no sounds come out.

Mommy starts yelling at the Angry Man, asking what he wants, but he doesn’t answer—daddy keeps calling on me but I’m too scared to move.

Finally I say the first thing that I can think of…

“Go away! Go away! GO AWAY!”

I keep yelling over and over, crying and pounding my fists against my bedcovers—I’m pretty sure I wet myself, but I’m far too scared to even bother as I keep yelling and crying.

The Angry Man jerks some more than runs to my window again, shattering the glass as he leaps outside—mommy and daddy come and take me out of bed as we all head down the stairs.

Daddy calls the police on his phone and gets everyone in the car, we stay in the car until the police come—mommy and daddy leave the car and talk to the police.

I can’t hear what they are saying but daddy seems to be getting very angry, the police don’t seem to believe them… I turn away and look out the other side of the car…

Then I see him… the Angry Man is back… he jerks his head back and forth, as he taps on the car window…

I scream and try to get out but mommy and daddy locked the car, I keep screaming…

Mommy and daddy turn around and start running to the car, the police get the same scared look daddy did in my room—drawing their guns as they run after mommy and daddy…

I scream some more as glass shatters and a long arm reaches over and grabs me, tugging me outside…

Everything goes dark…

The Creature In Your Mind

by RiboZurai

Ever tried to figure out what that thing that always lurks inside your mind was? Haunting your dreams? Eating you in your nightmare? Now you can finally face him, talk to him. But be careful… Who knows what can happen to you?

It must be a new moon night in December. When it’s exactly 1:28 in the morning, you must go to bed, wearing plain white clothing. The same rule applies to your bed sheet. If you don’t have any white bed sheets, don’t put them on your bed or the ritual won’t work. Lay down, act like you’re sleeping. But I suggest you to not sleep on your back because it might be more painful. Close your eyes, and wait until you start to hear whispers coming from behind your door. When you start to hear those frightful whispers, say in a low voice, “Come to me, I want to talk.” If done correctly, the door will open, and you will suddenly fall asleep. Otherwise, you will just sleep normally.

While sleeping, you will instantly wake up inside a small room, with two windows in opposite walls. Outside the windows, there are endless night skies raining blood both up and down. There’s nothing but a table, two chairs and blood. Blood everywhere. Act like you don’t mind that, not at all. Just get the closest chair, and sit down. Say confidently, “I’m here.” The door in the other side of the room will open, and it will come. A creature that will have an unspeakable appearance will appear. But somehow, you will feel like you’re just facing the thing you most are afraid of, whether it’s a person, an object or a place. Just stare at the creature as it approaches and sits down. Don’t panic, it won’t hurt you. At least not physically.

The creature will start to talk. Its voice will give you shivers that even your soul will feel. But act like you don’t mind. Just listen. It will talk about the secrets of your life, your future, and will speak about the scary truth of existence. You still have to avoid reacting despite how unsettling and utterly frightening it is. Otherwise, it will attack you, and you will die in your sleep. Once he stops talking, you will know. He will lean his head on his right fist. You shall say at this time, “I understand. Am I worthy to know?” He will ask to see your hand. Show it. Do not disobey. If you do correctly, he will put something in your hand; you can’t tell what it is at the moment. But when that happens, you will wake up, and it will be exactly 7 in the morning.

You will notice something in your hand, it will be closed. Open it, do not worry… yet. You will see what the monster placed in your hand. It can be one of these four possibilities: If you see a quarter in your hand, every night will give you a very pleasant dream. If you see a little rubber duck, your dreams will be memories of your childhood. If it’s a little key, you will be able to see your friends’ secrets through your dreams. But if there’s nothing at all, the next time you sleep, you will never wake up again. The effects of the objects lasts exactly six days. After that, your nights will get back to normal.

But I shall tell you. During these six days, never, never get rid of those objects. Always take them with you, all the time. The creature knows what you’re doing.

Afraid of the Dark

by Icydice

When I woke up, I only recognized the growing sense of thirst from within my dehydrated body. I licked my parched lips and slipped out of the covers, my body suddenly hit by the cold air stitched into the seams of the oppressive darkness ahead. I quivered as I reluctantly embraced the chill temperature and made my way to the door, jumping with each step as small creaks were produced from the weight of my foot being placed upon the oak floorboards. Although the noise was faint, it sounded deafeningly loud in contrast to the dead silence surrounding my petite self.

All five of my fingers curled around the bronze colored door knob ahead, and they steadily turned it until a small click was heard. I then placed my tiny hand against the wooden door coated in a fine layer of white paint, and with a gentle push, the barrier between the safe haven of a child’s bedroom and whatever lay beyond was removed.

I shivered as a new draft of icy air entered the room. A brand new wave of darkness seemed to rush through the doorway and engulf the area, its color resembling that of tar. Summoning all the courage I could, I placed both feet firmly on the beige carpet that embellished the ground. My eyes glared at the corridor before me. It appeared lengthier at night than during the day. I could imagine elongated arms melting from the walls on both sides, grasping at my clothing. I could envision dozens of spiders dropping from the ceiling, several landing on my hair, and others crawling on the surface of my body.

Shaking my head, I banished such thoughts and proceeded down the hallway. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I walked past the room where my parents soundly rested in their comfortable bed. There was no turning back, and even if I wanted to, my craving for a drink to sedate my ever growing dehydration only grew. I carried on still, finally reaching the end of the endless path, and found myself in a clearing. By then, my eyes had grown somewhat accustomed to the dark, and I could make out a few pieces of furniture and a television set.

I slowed my pace and gulped nervously. A sense of peril entrenched the room. I found that shadows would dance in the corner of my eyes, only to disappear once I turned my head in their direction. The darkness seemed even more foreboding than it had just seconds earlier. I desperately wished to run to my parents like I had so many times before. Still, I remembered how they had always told me there was nothing to be afraid of. They explained numerous times that my young imagination would always come up with ways to scare me, but I had to learn to be brave and overcome the fear I would often encounter at the hands of my own mind. Thus, my mind was set on proving to my mother and father that I wasn’t afraid anymore, and so I carried on.

I confidently walked forward, repeating what my parents had said in my thoughts with each stride. After taking a few steps, I heard it. From behind me, I could make out the sound of footsteps, their rhythm conflicting with my own. As I stopped, so did they. My heart began beating faster than before. Had it been my mind playing tricks on me again? I resumed my steady pace, and this time, the only footsteps I could hear were my own.

As I neared the kitchen, I found myself standing completely still once more. Figures and shapes yet again found themselves located in the corners of my eyes. I attempted to take a few deep breaths in order to calm down. It was just my imagination, right? I tried my hardest to assure myself of that, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I doubted it, and that growing sense of fear showed as I walked even faster. I kept my eyes focused ahead, not daring to look behind me for even a second.

The off-beat footsteps returned once again, and I responded by going even faster. I felt the wind start to pick up and brush by my face as I realized how quickly I was moving. I was certain that my imagination was causing me to hear the footsteps on my trail and the forms appearing in the corner of my eyes. I was aware that my imagination was the reason behind my deepest, darkest fears, which were beginning to make their presence known within my soul. I knew for a fact that only my imagination could make my heart beat the way it did, and soak my palms in a thin layer of sweat. My parents would never lie to me, would they?

Regardless of what I knew to be true or not, I was close to arriving at my destination. I began a full sprint as I felt the darkness clutching my ankles and arms. I could hear the footsteps aimlessly walking around, and more illusions of figures accompanied them. I had one hell of an imagination, and I had one thought racing through my mind. I needed to find a light switch.

I was desperate for light that would illuminate my surroundings, driving back the treacherous night and whatever creatures lived within it, their sole purpose in life to capture me and munch on my bones. I was so close, just a few feet away. I leaped forward and pushed a small lever upwards, soaking me and the area in a warm, much appreciated glow. I sighed deeply, relieved to be out of danger at last. However, before I could even move, my heart stopped, and my eyes widened.

Behind me, I heard a voice most unfamiliar. It was guttural and moist, and it echoed throughout the entire house.

“Finally… I can see you.”

I flicked off the lights before letting out a shrill cry. I dashed through the darkness, through the living room, the hallway, all the way to my parents room. Though I can’t be certain, I… I swear I could hear the faint sound of childish giggling from behind me. My parents were frustrated that I had awoken them, but I didn’t care in the slightest. I clung to my mother, sobbing into her chest.

My father didn’t find anything in the house. He searched every nook and cranny of the place, only to confirm his suspicions that we were the sole occupants. My parents let me sleep with them that night. I knew that no matter what I said, they would simply chalk my experience up to being a consequence of a hyperactive mind.

But I knew… I knew there was something with me. I knew beyond any doubt, that the breathing I felt on the back of my neck, and that deep, perverted voice was all real. Looking back I feel almost silly that I was afraid of the dark. We were never afraid of the dark. Rather, it was what was in it that petrified us to our very core.

It was the knowledge that the only thing separating us from a potentially cruel, twisted fate, was the thin veil of darkness surrounding us.

The Anguished Man

by Distus

The day started out like no other. Michael had just got home from work and sat down in front of his television, mindlessly staring into the endless void of pixels dancing around on a glass screen. After a few short minutes of mind numbingly staring into the television, he decided to go and get himself an ice cold beer from the fridge. On the journey there, he heard something on the TV that unlocked a memory that had been long buried and forgotten for what he thought was an eternity.

He went to the decrepit dungeon hidden away by a secret eroded door he kept underneath the family rug, carefully placing his large foot on the small first step of the descent, tip toeing down each step afterwards making sure to not slip, fall or break the slats of the feeble stairs he fumbled down. He trod on an old leather ball and slipped into the entangling darkness of the locked away cellar, accidentally shutting the door behind him. With only a spec of light creeping through an unreachable double glazed window at the top of the ceiling, taunting and teasing him about the freedoms outside, he blindly felt around for the painting he tried to recover in the first place.

On first gaze of the thought provoking portrait of the ‘Anguished Man’ Michael found himself lost for words at the hidden beauty of this disturbing painting. After retrieving the lost portrait, Michael struggled to find his way back to the steps leading back to the light that he could barely see coming through a minuscule gap in the floorboards, as if God were guiding him back to his domain where he could be safe from the dark devils that dwelled in the cellar.

After approximately three minutes of floundering up the dusty stairs, he finally managed to make his way back to the outside world. The first action he took was to hang the horrifying picture on the drooping wallpaper of his one bedroom apartment. Later that night he heard strange noises coming from outside his bedroom roughly where he hung ‘The Anguished Man’. After thoroughly investigating the cause of the noise he found no evidence, except a small knife laying on the floor of his small kitchen. After coming to the conclusion that the wind was playing tricks on him and that it had magically opened his cutlery draw and pick up a metal knife and threw it on the floor, he made his way back to his room where he drifted back off to sleep. Half way through the night he felt a warm liquid feeling drip down his face and decided to wipe it off, thought nothing of it and drift off back to sleep.

The next morning Michael woke up to find his pillow smothered in the amount of blood needed to drown someone, quickly rushing to the bathroom to grab some tissue paper, he found that when he looked in the mirror his ear was slit down the middle, something, with surgical precision, had slit down the middle part of his ear. Again thinking nothing about it he put a small plaster on it and decided to go to work. Upon coming home from work he found the ‘Anguished Man’ laying on the floor with a more, sinister expression on the portraits face, but weirdest of all, he found writing on the walls that read ‘Everyone has betrayed me’ upon reading this the door slammed shut, locking in place. Michael ran to his bedroom, locking the door, not even looking at the horrors that lurked inside. After locking his door, he noticed some more etching in blood which read ‘Turn around’.

Slowly, he turned around, to find the Anguished Man, drenched in a vast pool of blood, looking at him, staring at him… the portrait now depicts two figures, screaming, with hollow eyes.. and hollow mouths…

If you look close enough, you’ll see two little tears on one’s face.

***

Thank you for listening. If you enjoyed this episode, please visit the website to make a comment. You can also find the stories that I write at www.scarystorytime.com. I would love it if you followed me online. Just visit www.spookyboorhodes.com to find links to my social media accounts and websites and pick your poison.

That’s all for tonight. I’ll see you in your nightmares.