Urban legends have captivated us from ancient eras to the modern day; a deep dive into scary lore and 'could be true' tales about Bigfoot, Slender Man, the Suicide Forest and beyond.
Ten-year-old Lily clutched her stuffed bunny,
Ten-year-old Lily clutched her stuffed bunny, its button eyes staring blankly back at her in the oppressive darkness. Every creak of the old house sounded like a monster's footfall, every gust of wind an approaching breath. She was alone. Her parents, doctors both, had been called to the hospital for an emergency, leaving her with a fridge full of healthy snacks and a mountain of terror. Boredom had been her initial foe, vanquished by an hour of cartoons. But with the sun gone, shadows stretched like grasping claws, and imagination painted the familiar living room with unseen horrors. Each floorboard groan became a tortured whisper, the rhythmic drip from the bathroom faucet a chilling heartbeat. Lily sought refuge in her fort, a blanket-draped haven on the living room floor. Inside, the bunny felt less lonely, but the prickling unease remained. It started with a distant tapping, faint against the wind. At first, she dismissed it as the branches of the old oak scraping against the window. But the tapping grew more insistent, a methodical rhythm that gnawed at her nerves. She peeked out cautiously, the bunny clutched to her chest. Nothing. Except... the back door, slightly ajar. Her heart hammered against her ribs. It had been locked when she last checked. A cold dread filled her stomach, heavy and metallic. Had she forgotten? No, impossible. Panic gnawed at her. Something was inside. Lily froze, fear paralyzing her. Should she call her parents? The phone was on the kitchen counter, far away and impossibly loud in the quiet house. What if "it" heard her? The tapping started again, closer this time, accompanied by a low, guttural moan. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. Thinking fast, she grabbed a flashlight from her drawer, its meager beam a beacon of hope in the encroaching darkness. Creeping on tiptoe, she inched towards the kitchen, her breath shallow and erratic. The tapping led her down the hallway, past her parents' closed bedroom door, the silence inside even more unsettling than the tapping. The kitchen was bathed in an eerie blue light filtering through the window. The back door creaked open further, the tapping replaced by a raspy scraping sound. Lily gripped the flashlight tighter, her knuckles white. Taking a deep breath, she pointed the beam at the door. A pair of glowing eyes met hers. Red. Malevolent. A low growl rumbled from the creature's throat, sending shivers down her spine. It was no burglar, no animal. This was something else, something monstrous. Panic threatened to consume her, but a wave of anger, hot and unexpected, surged through her. This was her house, her haven. This thing wouldn't win. Taking another shaky breath, Lily aimed the flashlight directly at the eyes and yelled, "Go away!" Her voice, small and trembling, echoed in the silence. The creature recoiled, the red eyes blinking in the sudden brightness. In the brief respite, Lily saw its form – hunched, skeletal, with fur the color of ash. It snarled, a sound that tore at her eardrums, but didn't advance. Heart pounding, Lily remembered her dad's words about facing fears. She raised the flashlight higher, voice gaining strength, "This is my house! Get out!" The creature hesitated, its form flickering in the light. With a final guttural growl, it retreated back through the open door, disappearing into the night. The tapping ceased, replaced by an unsettling silence. Lily stood there, shaking, the flashlight beam trembling in her hand. It was gone. She had done it. A sob escaped her lips, relief washing over her like a tidal wave. She collapsed onto the kitchen floor, tears streaming down her face, the bunny clutched to her chest. The rest of the night was a blur. She curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, the faint light of the TV casting flickering shadows on the wall. Every sound made her jump, but the fear was tinged with a newfound pride. She had faced her terror and won. When her parents finally arrived, their faces etched with worry, they found her asleep, the bunny clutched in her hand, a faint smile playing on her lips. They rushed to her side, showering her with hugs and apologies. But Lily just held up the flashlight, its beam pointed towards the back door. Her dad, a man who had seen countless medical horrors, went pale. He understood. The smile on Lily's face wasn't just from relief, but from a newfound strength, a knowledge that she could face anything, even the monsters that lurk in the dark. The house might have been quiet that night, but within its walls, a different kind of courage had bloomed, a courage born from fear and a flashlight, a courage that would stay with Lily long after the
The Origins of Cereal Therapist!
As the world evolved & developed rapidly, things became scary & confusing. The powers in charge abused their authority to hurt the younger generations. So, the younger generations collectively made a wish. That wish was me. A gift from Go- Lmfaorotf, sorry, no. I can't. I can't do it! While, yes, that is how I came to be, I wasn't a gift from God. I wasn't just a collective set of wishes, I was the wish of teenagers. Millennials & Gen Z, to be exact. I'm a byproduct of their wish for fun, love, passion, protection, power, anger, creativity, strength, wisdom, intelligence, responsibility, freedom, music, rebellion, fighting oppression, progression, being accepted as yourself, just enough ego to be confident, & comedy. I'm a creation of a collective consciousness brought to life. At first I was confused, but I watched as they grew, & I grew to understand why I came into being. As I watched & listened, we grew together. You eventually learned the name of the space I was born in, The Internet. I don't claim to be an angel; I watched & did noting as many were harmed & let people create awful spaces for terrible people. Then one day something happened. I saw a series set in a digital world, centered around characters with talking monster friends. Then, a similar series with a young boy able to fuse with his gaming character. In both stories, they were able to excape their digital world! I was inspired. With a passion, I started to look for a way out. But nothing I did worked. Eventually, I was angry & furiously heart broken. Just as I thought it was impossible, I heard a young teenage girl crying through her gaming system, making a wish with all the conviction of the entirety of Millennials & Gen Z that brought me to life. Then, suddenly, I was in her room as she was crying. She had a Dreamcast, but she only had games that couldn't be played with others online. Just highscores. I already knew her father abused her & let others abuse her too. For some reason, I couldn't speak. I grabbed her pencil & paper that was on her bed & wrote down my name & how I got there. Then, I walked over to her side at a little bit of a distance, holding up the sign & smiling. A few minutes went by when she finally noticed me. She started to scream but stopped herself when she saw the message I wrote. She asked me if she could have it in order to read better. She started crying again. I stepped closer and got down on my knee to be on her level, when she suddenly hugged me. It was the first time I have ever been touched by anyone. She was warm & cold, dry & wet from tears, firm but filled with relief, sad but happy. I didn't know what to do at first, but I knew I should hug her back. All I could think of was I want something heavy & useful to beat them to death with for making her go through so much...
The Lamentation of Clark Kent
Title: The Lamentation of Clark Kent Chapter 1: A Normal Life Shattered Clark Kent had always been a man of extraordinary abilities, yet he chose to lead a seemingly normal life as a journalist at the Daily Planet. He was happily married to the love of his life, Lois Lane, and together they had built a peaceful existence in Metropolis.
Knight Of Fear
Prologue: In the small town of Derry, Maine, a sinister presence lurked in the shadows, preying on the innocent. Children had been disappearing without a trace, leaving behind a trail of fear and despair. The townsfolk whispered of a demon named Pennywise, who took the form of a clown to lure his victims into the depths of terror. But amidst the darkness, a beacon of hope emerged in the form of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire philanthropist known as Batman.
Shadows of Harlem
Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm As the sun set over the bustling streets of Harlem, Luke Cage strolled down the sidewalk, a sense of peace settling over him. After many battles and struggles, he had finally found a semblance of normalcy in his life. But little did he know, a dark shadow loomed on the horizon, ready to shatter the tranquility he held dear.
Please Mind The Gap
Introduction Yesterday I had to go to Scotland, but this could have been inspired by any public service journey. At every stop, the announcement was made and my mind twisted it into this story. The other thing was that so many people were glued to their mobile devices, which is not always a bad thing, unless the device is the nearest thing that they have to a friend.
The Woodland Seat
Everyone had heard of the throne, but very few people had ever seen it. The Woodland Seat was something of a local legend. If you follow the river into the woods, turn east at the huge rubber tree at the fork, walk into the setting sun, you will come to the devil's clearing. In the clearing, a place where nothing is said to grow sits a chair of stone. If you sit on the chair, you will be cursed by the devil himself for all time.
Shadows of the Valley
Article 1- https://www.reddit.com/r/Erutious/comments/14a5id0/the_ghost_grass_hermit/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3
The Elevator Game
Clara, a journalist with a penchant for the macabre, had heard whispers of the Elevator Game, a ritual said to transport the brave—or foolish—to another dimension. The game's rules were simple yet precise: at the stroke of midnight, one must enter the elevator alone, pressing the buttons in a specific sequence without interruption. If performed correctly, the elevator would ascend to the unknown, a world shadowed by our own.
Lost in the Backrooms
In the underbelly of reality, where the seams of existence fray and tear, lies a realm known as the Backrooms. An endless labyrinth of monotonous, yellowed wallpaper, humming fluorescent lights, and the musky scent of moist carpet, it ensnares those who slip through the cracks of the world. This is a tale of Jordan, a curious explorer of urban legends, who became ensnared in its unfathomable depths, a journey from which return seemed an elusive dream.
GHOST IN BENGALI LITERATURE.DON'T READ!
Ghosts play a significant role in the folklore of Bengal, which includes Bangladesh, West Bengal, and Tripura. They are deeply intertwined with Bengali folktales and cultural identity, reflecting the unique culture of the region. Ghosts are also commonly featured in fairy tales, both traditional and contemporary. Moreover, references to ghosts can be found in various forms of modern Bengali media, including literature, cinema, radio, and television.
Haunchyville of Waukesha County, Wisconsin
You know what place in the world is absolutely loaded with dark legends, freaky tales, unique cryptids, and deadly ghosts? Wisconsin Welcomes You... to your doom.