scary stories are fun what's your fave short scary story
This post may include affiliate links.
my parents haven't really gotten over my brother passing. even his room has stayed the same. Even his decomposed body on his bed has stayed the same.
its not very good.. not mine either but creative so...
Ghost are actually aliens. We just can't seed them. They are aware of us. Some of them want to hurt us some of them don't. Just like humans. Some try to contact us. Sometimes the boundary that separates us slips and we can see them. sometimes they can reach us. touch us and our world. This is where the concept of ghosts came from. They are real and they are out there.
This was one of my nightmares actually
I was standing in a pitch-black room, suddenly I see a door open and a light flickering on the other side. I run towards it, the walls reading in (hopefully) red paint; ‘Wake up’ and ‘I know your sleeping.’ As I ran towards the door, the hallway began to bend, sending me flying into the air, and I blackout. Then when I finally wake up, I’m incredibly dizzy. Then I hear it, footsteps. They were coming towards me; I blinked and see feet like a stickmans’. Then a flash, like in a thunderstorm, and the feet were gone. I finally have the strength to get up and continue down the hallway. I speed-walk down the hall, looking over my shoulder every few seconds. Through the darkness, I hear, “Follow the light...it is the only way.” The way to what? I quickened to the door, thinking it meant the only way to get out of...wherever I was. I finally make it to the large door. It was covered in red, burning letters, all reading ‘wake up’ in large bold letters. I put my hand on the gold handle, it was only cracked open, so I had to push it open. I push it open, a loud creak emerging from the hinges. I walked in and looked around to see where I was. Then I heard a loud slam. I was trapped! Then a large face appears. It was his. He had a large, creepy smile and one blind red-eye, and one regular black eye, a dark, pitch-black
eye, and two scythe blades formed on his hands, first they weren’t there, then he extended them like a cat. A flash of white, and I wake up