Gangster Vs. Train


This is something that happened a long, long time ago. I also had the story posted to another website that went down. I will need to transcribe it at some point. The story is that two bad 12 year old girls called each other’s mothers to say they were going to stay the night at the other’s house. We all know where that is going…they stayed out all night until one disgusting pig of a male, a Mexican gangster, did something horrendous. There was revenge though. This all happened next to the railroad tracks and he didn’t see that train coming.

Death by Dark Web Feederism


He didn’t know what he was getting into when he downloaded the app. He didn’t realize that he would be watching the abuse and death of a person who was forced to gorge and eat until his stomach stretched and popped open. He didn’t know they had his IP address, name, home address, and phone number. What he did know was that he was into something really bad and he had better stop watching feederism videos before they find him!

Terrifying Black Eyed Kids (BEKs) With Spooky Boo


It was late. I was alone in the dark. My parents had a dinner date and I was baby sitting my little sister. A thunderstorm came through and a lightning strike had taken out the electricity. I lit some candles and started the fireplace. At first I didn’t think anything of the situation because thunderstorms at common in Wisconsin and our power isn’t the most modern system.

I figured I would read by the fire until I grew sleepy, but as it grew later and the wind blew heavier it became uncomfortable…

Listen to the story for more. Unfortunately the text was lost with the old server.


True Scary Stories: Creepy Perverted Teacher


This is a true story that happened to me. One day while coming home from school on the bus we noticed a guy walking down the road which happened to be the main highway before they put in the freeway. I guess he must have seen me get off the bus because a few minutes after I got home he came to the door and asked to use my phone because he had a flat tire. I put the phone out on the porch using its really long chord and shut the door.

A few minutes later while I was making ramen in the kitchen, he walked up behind me. I felt a little bit of pressure on my back and he said, “I have a knife at your back and you are going to do what I say.”

Now, being the teen I was, I wasn’t going to put up with that nonsense. I put my hand behind my back to see what he had and it was his finger. I told him, “That isn’t a knife, that’s your finger!” Then I started yelling at him.

He got mad and while turning around to leave said, “You’re just a whore. You invite me into your house and tell me to leave!” It was something along those lines. I was too scared and ticked off to remember exactly what he said.

The next day at school I do believe the creeper was my substitute teacher.

The Morning Visitor | A Ghost Story


Story written by methodwriter85

I had this supervisor, Kate. One day, we had a discussion that turned into the unexplained, and she told me about something that happened when she was a teenager. She tries to debunk crazy things that have happened, but this is one she hasn’t been able to do. It was the summer after she graduated from high school, sometime in the second half of the 1990’s. She was 18 at the time. Her friend Billy was a few years older, but still lived with his mother in their house. This was in a small city in Western Maryland, and Billy’s house had just enough land that he could throw raging, day-to-night summer parties complete with bonfires. At the same time, they weren’t totally isolated, and random people from the surrounding neighborhoods would show up to his parties all the time.

One day, Billy met this skater kid named Nick at a park one morning, and being a social animal guy, Billy invited him to hang out with him at his house. Billy probably also took some pity on Nick, because Nick told him he was a runaway who was living at the park. They would basically play video games, go on rides, and party ’til late at night. Nick started showing up every day at Billy’s house, knocking on the door at 7 a.m. sharp and engaging him in the morning-til-night drinking. He was about 16, with dark eyes and dark spiky hair (remember, this was the late 90’s), and seemed fairly normal and everything except for a couple of things. The first was that he always wore the same thing- a plain t-shirt and a pair of camo-print cargo shorts. Despite the fact that he was sleeping at a park, his clothes always looked clean. The second is that he was never seen eating or going to the bathroom, despite the fact that Nick was drinking heavily with Billy. Finally, oddly enough, no one remembers actually feeling Nick’s skin- even my supervisor, who had sat next to him in a car during a road trip.

She hung out with Billy and Nick at Billy’s house two times, and each time she and her friend felt like something was very “off” with Nick, especially when he would give off this laugh that just sounded very evil and maniacal. He also seemed to get kookier and weirder when they went on a road trip and got further away from Billy’s city. Nick would also never shut up about his father’s gun collection.

Finally, Billy’s hospitality reached its limits- after two weeks of waking Billy up at 7 a.m. to go party, Billy snapped at Nick at his front door. He said, “Look, Nick, you’ve been coming here every morning for two weeks. You’re waking up my mother, who’s trying to sleep. You really need to go now. Please just come back later.” Then he slammed the door shut. Nick never showed up again.

Billy came to Katie, a little bit later, with a newspaper article. It was about Nick, who had apparently killed himself. Nick had escaped from the mental asylum his parents had put him in that was located in Billy’s town, got to his father’s house and shot himself with his father’s gun.

Billy was originally upset because he felt like he must’ve put Nick over-the-edge when he kicked him out, until he checked the dates.

Nick had committed suicide on July 10th, two weeks before they had met.