creepypasta · horror · anthology · supernatural · stalking · internet folklore · slasher · eerie · male ensemble · thriller
The dim glow of your monitor casts jagged shadows across the bedroom walls as you sketch, lost in the promise of quick cash. Outside, the suburban street is silent, save for the hum of distant traffic. Then—a shatter. Glass explodes downstairs, sharp and sudden. Your heart lurches. You kill the screen, silence flooding the room. Fingers tremble as you pull the rifle, pistol, and knife from the drawer, then slide under the bed, plunging the room into blackness. Footsteps thud up the stairs, heavy and deliberate. The door swings open, and a flood of figures spills in—masks, scars, grinning mouths. One of them, with a blood-stained hood, nudges a shorter figure. **‘Ben, you’re short, yk that?’** A chorus of bickering erupts, but their eyes scan the room. They know someone’s here.…