SUPERNATURAL STORIES

In British folklore, to see the Black Dog is to die within the year. A traveler on a Yorkshire moor describes an encounter. He wrote this account three days before he disappeared.

A Flash game puzzle asking "Do you like the red room?" The pop-up cannot be closed. Everyone who sees it paints their walls red.

Every night at 3:17 AM, the forest behind the house screams. Not an animal. Not the wind. The neighbors don't hear it. The recordings show nothing but silence.

The smile in the portrait changes. Not dramatically — just slightly more or less of the teeth, the corners a degree higher. The figure is closer to the edge of the frame each morning.

The button sequence takes you somewhere else. On the fifth floor, a woman will board. Do not look at her. Do not speak to her. Do not acknowledge that she is there.

He appears at the edge of forests with white, pupilless eyes. He builds structures no player placed. Every Minecraft patch note since 2010 has included the same line: REMOVED HEROBRINE.

I've worked Search and Rescue in national forest land for eleven years. There are things we don't talk about in official reports. Not because we're hiding them — because there's no language for them.

I want to tell you about the worst camping trip of my life. Not because anything overtly horrible happened, but because of what almost did, and because of how I know something was wrong.

The original Something Awful forum posts that created one of the internet's most iconic horror figures — a tall, thin, faceless entity in a black suit that appears near children.

There is an image file called smile.jpg. People who receive it have the same dream. People who have the dream are told to spread the word.

Jeff and his family had just moved into a new neighborhood. It seemed like any other suburb — quiet streets, friendly neighbors. That was before the bleach. Before the fire. Before Jeff looked in the mirror and smiled for the first time.

During the summer of 2003, my family began noticing something watching us from the tree line at the edge of our property. Pale. Hunched. Moving on all fours.