CreepyPasta Delight

Exclusive stories only on Patreon — ⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠Watch on YouTube — ⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠Author - https://www.reddit.com/user/gamalfrank/Original story - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1qs7t5r/the_most_important_rule_at_my_job_is_to_never/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_buttonOriginal story title - The most important rule at my job is to never create a physical record. I found what the last person in my position wrote, and I think I'm in danger. The job seemed simple. Study a photograph for eight hours. Memorize every detail. Watch it burn. No records, no questions, no exceptions. The salary was more than my parents made combined, and I was desperate enough not to ask why they needed someone with a photographic memory to stare at old images until they were ash. I told myself it was archival work. I told myself the dreams were just stress. I told myself the man I recognized from a 1970s photograph — the one who ran when he saw my face — was a coincidence. The notes I found hidden in my colleague's locker say otherwise. They're getting out.

Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠⁠⁠⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠Dr. Elena Marsh spent fifteen years applying scientific rigor to the world of folklore, but northern Ontario in January does not care for PhDs. Deep in the frozen bush, she tracked a legend that the local Anishinaabe warned was born of pure greed. Now, sixty miles from civilization, the temperature has dropped to minus thirty-two, and the weight is falling off her bones despite everything she eats. The forest has gone silent, the trail cameras are moving on their own, and the voices of the dead are calling her name from the tree line. Every window in the cabin reflects a face that is no longer hers. There is no more room for documentation because the hunger has finally begun to feed on the researcher. Someone is screaming outside, and the worst part is realizing it sounds like an invitation.You'll notice gameplay footage running under my narrations now — recorded by me exclusively for this channel. I hope it adds to the viewing experience.

Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠⁠You'll notice gameplay footage running under my narrations now — recorded by me exclusively for this channel. I hope it adds to the viewing experience.The silence of a suburban house at 3:00 AM is a heavy, suffocating weight. For a new mother, the baby monitor is the only lifeline, turning a nursery into a grainy, green landscape of shadows. But three nights ago, the white noise cut out, replaced by a wet, clicking whisper that spoke of snapping bones to fit into small spaces. On the screen, the crib is empty, yet the rocking chair moves with a rhythmic, ghostly creak. Something is unfolding from the corners of the ceiling, a jagged shape with too many joints and a hunger that cannot be sated. My husband is at the door, smiling and wearing his favorite shirt, but his shadow on the pavement is long, broken, and wrong. He is turning the key now, and I realize that some things don't need an open door to get inside.

Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠⁠Welcome to Skully's Sinister Stories Vol. 4Some calls should never be answered.In this volume of Skully’s Sinister Stories, we follow law enforcement into places that don’t want witnesses. A back road that erases memory. A district that feeds on the forgotten. A town that only exists when someone is there to observe it.Three police horror stories. Three calls that changed everything.You'll notice gameplay footage running under my narrations now — recorded by me exclusively for this podcast. I hope it adds to the viewing experience.

Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠⁠⁠Audible Free Book - ⁠https://www.audibletrial.com/SKULLY⁠Fiverr Sign Up - ⁠https://www.fiverr.com/pe/6dQj2X⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkullyA seasoned night security guard accepts a high-paying job watching an abandoned zoo deep in East Texas—thirty nights, no questions asked. What begins as quiet patrols through rusted enclosures and overgrown paths slowly unravels into something far more unsettling as patterns emerge, rules tighten, and the truth behind the property comes into focus. As the nights pass, the line between observation and survival blurs, and leaving may no longer be an option. This slow-burn No Sleep Horror Story blends abandoned places horror, night security dread, and creature feature tension, exploring isolation, buried histories, and what happens when a place was never meant to be empty.

Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkullyThis file documents SCP-173 using two recovered testimonies tied to a fatal transport incident. Official reports cite personnel error and equipment failure. The testimonies show a decision made under pressure—where protocol was reduced, warnings were filed, and risk was deemed acceptable.This archive exists to preserve what the final report omits: how institutional decisions translate into human cost.SCP-173 did not fail.The system did.

Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkullyWelcome to Skully’s Ominous Stories.A long-form horror compilation featuring atmospheric, unsettling stories meant for late-night listening. These narrations focus on tension, isolation, and dread — not cheap scares.Listen straight through or let it play in the background. Either way, these stories tend to linger.

⁠Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠Taking a night security job at a closed Chuck E. Cheese sounds like a bad joke—until the rules start making sense. What begins as an easy overnight shift quickly turns into something ritualistic, mechanical, and deeply wrong. The building doesn’t feel empty after closing; it feels aware. Old security footage plays when it shouldn’t. The animatronics don’t always stay on stage. And the rules aren’t about safety—they’re about survival. As the night drags on, it becomes clear the job was never meant to be temporary. Some roles don’t end when the shift does, and some places don’t let their employees leave.

⁠Support on Patreon for more stories - https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130Listen on YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkullyThis file documents SCP-096 using recovered testimonies related to a containment failure and the consequences of visual exposure to the entity. Official reports reduce the incident to procedural error. The testimonies reveal context those reports omit.This archive exists to preserve what the Foundation does not—decision-making, institutional pressure, and the human cost behind containment. SCP-096 is where the archive begins.

⁠Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠Driving overnight for DoorDash in a snowbound small town is easy money—until one house starts ordering every night at exactly 3:33 AM. The order never changes. The instructions never change. And the house is always waiting.Perfectly shoveled. Watched by cameras that don’t face inward. A silent woman behind the glass. Sounds from somewhere you’re not supposed to look.As the deliveries continue, the job stops feeling routine and starts feeling deliberate. Someone is watching. Someone is listening. And whatever lives at the edge of town doesn’t just place orders—it follows rules.

⁠Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠A rookie cop in rural Ohio is handed a secret patrol guide filled with impossible rules—deer-headed hitchhikers, faceless drivers, sirens that summon things in the corn. At first, the rules feel like superstition. Then they start working. But the deeper he goes, the clearer it becomes: the fear isn’t protecting officers from monsters—it’s blinding them to the truth. As his training officer breaks rank, the rookie must choose between survival and exposure. This is a story about manufactured horror, institutional rot, and what happens when the scariest rules exist to keep good people quiet.

⁠⁠Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠I went into the Arizona desert looking for solitude. I came back with questions no one wants answered. What started as a simple hiking trip through Coyote Ridge became something far darker after I met two strangers on the trail—one of whom never quite acted human. He didn’t blink. He didn’t sweat. He knew things he shouldn’t have known. The deeper we went into the desert, the more the land itself seemed to watch us. This isn’t a story about monsters jumping out of the dark. It’s about the quiet moments when you realize something is walking beside you… wearing a familiar face.

⁠Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠After installing a Ring doorbell to catch package thieves, I started getting motion alerts at 3 AM. The footage showed people standing at my door—but their faces were wrong. Too wide. Too stretched. Features in almost the right places but not quite. Each night they came back, different ones, just standing there. Watching. Waiting. Then my elderly neighbor appeared on camera, terrified and begging for help. Something was behind him, gripping his shoulder. I had seconds to decide: open the door and save him, or stay safe inside. I made my choice. It was the wrong one.Get Patreon only stories and support us here - https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130

⁠Support on Patreon (Exclusive bonus stories)⁠⁠⁠Listen on YouTube Welcome to Skully's Sinister Stories Vol.3The night shift isn’t quiet—it’s watching.In this volume of Skully’s Sinister Stories, three night-shift jobs turn into waking nightmares. A storage unit that should never be opened. A morgue where death isn’t the end. A clinic that profits from desperation.These stories live in the hours after midnight.

Support on Patreon ⁠(Exclusive bonus stories)A woman seeking solitude in her inherited rural farmhouse, only to be unraveled by relentless insomnia and a nightly awakening at exactly 3:00 AM. What begins as exhaustion turns into something far more unsettling as patterns emerge—patterns tied to the house, her family, and a presence that waits patiently in the dark. As the nights grow longer and the boundaries between memory, instinct, and fear begin to blur, she discovers that some legacies aren’t meant to be inherited. And some doors, once noticed, were never meant to be answered.

Support on Patreon (Exclusive bonus stories) - ⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠⁠ On his first night as a Spirit Halloween night-shift lead, James is handed a laminated list of rules he’s told never to break. They seem absurd—until the animatronics start speaking in voices they shouldn’t, and the fog at the back of the store becomes the only thing holding something at bay. Trapped overnight in a dead mall inside a repurposed department store, James begins to realize this location isn’t just seasonal retail. It’s a place where failed businesses leave more than memories behind—and where breaking the rules doesn’t get you fired. It gets you stocked.

Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠The mortuary has been in my family for four generations, passed down quietly, without explanation. I always assumed that meant tradition, reputation, responsibility. Then a body was discovered sealed beneath a condemned house—perfectly preserved, wrapped using a method my family abandoned decades ago. As I examine her, I uncover records my father never wanted me to see and preparations that were never meant to end. Some legacies aren’t about honoring the dead. Some are about keeping something contained. And once you understand what the basement was built for, you realize the inheritance was never optional.

Support on Patreon (Exclusive bonus stories) - https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130 Michael Reeves is living the dream—Hollywood's biggest star, wealth beyond measure, a perfect family. But two years ago, he was a broke, failed actor desperate to provide for his newborn daughter. Then came an Uber ride that changed everything. A ride with a driver who knew too much. Who offered too much. Now, from a hotel room in Prague, Michael is writing his confession. Because the price of fame wasn't what he thought. The favors are getting darker. And he's running out of time before he becomes something that can no longer tell right from wrong.

Support on Patreon (Exclusive bonus stories) - https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130 I’ve worked overnight at Distribution Center 7 long enough to know that some rules aren’t about safety—they’re about survival. Most of them are easy to follow if you don’t ask questions. Don’t touch certain totes. Don’t go into certain aisles. Don’t look too closely at how the machines behave after midnight. I broke one rule trying to help someone I cared about, and now I understand what this place really does with its workers. I’m writing this before I lose the ability to explain it in my own words. If your job ever gives you rules that don’t make sense, follow them. They’re not there for your protection.

Support on Patreon for more stories - ⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/cw/Skully130⁠⁠Listen on YouTube - ⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@SinisterSkully⁠I went to Millbrook, Maryland as a journalist chasing my big break—a story about the unsolved Wolfman killings that had haunted the area for years. Seven victims, all found mutilated during autumn full moons. The locals warned me to leave. I should have listened. Instead, I followed the trail deeper into the woods, into secrets that a small town had kept buried for generations. What  I found wasn't just a killer. It was something far worse—something that transforms you, piece by piece, until you can't remember who you were before you put on the mask.