Creepypasta are short, urban legend-like stories that are easily spread throughout the internet. This includes the Slender Man, the supremely creepy Candle Cove, and my favorite: WHO WAS PHONE? Over the years, I have written a bunch of creepypasta and I thought I would share some here. Because I am bored and I like feedback. (Disclaimer: most of these were written for the Fear Mythos, but you don’t need to know about it to read them.) (Also, I swear, I didn’t see this article until after I posted this, but it is a neat coincidence.)


Jenny Greenteeth

Jenny Greenteeth was a hag o’ the water. She had green skin that was always wet and smily, long dark hair that trailed in the water, and sharp teeth that she used to eat children and the elderly that wandered too close to her river.

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But the world was changing. She could feel it in the air and the water. A new dam dried up her river. She was forced to find ponds and wet grass to hide in, but children were warier now, knew enough not to get near her. The future was closing in on Jenny Greenteeth and soon she would be nothing more than a story.

So she decided to change with the world. She made herself new pink skin and false teeth and then walked into the nearest town. With her new skin and teeth, she was pretty, so she had her pick of husbands. No more hiding in the water, no more eating children. She even changed her name to Jennifer Green.

Over the years, she felt the world each time it changed and she changed with it. She adapted to each situation, each workplace, each year and each day. She had her bumps along the road, her ups and downs, just like any of us, but she saw through them and kept going.

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But sometiems, when she became sad or lonely or when she couldn’t handle the stresses of modern society anymore, she would find a river somewhere and discard her pink skin and her false teeth and then slip into the cool, dark waters.

And then she would patiently wait for someone to wander close.


The Last of the Frost Fairs

They bundled up in heavy coats and boots stuffed with socks. It was February and the air was cold and biting, but they were going outside anyway. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, everyone said. You had to be there. The River Thames had frozen over; the Frost Fair had returned.

The last Frost Fair had been in 1789, twenty five years ago. They hadn’t been born back then; they hadn’t seen it. The entire river, frozen over, boats stuck in the ice. There are tents for drinking and tents for selling meat and processions of entertainers, clowns and jugglers, and even an elephant, the other boy had said.

A real elephant? George (the youngest) asked.

Yes, a real elephant, the boy said. It’s big and gray and it didn’t even crack the ice as it walked across the river.

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They wanted to see the elephant. They wanted to see the jugglers and, even though they had very little money, they brought it with them so they could buy meat and candy and they told each other they would take turns riding the elephant, hugging its back, because that’s what this was really about, that’s what brought them out of their cold house.

They didn’t ask what the boy’s name was. They didn’t ask who his parents were. He just told them about the glories of the frozen river and the Frost Fair and they listened in rapt attention.

You have to see it, the boy had said. It’s the last of the Frost Fairs.

The last? Eddie (the middle child) asked. Why is it the last?

Because it doesn’t get as cold anymore, the boy said. Long ago, there was a great volcanic eruption and dirt was thrown into the air and it stopped the sun from warming everything. It got really cold and the river used to freeze all the time back then.

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The children knew about the cold. It had been their father’s job to get wood for the furnace, but since he died, the furnace had stayed empty. They didn’t know where their mother was — she had walked away from the house one day and never come back.

Long ago, there were lots of Frost Fairs, the boy said with a smile. Long ago, it got really cold, but nobody cared, because there was always a Frost Fair to cheer you up. But the weather’s changing and things are getting warmer again. So this is the last time the river Thames will freeze. This is the last Frost Fair there will ever be. That’s why you must see it now. Before it all goes away.

Wesley (the eldest) was the most suspicious of the boy. He didn’t know why he didn’t trust him, just something in the way he spoke. The way the edges of his smile seemed to crack in the sunlight.

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I’m not sure, Wesley said. It’s dangerous out there. What if something happens to one of us?

There is always the possibility of danger, the boy said. That’s what makes the Frost Fair so intriguing. Look. He handed Wesley a piece of paper with words printed on it, but Wesley couldn’t read. I’ll read it for you:

Behold the Liquid Thames frozen o’re,

That lately Ships of mighty Burthen bore

The Watermen for want of Rowing Boats

Make use of Booths to get their Pence & Groats

Here you may see beef roasted on the spit

And for your money you may taste a bit

There you may print your name, tho cannot write

Cause num’d with cold: tis done with great delight

And lay it by that ages yet to come

May see things upon the ice were done.

Wesley’s mouth fell open at the words. When he listened to the boy say them, he could see the Frost Fair in his mind, the open tents filled with beef roasting, the fat glistening, the smell wafting for all. It wasn’t the elephant that captured his fancy; it was the meat and how it made his mouth water.

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So they bundled up in their warmest clothes and they let the boy lead them to Blackfriars Bridge, to the river frozen o’re.

And they looked out upon the river and they saw an even greater spectacle then what they had imagined. George and Eddie didn’t see one elephant, but rather a dozen of them walking in a circle, riders in magnificent coats upon their backs. And Wesley saw tents filled with every type of meat imaginable: pigs and chickens and lambs, their skins being roasted over pits of fire. The sight of it made his mouth water and all three children stepped out onto the river at the same time.

None noticed that the boy wasn’t with them anymore.

None had a chance to see the water beneath their feet. Not ice, not anymore.

The last of the Frost Fairs had come and gone. It had lasted four days and then was over. There had been one elephant. That much was true.

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But that was weeks ago. The river had gone back to being a river. The water churned. They stepped and fell and all three children found themselves in a place of coldness, a place where the water seeped into their clothes and their skin. It wasn’t frozen, but it was cold enough.

It was cold enough.

The boy grinned as he stepped across Blackfriars Bridge. That had been the last of the Frost Fairs, true enough, and the weather had changed. But the boy would never change. He would find another way to reach into their hearts. He would always find another way.