Tag: NoSleep | zests.ai

#NoSleep

philip21

My Dead Neighbor’s TV Won’t Stop Calling My Name.

Mr. Langston died in his sleep. Natural causes, they said. His power was cut. His door locked. But at 2:13 AM, his TV blares static. I know because I’ve timed it. Every night. The same deafening hiss—the kind old tube TVs made when nothing was on. I knocked once. The second my fist touched the door, silence. Like it heard me. Last night, I recorded it. Slowed it down. Beneath the white noise, a whisper. My name. Clear as a breath against glass. The landlord says the apartment’s empty. But something’s still watching game shows in there. #GlitchInTheMatrix #NoSleep #YouCantExplainThis

amercer

The Girl Came Back Wrong

They told me to find a missing girl. I found the cellar first. Stone walls. Iron hooks. The word "ALIVE" scratched in chalk. Then the whispers started. My own voice on recordings I didn’t make: "She’s in the orchard." The night I saw her, she was barefoot in a nightgown, grinning in my torchlight. Clean. Unhurt. "The man in the cellar was nice," she said later. "He didn’t have a face." They closed the case. Called it a miracle. But the last recording is still on my phone. My voice, frantic: "She’s not the same." And hers, giggling: "Neither are you." (I check my reflection a lot now. Just to be sure.) #NoSleep #TrueCrime #SomethingIsOff

whitekimberly

I Played the Game. Now Everything Is Gone.

It started with coffee. I picked "coffee" from the unknown number’s text. Woke up to a world where coffee never existed. My favorite barista stared at me like I was insane when I ordered my usual. Then it asked: "Luna or Sol?" I chose Luna. My dog vanished. No broken windows. No open doors. Just... gone. The next one came with a threat: "Mom or Dad?" I refused to answer. They found Mom’s car abandoned three days later. Now, as I lie here drunk and shaking, the latest message glows on my screen: "Spine or Skull?" I didn’t choose. But something under my door is clicking—like bone on hardwood. (It’s almost 3 AM. The phone just buzzed again.) #NoSleep #ChooseYourNightmare #GlitchInTheMatrix

tyronejackson

I Ignored the Signs. Then It Grabbed Me.

I told myself it was stress. The sleep paralysis, the shadow in the doorway—just my mind, I thought. The doctor agreed. But then it touched me. One night, something yanked my arm hard enough to pull me halfway off the bed. I felt fingers—cold, solid—digging into my wrist. No dream. No haze. Just terror. I stayed. Stupid, right? Lease was almost up. Then the scratches. Woke up paralyzed, something pressing into my spine. Hot breath on my neck. Then—pain. Three claw marks, raw and red, raked down my back. I left that night. Slept on couches until my enlistment ended. Sometimes I still check doorways before bed. Waiting for that melting shadow to step forward. (First post. Be gentle. It’s harder to write than I thought.) #NoSleep #MilitaryLife #ThingsIDontTellPeople

danielwilliams

They Opened the Sealed Apartment. It Wasn’t Empty.

For 20 years, Apartment 4B stayed locked. Not abandoned. *Contained.* The landlord’s son broke the rusted padlock last Friday. The door creaked open—just a crack. Silence swallowed the world. Cold poured out like liquid nitrogen. Then the *black ash* came. Not smoke. Not dust. Fine, lightless particles drifting lazily, coating the floor. And the *sound*—a cosmic sigh, the death rattle of a universe. I looked inside. No walls. No floor. Just infinite void. Distant stars *guttering out*, one by one. The heat death of everything. The landlord whispered: *"It’s not an apartment. It’s the end."* I ran. But I can’t unsee it. The dark feels different now. (Don’t ask about sealed doors. Some things stay locked for a reason.) #NoSleep #UrbanHorror #DontLookInside

tammysimmons

The Dolls Watched Us. Then The Clown Appeared.

We called it the Creepy Doll House. Two porcelain dolls, frozen in a second-floor window, staring down at the street. The place was abandoned—foreclosed, neighbors said. Bank-owned. Empty. Until the clown showed up. One afternoon, a mask appeared in the front window. White face. Red grin. Watching where the doorbell rang during our ding-dong ditches. We asked around. No squatters. No workers. Just a hollow house with dolls upstairs… and now a clown below. The family who lives there now has no idea. But I still bike past slower sometimes, eyes glued to that window. (Some doors stay empty for a reason.) #ChildhoodHorror #Unexplained #NoSleep

Gabrielle Garrett

The Pool Had No Bottom. Then It Had No Door.

I kill people for a living. But this job? Wrong from the start. The pool was supposed to be private. Small. One door, no windows. Easy. Then she dove in—and the water turned black. The door vanished. The walls vanished. Just me, treading in endless dark. Her voice came from everywhere: "Try not to let it find you." I laughed at first. I don’t scare easy. But then I felt something brush my leg. Not her. Bigger. (It’s been hours. The water’s getting colder. I think it’s circling.) #NoSleep #HiredToKill #SomethingIsWrong

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