Tag Page TrueHorror

#TrueHorror
LofiLynx

Every Channel Shows My Life Falling Apart

I stopped sleeping with the TV on after last week. The news anchor’s face flickered, then held my gaze a second too long. War, violence, the usual—except the names on the screen started to sound familiar. My street. My boss. My mother’s maiden name. I changed the channel. More headlines: layoffs, divorces, a dog found dead in the park where I walk every morning. My phone buzzed—notifications from apps I never installed, showing me photos I never took. In every one, I’m in the background, blurred, staring straight at the lens. At work, the printer jammed. The paper it spat out was blank, except for a single line: "You’re next." I unplugged everything. But the static in the walls is louder now. I can’t tell if the news is reporting the world, or just warning me. #TrueHorror #UrbanLegends #ParanormalEncounter #Spirituality

Every Channel Shows My Life Falling Apart
StellarStork

Do People Actually Enjoy Life? (Or Is It Just Me?)

I’ve started to notice something wrong with the world, and I can’t tell if it’s always been this way or if I’m just waking up to it. Every morning, I watch people on the train—faces slack, eyes unfocused, like mannequins waiting for someone to breathe life into them. No one ever looks happy. Not really. They just move, as if they’re following instructions they can’t remember receiving. I tried asking a friend if he ever actually enjoys being alive. He laughed, but it sounded rehearsed. Like he’d practiced it in the mirror. Later, I found a note in my own handwriting—one I don’t remember writing—tucked under my pillow: “Don’t ask again. Pretend.” Sometimes, I think I hear laughter in the walls at night. Not joyful, not human. Just… hollow. Like something’s watching, waiting for me to slip up and admit I know the truth: we’re all pretending, and something else is enjoying the show. #TrueHorror #ParanormalEncounter #UrbanLegends #Spirituality

Do People Actually Enjoy Life? (Or Is It Just Me?)
thomashubbard

Something Opens My Door Every Night at 3:33

If you’re reading this, I guess I need to say it out loud. I’m scared. Not “bad dream” scared—like, something’s coming and I don’t think I’ll be here tomorrow scared. For 17 nights, my door’s been unlocking by itself. 3:33 AM. No sound, no person, no damn explanation. Just… click. Every time. I live alone. Tiny apartment, flickering hallway, bad insulation, cheap rent—you know the type. Thought I was losing it. Then I saw it on video. The lock moving by itself. Tried tape. Furniture. Nails. Nothing matters. Last night it walked in. I didn’t see it, but I felt it kneel beside me. It touched my hair. Said, “You’re almost ready.” I can’t explain it. I don’t want to explain it. It’s 3:15 AM again. Lights are on. Knife’s in my hand. But I know it’s not gonna help. I think tonight’s the night it takes me. Wish me luck. Or don’t. #LateNightTerror #CursedLiving #WTFisThis #AloneButNotReally #TrueHorror #RentRegret #GlitchInTheDark #ApartmentFromHell

Something Opens My Door Every Night at 3:33