Jzt Stories

Whenever he gets off work at 7pm, he goes to the local bar to ease his mind. One night after returning home late, the man wakes up to feel a cold hand gripping his ankle under the bed. He freezes, too scared to move. The next morning, he finds five finger-shaped bruises on his skin and a note under his bed that reads, “If you keep getting home late, I’ll be here all night.”"

Sarah was alone in her house during a stormy night when she heard tapping on the back door. Investigating, she saw a shadow move across the glass, just before the power went out, the house plunged into darkness. As she tried to call for help, she heard wet footsteps and a chilling whisper:  "I’m already inside." Terrified, she grabbed a knife and fled to the front door, but the whisper followed her, taunting,  "You’ll never find me." She managed to escape and ran to a neighbor’s house, where the police were called. They searched her home but found no intruder or signs of forced entry. However, as they left, an officer noticed a single word scrawled on the wall:  "Always." In the master bedroom, the closet door, which Sarah was certain had been closed, was now slightly open.

The old woman sat on the park bench, watching the children play. A smile crept across her wrinkled face as she remembered her own childhood. But then, a dark figure emerged from the shadows. It was a man, tall and gaunt, with a face that seemed to be carved from stone. He moved with a purpose that sent shivers down her spine. The man stopped in front of her, his eyes cold and empty. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a knife, its blade glinting in the afternoon sun. The old woman's smile vanished, replaced by a look of terror. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. With a swift, practiced motion, the man plunged the knife into her chest. The old woman's eyes widened in disbelief as she felt the cold steel pierce her heart. She gasped, her lifeblood staining the park bench a dark crimson.The man watched as the light faded from her eyes, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. He pulled the knife from her chest, wiping it clean on her dress. Then, he turned ...

In a small forgotten town, there was a legend about the "Whispering Well." It was said that if you leaned over the edge and listened closely, you could hear the voices of the dead. Most dismissed it as a silly tale, but one night, curious and alone, Lin decided to try it. She approached the well under the pale glow of the moon. The air was still, and the only sound was the faint rustle of leaves. Lin leaned over the edge, her heart pounding. At first, there was nothing. Then, faintly, she heard it—a whisper, so soft it was almost inaudible. "Help me..." Lin jerked back, her breath quickening. She told herself it was just the wind, but the voice came again, clearer this time. "Lin... help me..." Terrified, she stumbled away from the well, but the voice followed her, growing louder and more desperate. When she reached her house, she locked the doors and windows, but the whispers didn't stop. They filled her ears, her mind, until she couldn't tell if ...

It was 3:07 a.m. when James jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. The room was pitch black, the kind of darkness that felt heavy. He reached for his phone on the bedside table, but his hand brushed against something else—a piece of paper. Confused, he turned on the flashlight and read the note scrawled in jagged handwriting: "Don’t look under the bed." James froze. He lived alone. No one else had a key to his apartment. His breath quickened as he scanned the room, the shadows stretching and twisting in the dim light. The air felt colder, sharper, as if something was watching him. He tried to convince himself it was a prank, maybe a friend playing a cruel joke. But deep down, he knew better. The handwriting was unfamiliar, and the paper smelled faintly of mildew, like it had been buried for years. Against his better judgment, James leaned over the edge of the bed, his pulse roaring in his ears. The flashlight trembled in his hand as he pointed it downward. At first, h...

Ellie hated working the night shift at the old department store. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting long shadows across the empty aisles. But the worst part was the manikins. Dozens of them stood frozen in eerie poses, their blank eyes staring into nothingness. Tonight, something felt off. As Ellie restocked shelves, she kept catching movement in the corner of her eye. She’d turn, only to find the manikins exactly where they were supposed to be. Still, their expressions seemed… different. Sharper. Almost hungry. By midnight, her nerves were frayed. She decided to take her break in the staff room, but as she turned the corner, she froze. One of the manikins, a tall, slender figure with a too-wide smile, was standing in the hallway. It hadn’t been there before. Ellie’s breath hitched. She backed away, but the manikin’s head jerked toward her, its glass eyes glinting under the flickering lights. She bolted for the exit, her heart pounding, but the doors were locked. When she t...

The invitation arrived in a plain black envelope, sealed with crimson wax. Inside, elegant script read: "You are cordially invited to a night of exquisite dining. Come alone. 8 PM sharp." There was no return address, only a location. A secluded mansion on the edge of town. Curiosity got the better of me. I arrived at the mansion precisely at 8 PM, dressed in my finest suit. The door creaked open before I could knock, revealing a dimly lit foyer. A butler, pale and gaunt, greeted me with a silent bow and led me to the dining room. The table was set for two. Crystal glasses gleamed, silverware sparkled, and a single candelabra cast flickering shadows on the walls. The air was heavy with the scent of herbs and something metallic. I took my seat, and moments later, my host entered. He was tall, impeccably dressed, and unnervingly calm. His smile was too wide, his eyes too bright. "Thank you for coming," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Tonight's menu is... u...

A group of campers arrived at the remote site just before sunset. As they set up their tents, one of them noticed strange carvings on the trees—shallow, jagged lines that seemed to form words.  "Don't stay after dark, or you’ll be picked" one read" They laughed it off, but as night fell, the forest grew unnaturally quiet. No crickets, no wind—just the faint sound of whispers. At first, they thought it was their imagination, but the whispers grew louder, closer, until they seemed to come from inside the tents. By dawn, the campers were gone. The only trace left was a single tent, zipped shut from the inside, its walls covered in fresh carvings: "We tried to warn you."

A woman noticed a man smiling at her from across the train platform every day. At first, she thought it was just a friendly gesture, but over time, his smile began to feel unsettling. His eyes never left hers, and his grin seemed too wide, too forced. One day, she decided to smile back, thinking it might ease the tension.   The next morning, the news reported a serial killer had been frequenting that station. The description matched the smiling man perfectly. Authorities revealed that he would smile at his victims to lure them into a false sense of security before attacking. The woman never saw him again, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that his smile was still watching her from the shadows. Several days after, she began to see shoe marks right next to her bed. Out of sheer fear of the unknown, she called the police for help. After a couple search of the house, they discovered someone has been sleeping underneath the bed. The woman was relocated for her own safety while more inv...

Dave's car broke down a few miles away from the nearest town. It was almost nightfall, so he figured if he started walking, he'd reach the town in about an hour. A few steps away from his car, Dave saw another man dressed in a suit and a fancy hat who offered to walk alongside him. During their short time together, the man talked a lot about his family and friends whom he hadn't seen in years. The man seemed friendly and a bit chatty, so he carried most of the conversation. Upon reaching the edge of town, the man parted ways with Dave but not before saying, "You know where to go from here, right?" Dave said yes and thanked the man for accompanying him. Dave pulled out his wallet to show the man a little more appreciation, but before he could utter another word, the man was gone. He looked around for traces of the man but couldn't find any. It was as if he had just disappeared. Feeling a sudden wave of fear from the man's disappearance, Dave hastily walked ...