Sometimes, we can’t resist doing things that give us goosebumps. Maybe it’s climbing somewhere high, facing a creepy clown, or diving into scary stories that send shivers down your spine.

And today, we’ve rounded up exactly that—people online are answering the chilling question: “What are some of the most horrifying or creepy campfire (or real-life) stories you’ve ever heard?” From bone-chilling ghost encounters to eerie real-life experiences that sound straight out of a horror movie, these stories will have you double-checking the locks tonight. So grab a blanket, maybe keep the lights on… and keep scrolling if you dare.

#1

I always liked the quick ones.

There was a young girl playing in her room one day when she heard a voice that sounded like her mother’s from the kitchen.

“Sweetie, come down here.”

The little girl jumped up and ran out the door where she suddenly ran into her mother at the top of the stairs. Her mother reached out and quickly covered the girls mouth so she couldn’t make a sound.

“Don’t go down there, I heard it too,” she said.

Image credits: thesandiegan

#2

The last man on earth sat in a room. There was a knock on the door.

Image credits: anon

#3

There was a Brit who was driving through Ireland as the weather got progressively worse and day soon turned to night.

He suddenly realised that he was on the wrong road but there was nowhere to turn around – so he pressed on, barely able to see the road through the rain.

Without warning, his car just died. No battery, no engine. He assumed water must have shorted something and he’d best start walking.

He was soaking wet in a hundred yards but he continued walking.

An hour later, he heard a noise behind him and turned to see a car coming very slowly up the road behind him – its lights very dim.

As it reaches him he reaches out through the torrential rain and opens the back door and jumps in.

Shocked – He is the only person in the car. There is no-one driving and no other passengers. He freezes with fear as the car slowly continues up the road through the pouring rain.

Before long a village comes into view and the car creeps silently and slowly into the village. The Brit spies a pub so he jumps out and runs inside – not looking back!

Panting with horror – he orders a beer and sits down.

A minute later two soaking wet Irishmen come into the pub. The taller one points at the Brit and says “That’s him Paddy. That’s the b*****d I saw jump out of the car we were pushing…”.

Image credits: shadow125

There’s nothing quite like a good campfire, is there? The flames dancing, wood crackling, marshmallows roasting—it’s basically nature’s version of Netflix. Whether you’re out camping in the woods, chilling by the beach on a breezy night, or just hanging out at summer camp, the vibes are unbeatable. Something about that warm glow against the dark sky makes you forget about time altogether.

The magic of a campfire is that it works for everyone. For kids, it feels like an adventure straight out of a storybook. For adults, it’s a wave of nostalgia mixed with pure relaxation. You laugh louder, stories get funnier, and even silence feels comforting when you’re huddled around those flames. Campfires aren’t just firewood and sparks; they’re a tradition, a ritual, and honestly, one of the best ways to end any day outdoors.

#4

So a story I always tell around a campfire that I think is quite spooky is the legend of el silbon (the whistling ghost) it’s a Venezuelan folk tale but I have a tradition of telling it. Anyway the legend goes that on cold dark nights in remote places especially in south america a whistle can be heard coming down the road. At first it will seem loud like its right next to you but as time passes it begins to fade and get more and more quiet until its almost gone. The trick is as el silbons whistle gets louder he’s further away and when he’s right next to you the whistle is very faint and sounds like its far away. Once el silbon is at your doorstep he will sit down and begin to count the skulls of his victims and you have to listen to him count every single skull or one of your family members will die soon after and become one of his skulls. El silbon is said to dress like a farmer with a large straw hat, torn clothes, ghostly aura and a pale dead face.
Its not that scary but its interesting.

Image credits: flackey07

#5

A camper found pictures of them sleeping on their phone.

Image credits: LazerWolfe53

#6

I dont really know of a name for this but besides the ones you hear in elementary school like black box and the one with the girl and the dog, this is the one i know the best thats actually scary.

a group of hikers were wandering through to woods looking for a place to stay at night when they came across a small cabin. they all decide to stay the night inside, seeing as there was no one there. inside, the cabin is decorated with paintings of what seemed to be members of the family that used to own the cabin. the hikers spend the night looking at the paintings and making fun of how wonky they looked. in the morning, one wakes up to see the cabin full of morning light, and looks around. the paintings are gone, in their place, windows.

Image credits: Well_Then1088

Of course, no campfire is complete without storytelling. Stories are the heart and soul of any campfire gathering. They’re what transform an ordinary fire into a memorable night. From spooky ghost tales that send shivers down your spine to lighthearted jokes and funny life experiences, storytelling brings people closer and keeps the energy alive.

#7

The dark watchers. Specific to Pico Blanco Scout Reservation. They were the shadows that watch you. Best part was when scouts had to walk back to camp terrified of what was behind the trees.

Image credits: Dracofortes

#8

TYPICAL FILIPINO STORIES:

* Almost all schools are Catholic schools in my country and they’re either built over a cemetery and/or used to be a barracks/hospital during WW2.

* Maria Labo – Though I think this one is just from our island but I do remember reading about it in a national horror magazine so it must’ve spread. Poor woman goes to London to work as a caregiver, she comes back as an aswang/ghoul. Cooks up her children, her husband finds out and slices her face with a “labo” or machete. Now she roams the countryside searching for her next meal.This caused so much panic in my town that the radio station had to issue a statement that it was just a folk tale.

* Tiyanak – If you’re out hiking in the woods during dusk or night and you hear a baby crying, do not help it, just run away. It will eat you.

Image credits: 426763

#9

Late at night, two doctors are finishing their shift at the hospital. As they get in the elevator, an elderly woman in patient’s gown waves at them to wait but the older doctor lets the door close.
“Why didn’t you wait for her?” asks the other doctor.

“Didn’t you see her blue ID bracelet? That’s a morgue tag!”.

Image credits: ChangeNew389

Ghost stories, in particular, are an old favorite. The flickering flames and dark backdrop make them even more thrilling. Kids lean in with wide eyes, adults chuckle nervously, and everyone secretly enjoys the goosebumps. And when the tension breaks into laughter, the bonds around the fire only grow stronger.

#10

I love this one short and just creepy enough:

I had a roommate/friend of mine in college decided one summer to solo hike through a bunch of Colorado. He’s kinda odd. He’s one of those kinda people that automatically thinks old stuff is better, that will only takes photos on film, and has a ridiculous record collection. But he’s also pretty experienced camper so no one was very worried about him. It’s kinda a “soul searching” thing for him. But anyway, he goes off for two month and he comes back and he’s telling me about his trip. “It was amazing… just out in nature… so many stars” that kind of stuff. And also, “there were a couple days I felt like I was being watched, but I never met anyone on the trail. Super weird. I even thought I saw someone, but nope” A couple days later he gets his photos from the local film developer he uses. And he gets back to the apartment and shows me the photos like he always does, but he seems… off? I’m looking through the photos, and there are beautiful landscapes, his camp set up, his breakfast, and then right in the middle of their are 4 photos of him in his sleeping bag… sleeping.

Image credits: TheCmar7

#11

You ever notice when the fires going you cant help but stare at it?
It’s called the Devil’s distraction.

Image credits: anon

#12

I hope I recall correctly. I’ll summarize:

There’s this creature who follows people around and takes the appearance of other women in large groups. When she gets one man alone she’ll come up close to him and get cozy. At that time she’ll pick him as her prey and make sure to stay nearby. When everyone retires to bed she’ll sneak into his tent/cabin and k**l him.

When I tell this story I’ll pick a moment to stop, step away to grab something or excuse myself to the bathroom, and come back. I’ll make it a point to sit closer than I did before to some designated male. Occasionally if he’s in on the joke with me, he’ll wake up at some random time to scream as loud as humanly possible. It’ll always be over something rly arbitrary like a thing looking like a snake, or a night terror. Usually I’ll be running that skit solo, and the eeriness of such a simple sequence of actions is usually enough to put everyone on edge.

Image credits: rzrbladess

But campfire nights aren’t only about scary stories. They’re also about fun, food, and games. One of the biggest highlights, without a doubt, is making s’mores. Gooey marshmallows roasted to perfection, sandwiched between chocolate and graham crackers, are messy, delicious, and absolutely essential. 

#13

I was in high school living with my sister and brother in law. One day I got home from school and went down into the basement to my room (It was a big old house). My sister and brother in laws room was down the hall from mine and as im putting all my school stuff down I heard my sister say “Help me please”. So naturally I yell back “Im coming!”. I ran across the hall to their room to find…Nothing. No one. It all clicked in an instant that my sisters car wasnt in the driveway and I was home alone… Im sure there are logical explanations for all the things that happened in that house, but I was very happy to eventually move out.

Image credits: Grossman006

#14

This teenage girl was asked to babysit for a couple while they went out on a date. She had just put the baby to sleep and its around like 9 or 10pm and the babysitter decides to go upstairs to watch TV. On the chair in the corner of the room is a clown “mannequin” sitting down. Being creeped out by it she decided to text the homeowners and asked if she could move it to the closet. The homeowners texted back saying “We don’t have a clown.” So the babysitter walks towards it and sees it’s breathing. She runs downstairs to the baby’s room and dials 911. Turns out some guy had escaped from a physicatric hospital a few days before and hadn’t been found yet. He snuck through the master bedroom balcony thinking it was his mom’s house and wanted to surprise her because his mother had taken him to the circus as a child.

Image credits: Nik_tortor

#15

Gosh, lets see if I can recall it correctly.

There was a body of a fairly large person, once found in the woods. They were quickly killed, and there was nothing extremely off about the scene, except he had half of his pointer, ring, and pinky finger all missing from his left hand. No one could find the missing fingers, and they never found any clues. A few weeks later, another body was found, another man who was a bit smaller than the previous guy. Same situation, quickly killed, and 3 fingers missing all from the left hand, and still no clues.

A few more weeks went by, and this time it was a woman who was found, smaller than the second guy found, same fingers missing from the same hand. This went on for a while, with the victims getting smaller and smaller, until it was kids bodies being found. One teenagers body though, only had the ring finger and pinky finger removed. The police found a fingerprint at this crime scene, and they found it matched the prints from a theft record from the previous victim.

The guy telling the story then told the kids that the killer was searching to replace his fingers, and so far, he had yet to see if the fingers of children their age would fit. He then took off his glove, showing he had a scarred pointer finger and was missing half his ring and pinky finger, and then lunged at the kids while screaming.

He later told the kids he lost the two in a work accident, and doctors were able to save his very mangled pointer finger. He told this story every year at camp.

Image credits: SoonToBeStardust

Beyond food, games add another layer of joy. Charades around the fire, for example, become extra fun under the glow of firelight. Shadows make movements exaggerated, guesses get sillier, and laughter echoes into the night. It’s the kind of simple joy that people remember long after the camping trip is over.

#16

Ive posted this before.

One year, a group of us went camping in Kearney, Ontario, where we always go camping. Whenever we go, we always form our tents in a big circle, with the fire pit in the middle of us. We’ve been drinking, smoking a few joints and a few of us were tripping balls on shrooms.

The first night we were there, this guy randomly walks into our circle, introduces himself (I can’t remember the name he gave), that he was in the military and decided to take some vacation to camp out a bit. He asked if he could join our fire, as it was getting late and he didnt buy any firewood.

Being the friendly s****d people we are, we let him join our fire. He even pitched in some money for the firewood. The night went on and we all were having a good time. One by one, our group started heading off to bed, me being either the 2nd or 3rd. I remember waking up to the sound of someone talking and the fire being started, it was 4 in the morning. I peeped out my tent and saw the random just sitting on a log by the fire, talking to himself.

Still tripping on shrooms, i thought to myself i am in no condition to deal with this and chalked it up to me just tripping out. I wake up the next day and everyone is still alive (thankfully) and the fire is smouldering.

We look to the next campsite, where the random was staying and it was spotless, no garbage, no tracks in the trail around the site, no nothing. We all started talking about him, just to be sure we all saw him.

Through talking, we managed to figure out that he must not have slept at all, the last 2 of our group passed out just after 330am. The first person got up just after 6am and noticed he was gone.

The rest of the camping trip went well and we all went home. Fast forward maybe 4-5 years, i flip on the news and there is a picture of someone i could swear i recognize. He was arrested for a bunch of crimes, including r**e and murder. Guess who it was? It was the random guy who joined our fire, i don’t know why i remembered his face, but i guess it was just a weird situation where my brain right clicked and saved as a jpeg in my brain.

Now, i have no way of proving if it was the same guy. We didn’t take any pictures of the random, but the picture jump started my memory and made me instantly remember the weird random fire joiner. Either that, or they looked identical to the same person.

Either way, was creepy.

Image credits: Forkliftdriver86

#17

My family had one called ‘the man in the corn’, or ‘beans in the corn’. There was once a hobo who was stealing ears of corn from a local man’s garden. Now food was hard to come by, and someone stealing that which you’re growing was especially frustrating. The man saw the hobo in the garden and fired a shotgun shot over the hobo’s head. The next day, the hobo was back there again stealing ears of corn. The man decided he would teach the hobo a lesson so he poured all the lead shot out of his shotgun shells and filled them with small dry beans.
The very next day the hobo was back in the cornfield again, and the man fired twice on the hobo, and the hobo screamed and ran down the corn rows fast pleading the whole way. The man watched for days, but the hobo was never seen again. Some days later, the man still had ‘bean shells’ in his shotgun, so he aimed at a plank of wood standing over by his well. The plank ripped to pieces!
When the next planting seasons came, the farmer walked his corn field to its far corners, to cut corn husks and prepare to plow. Along the way, he found tiny bean plants coming up through the soil, one here, another there, all lining up to lead him to a big bunch of beans coming up along the edge of the field. When he went to exam the bunch of beans, he first saw shoes souls turned to one side, and then the outline of a body, sank in the mud and soil. He realized he had killed the hobo, and the random beans that had fallen out of his body had sprouted along the way. My Father had bought that particular farm during the war years, and he said for 20 years, random bean plants would show up in that field. Any bean plant that showed up in our garden was given the chance to grown, and one year there was a bean planted that wrapped around a corn stalk; my Father did not harvest the corn ears on that plant.

Image credits: StatOne

#18

The golden arm, or at least the version my mom tells.

A fellow is looking to be married to one of the rich merchant’s daughters to gain the the fortune that would come with her.

Fortunately the merchant had an unmarried daughter still so the fellow begins to court her.
The first thing he noticed is that she had a solid gold right arm, she apparently lost it in a childhood accident and her father had a golden arm forged for her. Seeing this as a sign of extreme wealth he continued with courting her, making her believe he truly loved her and not for her fathers money, in turn she fell deeply in love with him.

They get married and the fellow is given his riches along with part of the merchant business his now father in law owned, thus giving him more money.

However, he soon realized his wife was now of no real use, so he ignored her, gave her gifts and had dinner with her but the love he said he felt had disappeared. Angry and heartbroken the daughter accused him of marrying her for her money, in which he boldly states of course. She was furious, screaming about going to tell her father what a scoundrel he truly was and their riches would be stripped away along with his job. This angered the fellow, after all he worked so hard to get to here, he wasn’t going to let her take it away. So he pushed her down the cellar stairs and let her snap her neck on the stone.

He plead heartbroken to the grief stricken father, losing his most favorite daughter, the fellow’s riches intact. The fellow and family hold a funeral for the daughter and weep and cry.

When it was but him and his dead wife he opened the casket and pulled out a saw, for she did not need her golden arm in the grave.

That night he slept with the arm under his pillow, not wanting even the servants to see it before he melts it down into bars. He slept soundly until a voice like the wind asks

“where’s my golden arm?”

Slow and far away the voice echoed through the sleeping house, so quite he thought it was just a draft. Until the voice came again, closer and louder this time, as it down the hall,

“where’s my golden arm?”

Sitting up the fellow looked around fearfully, too scared to do anything as he hears again much closer,

“where’s my golden arm?”

He felt a heat on his back and a movement from under his pillow, but he was too scared to look away from the door as he hears again, just outside the frame the wail of

“where’s my golden arm?”

It felt like hell fire on his back as he felt the hot metal of the hand on his back, seemly crawling on its own as he watches the door k**b turn.

The maid found his body that morning, face frozen in horror and hair a bright white, hands still clutching the sheets around his body. But the strangest thing was that his dead wife’s golden arm was on his chest, hand wrapped tightly around his throat.

Sorry this is long but this is the first time I’ve written this story out it’s always been verbally told:).

Image credits: birdswithteeth77

Singing songs together is another timeless tradition. It doesn’t matter if anyone is off-key; the spirit of the group matters more than perfect vocals. From classic campfire songs to random tunes everyone knows, the sound of voices blending with the crackle of fire creates an atmosphere that feels both magical and comforting.

#19

I worked as a camp counselor for a few summers and had a great signature ghost story. I don’t really remember too many of the details but the gist was there was some ghost who would k**l you unless you gave him two of your teeth and told him two other names of people to k**l.

It was a fine story but the real kicker came at the end of the night. When all my baby teeth had been replaced with adult teeth, two of them never came in and were missing. For a few years I had a retainer with two fake teeth to fill the gaps. Before sending the kids off to bed I would pop the retainer out in secret and give them a big old toothy smile. Scared the absolute bejeesus out of the little buggers every time.

Image credits: RickyRacksICU

#20

The lore of my cottage that my great great uncle watches over it. Mostly because I saw an apparition of a man at 2-3 in the morning when I was a young kid when I went to use the bathroom, rocking chairs would move by themselves, i once heard an unknown man speaking in my room at my cottage, but the only males at the time were my brother and I and my cousin, except my brother and I were young kids, my cousin had just started puberty, and this sounded like an older man who smoked a lot, and a few years ago when another cousin was staying there, she saw an apparition of a man sitting at her computer chair in her room, the same room I stayed in as a kid. It’s both creepy but assuring having someone watching over us.

Image credits: anon

#21

I got one

I was deer hunting near hoonah alaska with my dad. One night I have this weird dream: I see these beautiful white deer, buck and doe. I mean, like the type you take and get stuffed. I take a couple of shots, the buck gets away, but the doe falls over, dead. After skinning it up and going back to my truck, I here a noise. As I turn, I see the buck again, but this time he looks angry. He looked beautiful the first time, this time? Nightmare fuel. We’re talking Flaming red eyes, antlers crawling into the sky and his once white fur was covered in blood. As he charged, I screamed, and then woke up. I never forgot that dream.

On a later camping trip, (to a different location) as the fire grew dim I decided to tell this dream as a campfire story. As I finished with “it wasscary but I’m glad It was just a dream” my dad speaks up and tells me “son that was the hoonah ghost deer. That’s an actual myth told by the natives there.” I was pretty shook hearing that.

Image credits: TheHilordd

For those who love a little mischief, games like ‘Truth or Dare’ often make their way into campfire nights. The dares get funnier in the dark, and the truths sometimes spark surprising conversations. Of course, it’s best to keep things light and fun, especially if kids are part of the group.

If you want to slow things down, stargazing is the perfect activity. Lying back near the fire, wrapped in blankets, while looking up at the endless sky is a humbling yet peaceful experience. The campfire provides warmth, while the stars offer a breathtaking reminder of how vast the universe is.

#22

One hundred years ago, out in the waters around Spivey Point, a small clipper ship drew toward land. Suddenly, out of the night, the fog rolled in. For a moment, they could see nothing, not a foot in front of them.

Then, they saw a light. By God, it was a fire burning on the shore, strong enough to penetrate the swirling mist. They steered a course toward the light. But it was a campfire, like this one. The ship crashed against the rocks, the hull sheared in two, masts snapped like a twig. The wreckage sank, with all the men aboard.

At the bottom of the sea, lay the Elizabeth Dane, with her crew, their lungs filled with salt water, their eyes open, staring to the darkness. And above, as suddenly as it come, the fog lifted, receded back across the ocean and never came again.

But it is told by the fishermen, and their fathers and grandfathers, that when the fog returns to Antonio Bay, the men at the bottom of the sea, out in the water by Spivey Point will rise up and search for the campfire that led them to their dark, icy death.

Image credits: AkamaruInuzuka

#23

When I was a kid, I used to have a recurring character in my dreams. It was an old man with a white mustache. He usually wasn’t front and center in my dreams, but at the fringes. Somebody I’d pass on the sidewalk, for example. He was always looking at me with a kind of blank stare, eyes wide open in the way people get when filled with adrenaline. He was noticeable enough that I recognized him in subsequent dreams and would remember him sometimes when waking up from a dream with him in it.

As I got older, he stopped appearing eventually. One day, when I was maybe 15 or so and it had been a few years since I had dreamt about him, some unexpected visitors came to the house. They were family of the previous homeowners and wanted to reminisce. We let them see around the yard a bit. The woman, who was the granddaughter of the previous owners, showed me a picture of them. It was the old man with the white mustache.

When we moved in the house initially, I knew that the previous owner had died of a heart attack in what became my bedroom. It scared me but I never thought much of it really. But I always got this tingling sensation that he was still there or something.

Image credits: thebigfuckinggiant

#24

I was lost in the woods as night was falling. I’d been walking all day and was desperate to find somewhere to shelter. In the darkness I came across a lonely cabin, and without even thinking I knocked on the door. When there was no answer, I decided to try the handle. The door was unlocked.

I got in and threw myself on the single bed in the middle of the room. I felt bad about breaking in, but I was exhausted and fell asleep almost instantly.

In the middle of the night, I woke up. But something kept me from going back to sleep. I hadn’t noticed before, but on the wooden walls hung the most sinister paintings I’d ever seen.
They were portraits. Horrible portraits of faces twisted in rage and fear, as if all the ugliness in the world was glaring down at me. Lying there in the dark, I shivered and somehow knew that the faces in the paintings were looking at me as an intruder… and how they hated me for it!

Eventually my tiredness must’ve overcome my fear and I drifted off into the darkness of a dreamless sleep.

That morning when I woke up, with the call of the forest birds flitting through the air, I opened my eyes, but I almost wished I hadn’t. Because when I looked around the sagging walls, I realised that those things I’d seen the night before weren’t paintings at all. They were windows.

Image credits: anon

Some groups even turn campfires into a mini cooking challenge. Everyone tries making something creative over the flames, from roasted veggies to fire-grilled sandwiches. It adds a playful competition to the evening and usually ends with everyone enjoying a feast that tastes even better outdoors.

#25

My mother once told me this:

In the early 90’s, she worked second shift at a plant. Shift ended at midnight and quite a few of them would go hang out at the local Waffle House afterwards.

This particular night, she had hung around the diner until about 2 a.m. She decided to swing by the post office and check her mail before heading home. We live in a (then) rural southern town (US). There is less than zero traffic at that time of night and the post office is fairly secluded.

She pulls in the parking lot and under the streetlight, can make out a very old car. Her description seems to be a model a which she claims is “close, but not quite it.” Someone is sitting in the car, but this is small town America, so she doesn’t think a thing of it. She retrieves her mail and walks outside, sorting through it.

Just as she is about to get back in her car, she hears a voice that seems “deceptively weak – it was quiet but carried far.”.

” Excuse me dearie, could you help an old lady?”

She hesitated, it was a small rural town where *nothing* ever happened, but she also says it felt “not right.”

She could see a person in the car, a tall, thin person. Wearing an old, forties era dress that hung loose on the frame. A pillbox hat, complete with a veil, hid the face, which was further obscured iin shadows. The hands were covered in gloves. Her brain said this was a frail older woman, but her gut insisted that something was **wrong**.

The figure held up it’s hand, curled into claws and gestured toward the dash.

“I have arthritis,” the falsetto weak voice said, “and my mail has fallen in the crack.”

My mother could see the envelopes that sat where the windshield met the dash. To reach them, she would have to lean far into the car. A small dog yapped as the “woman” carried on in her falsetto voice, “I just can’t seem to reach it…”

She swayed for just a moment before spinning and booking it to her car. The car window had been rolled down, so even after slamming the door, she clearly heard the falsetto voice as it rose into an angry baritone, “*Where are you going, you* **god d**n whoring b***h!**”

She spun put of that parking lot faster than she’d ever driven and peeled rubber for the local sheriff department.

She claims headlights followed her until she made the final turn into the sheriff’s parking lot.

She gave a statement; over the years she’s heard that several people have seen this man dressed as an older woman, usually seen and avoided. But no one else has ever interacted with him and reported it…perhaps none of those survived.

Anyway, 100% true according to my mother and the best I’ve got.

Note: my mother isn’t a prankster type. The night she told me this she was pale and shaking by the end. She truly thinks she barely avoided a Ted Bundy level serial killer. Maybe she did?

Image credits: aeboco

#26

I remember one that one of my cub scout leaders told us on a camp out when I was prob 7. It took place during pioneer times. A man and his wife traveled west in hopes of either striking it rich with gold, or at worst, finding a nice plot of land to settle down on and farm. Manifest destiny and whatnot.

A few months into their journey they come across just the spot. A beautiful plot of land to make their new home. Winter would be coming in a couple months, so they build a hasty shack and figure they’ll hunker down there for the winter, and build a more established house in a few months when the weather is more permitting. They don’t worry, as the area is teeming with wildlife for hunting and trapping, so they figure they’ll be set for food. A couple of months go by and the winter is bitter cold and unrelenting. They’ve finished off the last of their food stash, and they haven’t seen so much as a squirrel in weeks. They’re both slowly starving and freezing to death as they huddle in their shack, day after day with no end in sight.

The man’s wife is delirious with hunger. Fearing that they will soon be dead, he decides to go for a hunt. He musters the energy to bundle up and heads out – determined to stay out as long as it takes to find them both some food.

A couple of days pass as the man takes shelter under impromptu stick shelters – keeping warm with a campfire in the night time and hunting in the day time. Nearly frozen to death, mercifully the man spots a beautifully plump rabbit several yards away. He takes aim with his musket and *bang*. It’s a perfect shot. With a newfound energy the man runs home, giddy to finally feast with his wife.

What he doesn’t know is that while he was gone, his wife had discovered some tasty flesh of her own. Literally. The hunger had driven her insane, causing her to believe that her now frost-bitten finger tips were lady-finger cookies. She started off with a few nibbles here and there, slowly pulling the flesh away from her bones. After just a couple of hours both hands were nothing but bone. So she worked her way up her arms to the elbow. The feeling of something in her stomach just continued to drive her further, until she had chewed away at every last bit of skin she could reach – culminating in her chewing off her own lips.

The husband approached the shack with his (now frozen) k**l when he got an uneasy feeling. Fearing the worst, he steps up to the door and slowly opens it, expecting to see his wife’s corpse shriveled on the floor. But instead what he finds is even worse. This zombie like creature with exposed teeth and bones writhing on the floor at the sight of him, chomping its jaws with an insatiable hunger.

At that point, one of the scouts screeched for the leader to stop (which I was extremely thankful for, as it was easily the most terrifying thing I had ever heard at the age of 7). The scout leader told it with real conviction too… honestly still gives me the creeps if I go camping and happen to think about it sitting around a fire 😅.

Image credits: plyvoy111

#27

There were a couple that were (as far as I know) unique to the church camp (Camp Gailor-Maxon) I went to as a kid. Though I admit it’s possible some of our stories were ubiquitous ones just adapted to the place, I don’t really know.

One of them, though, I do have firsthand knowledge about, it’s the story of Sidney.

The camp was established on an old piece of property that has been a lot of different things over the years. Back during the War, it was a girls’ boarding school. One girl who was there was deeply in love with a boy who had gone off to fight. They exchanged letters constantly, until one day the letters stopped coming. Few weeks later, she gets word that her beloved was killed in action. She was so distraught that she hanged herself in her dorm room. There’s still a placque by the door of the room in her memory.

Now, I know for a fact that room is haunted.

I stayed in that room one year when I worked for the camp. One night after lights-out, the fan came on by itself. It started spinning faster and faster until it started wobbling really hard, acting like it’s about to fall off. I knew the stories, so I shouted, “Stop it, Sidney! I’m a friend!”

Fan immediately stopped. Like… Not just slowed down and came to an eventual stop. It’s like someone grabbed the fan blades and STOPPED it.

Image credits: Berek2501

But as fun as campfires are, safety always comes first. Fires should only be built in safe, designated spots and never left unattended. Keeping water or sand nearby is a must in case of emergencies. Kids should be taught the basics—no running near the fire, no throwing things into the flames—so they learn to respect it. After all, a safe campfire is what ensures the magic continues for everyone.

And while these posts include some truly creepy campfire stories, they’re also oddly fascinating. Which one gave you chills or made your skin crawl? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

#28

This is a pretty common one but it always scared the c**p out of my little cousins. Here it goes:

There once was a girl named Mary Sue. She would always wear a bow around her neck. The kids at school would always say, “Mary Sue, Mary Sue. Take off that bow will you?” But she refused.

In high school, her best friends asked her to take it off as they had gone out of fashion but Mary Sue refused.

One day Mary Sue met the man of her dreams and he asked her to take off her bow but she replied, “One day you will find out.”

Almost 60 years later, after Mary Sue’s children had grown up and moved out Mary Sue went up to her husband. “Do you want to see what is under my bow?” She asked. Her Husband put down his newspaper, “Are you sure? You’ve never taken it off.”

“I am sure my love,” Mary Sue said pulling the end of her bow. The bow fell to the ground shortly followed by her head then the rest of her body.

Image credits: dobbycello

#29

And so, the next night, the ghost returned to the haunted cabin. And he said to the campers, “none of you really believe in me. So I‘ll have to prove my power.”

The next morning, when the campers woke up
::dramatic pause::

…all of their old noses had grown back.

Image credits: heynatastic

#30

We were gonna make smores one time. But as we were getting the stuff to make it we would hear a chomp, chomp, chomp, noise. Dad didn’t know what it was but was scared. So he call our dog Hank who was a loveable pitbull comes around the corner where we heard the noises. So my dad went to check it out and it turns out Hank was eating the marsh mellows.

Image credits: ChiChiKiller

#31

I dont know if this will be seen, but hoping one or two people see this

For starter our house is from the 1800s and we’ve been renovating it for the last 3.5 years, and we’ve heard that a previous owner died here.

One night I was coming down stairs to get a glass of water when I saw a white figure floating about an inch off the ceiling (which is 8 ft tall). I was a little shaken up, and I run upstairs and back to bed. About a year later, my parent bought a camper with a built in radio. After about 2 months of having the camper the radio in it mysteriously turned on, my dad heard it and then turned it off, then a few days later, the radio turned back on, and the cycle repeated until the battery died. After a year after the radio kept going off I had finally moved into my bedroom after it was finished, one night I was watching youtube, and I heard a shushing noise when all of my family was asleep. I heard the shushing noise a few times after that. The last thing that had happened was in July. I was on a facetime call with one of my friends, and I was fidgeting with some coins I had, I stood one up on its edge, and was going to stand another one up, but I’d fell to many times, so I gave up and swiped it onto the floor. After that I went downstairs to refill my water bottle because my mouth was dry from talking. I go back upstairs about 5 minutes later I went back upstairs to find the coin that was on the floor back on my desk standing on its edge, I went downstairs and asked if anyone had gone up to my room, and everybody said no, so I went back up to my room and heard that same shushing sound.

Now one of my best friend has been telling me that he’s been hearing a shushing sound occasionally when he’s home alone.

#32

I’ve been telling this one since I was little. I love it. I hope you enjoy. It’s not super scary but it’s nice and spooky so hopefully you’ll still like it.

I work in the Nevada dessert. A little facility out in the middle of no where. To get home it’s about an hour drive of pretty much nothing. One day driving home, my car ran out of gas. I’ve always wondered if this dreaded day would come and… here we are. I had no choice but to start walking. I always drove past this little road side motel so I guess I don’t have much of a choice. I walked a couple miles until I got to it. I asked the front desk if they had any gas I could use. They said yes, but it would cost me. It was… way too expensive. I didn’t even have enough on me so I had no choice but to clean dishes and do other odd jobs around the place for the rest of the night. By the end I had made enough money but I was completely beat. No way I could drive after that. I asked if I could at least use a room for the night. Not wanting to cause an accident the owner said yes. Thank god. Although what he said after surprised me to say the least.

“We have two rooms available. Ones haunted, and there’s another next to it.”

I laughed it off figuring it was just him messing with me after the long day, friendly jokes. Just to be safe I chose the room next to it. When I got in there, what a dump. Just a s****y table with a s****y bed and a s****y broken fridge. I sat down on the bed, exhausted. I looked up to see their was a hole in the wall, about the size of a coin. Wow. How classy. Out of curiosity I looked through the hole with one eye. I saw the room next to mine. At the table, a young woman was seated brushing her long brown hair. She was beautiful, from the back at least. I didn’t want to be a creep so I just went to bed. A couple hours later i woke up with an uncomfortable feeling. Just in the pit of my stomach that something wasn’t quite right. I sat up and saw the hole in the wall was now glowing. I kneeled back down to it and peered through. All I could see… was red. Bright, glowing red. I figured the woman had just placed something, I don’t know an electronic in front of the hole. I went back to bed, unable to shake the feeling. The next morning when I woke up, I headed straight to the front desk to get all paid so I could get the hell out. As I got the gas I decided to ask the owner.

“Hey, that woman in the room next to mine. Is she alright? I was getting kind of a bad feeling.”

The owner laughed at me. “Oh so you saw her. She’s the haunted rooms resident.”

I laughed it off again, trying to continue to joke around with sarcasm. “Well she’s awfully pretty for a ghost.”

The owner handed me the gas tank. “Then you haven’t seen her from the front. Her eyes are glowing red.”.

#33

We have old one here in SA

A farmer, while on his way home, is caught in a terrible thunderstorm with his horse. Completely lost he realises he will either freeze to death or get struck by lightning if he doesn’t find a place to stay. Through the storm, he comes across a small homestead, the yellow candlelight visible through the sheets of rain.

Lighting flashes brightly, thunder barely a breath later, and he leads his terrified horse to the small house.

Tying the petrified animal to the fence, he knocks on the door and an old lady opens it with a smile. She ushers him in and he finds her husband smoking a pipe. He is seated at the kitchen table, and the wife quickly boils the kettle and gives him a bowl of hot soup and a cup of coffee. The farmer tells the old couple his story, and they are happy to serve as his sanctuary against the storm.

Outside the lightning flashes again, followed with a bout of thunder, and the old man smiles when jumps, offering him a bit of tobacco for his pipe to calm his nerves. The farmer accepts gratefully.

The next bolt slams close, ripping through the ground, almost deafening him completely. He jumps up with a cry, startled out of his wits, only to find himself standing in the dark and cold. Soaked wet by the rain, with no sign of the couple, broken stones littered around him, and his horse tied to a tree branch. Without thinking, he jumps on his spooked horse and gallops as fast as he can away from the place.

He would reach a town sometime during the night. At a tavern, after sharing his story, the folks tell him of the small cottage nearby which had been struck by lightning a long time ago, and of the couple that was killed in the fire.

#34

My dad used to tell this one. He said he read it in a book when he was a teenager.

There was once a pastor and his wife who came from the city to an old parish in a rural area. The people of the church had driven every single pastor out of the church since its founding. No one was good enough for them and some people said they would have found fault with the angels. The pastor and his wife didn’t stand a chance.

They were both heavily criticized by the members. The pastor preached the bible too much, he preached it too little, his wife dressed up too much, his wife underdressed, the pastor was greedy and wanted all their money, the wife (Alice) was a snob, and worst of all they were from the city. They refused to pay them enough to move away and the couple were, unfortunately, trapped there.

The criticism continued and increased and became extremely malicious, until tragically Alice could take it no longer and killed herself.

The very next Sunday night after the funeral they had a business meeting. The church elders cruelly belittled the pastor for his many ‘faults’ and some even implied he was the reason his wife had died.

At this final cruel criticism, there was a horrible scream, and down from the belfry came Alice shrieking accusations at the elders. She was dressed in her funeral clothes, with her hair loose, and her eyes wild and full of hatred. They all fled.

The next Sunday morning, Alice again came shrieking down. Every time the church tried to meet, there would be Alice, and they were finally forced to abandon the building after a failed exorcism. To this day the church remains empty, and anyone that tries to buy or meet in it, is driven off by the vengeful ghost of Alice.

Sidenote: My Dad is a pastor and I always thought it was weird he told us this ghost story about vengeful ministers wife.

#35

This is short but apperently, in my moms hometown, there used to be this haunted house that would dissapear and reappear every once in a while

In the hometown, there were a lot of superstitions and whatnot since it was in the province. Apparently, the owner of the house married a mythical creature or something and when the person died, the mythical creature was really sad, so sad that they couldnt clean the house

When the house looked abandoned, a bunch of highschoolers entered the home to loot the house or something

Either way, they get caught by the mythical creature and were killed because they were angry

After that, the mythical creature enchanted the house so that it only appears when they need to do something and dissapears when they dont

Not much of a scary story, but my mom told us this story when we went camping once.