Fish Audioによる無料のبراندون AI音声ジェネレーター

Do you hear that sound in the hallway? Some stories are too dark to be told, but we tell them anyway. Join us for another chilling tale tonight. Subscribe to Scary Diaries right now, because the fear never sleeps.

Welcome to your position as overnight security at Blackwood Mental Asylum. Rule number one: Never respond to voices calling your name after 2 AM. Rule number two: The patients in Ward C were counted at lockdown. If you count more, do not open the door.

Rule number three: If you see a woman in a white dress standing at the corner of Broadway and Canal Street, don't stop. Even if your meter light turns on automatically. Keep driving and don't look in your rearview mirror until you've crossed three intersections.

I heard scratching coming from the basement. Sarah insisted we investigate, but I knew better. The light switch didn't work, of course. We stood at the top of the stairs, our phone flashlights barely penetrating the darkness below. Something moved in the shadows.

The Millbrook Sanitarium stood pristine against the autumn sky, its reputation for revolutionary psychiatric treatment drawing patients from across three states. None suspected that the nightly screams weren't from treatment, but from something far more sinister lurking in the basement ward.

Sarah noticed her reflection in the bathroom mirror wasn't quite right. When she blinked, it stayed still. When she moved, it waited a heartbeat too long. Then one morning, her reflection smiled at her before she did. That's when she knew it wasn't her reflection anymore.

Here's three haunted dolls that vanished without trace. N one, the crying doll, appears in photos it wasn't in. Two, the walking bride, moves between rooms at night. Three, the whispering puppet, previous owners found dead clutching their ears. Which one would you keep?

Deep in these ancient hollows, where shadows dance between century-old trees, locals still speak of things that can't be explained. Stories carved into memory like the very valleys themselves, passed from grandmother to child in hushed, knowing tones.