3 Best Scary Stories to Tell at Sleepovers

It was the first night of their camping trip, and Mia, Jess, and Sam were sitting around the campfire, surrounded by the stillness of the forest. The fire crackled, sending small sparks into the cool evening air. The sky above them was clear, the stars twinkling like scattered diamonds.

The night was perfect, with no clouds in sight and a refreshing chill that cut through the warmth of the fire. It was supposed to be a relaxing getaway—a chance to disconnect and enjoy nature. But the forest around them had a strange, almost eerie feeling. The trees seemed to stretch on endlessly, their dark silhouettes blending into the night.

Jess was the most excited about the trip, always the adventurous one. Mia, on the other hand, was more cautious, preferring quiet evenings at home to roughing it in the woods. Sam, the middle ground between them, just wanted to relax and enjoy the peace of nature. But as the sun set and the evening grew darker, Mia couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The forest seemed alive—almost as if it were watching them.

“Do you guys hear that?” Mia asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced around nervously, her eyes darting into the darkness beyond the campfire’s glow.

The three of them fell silent, listening carefully. At first, they heard nothing but the crackling of the fire. But then, faintly, there was a soft sound coming from the woods behind them—like a whisper. It was low and unintelligible, just out of reach of understanding. Jess laughed, trying to shake off the unease.

“Probably just the wind or some animal,” she said, but even her voice faltered slightly as the sound continued. It wasn’t the wind. It was too deliberate, too rhythmic.

Sam stood up and walked to the edge of the campfire, peering into the darkness. “It’s probably someone else out here,” he said. “There’s a trail not far from here. Could be other campers.”

Mia shook her head, her heart starting to race. “No. It doesn’t sound like other campers. It sounds… wrong.”

The whispering continued, becoming clearer now, though still not understandable. It was as if the forest itself was speaking—like there were voices hidden in the trees. Jess tried to dismiss it as nothing more than her imagination running wild, but Mia and Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

The wind had stopped entirely, and the forest felt unnaturally still. It was almost as if the entire world had gone quiet, holding its breath.

“Let’s go to bed,” Jess suggested, her voice forced cheerfulness. “It’s probably just some animals making noise. We’re out in the woods after all. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Sam agreed, though his voice had a slight tremor. “Yeah, let’s just try to get some sleep.”

But as they made their way to their tents, the whispering grew louder, almost frantic now. It was as if the voices were calling to them, urging them to listen. Mia felt a chill crawl up her spine as she ducked into her tent, unable to shake the feeling that the forest itself was alive and watching them.

The sound persisted throughout the night, and none of them were able to sleep. Every time Mia closed her eyes, the whispering would grow louder, more insistent, and it seemed to be coming from all directions. She could hear it even when she covered her ears, as if it was inside her head.

At some point during the night, Mia finally couldn’t take it any longer. She sat up in her tent, her heart pounding in her chest. Jess and Sam were still asleep—or at least, she hoped they were. She needed to know what was happening. She couldn’t ignore the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Slowly, she unzipped the flap of her tent, stepping out into the cool night air.

The forest around her was dark and oppressive, the trees looming like silent watchers. The whispering had stopped—at least for a moment—but there was an unsettling silence that had replaced it, one that was almost worse. She took a step toward the edge of the clearing, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot the only sound. It was then that she saw it.

A figure, standing just beyond the edge of the campfire’s light.

At first, Mia thought it was another camper, maybe someone out for a midnight walk. But as she blinked, trying to clear her tired eyes, the figure didn’t move. It stood perfectly still, facing away from her, as if it were waiting for something. The figure was wearing what looked like a long, tattered cloak, and its head was bowed low. The figure’s presence sent a wave of dread crashing over her, and she took a step back.

Suddenly, the figure turned.

Mia’s breath caught in her throat. The face beneath the hood was impossible to make out—it was covered by shadows, but there was something deeply unsettling about the way it was shaped. The figure didn’t speak, but Mia could hear the whispering again, louder now, as if it was coming directly from the figure itself.

She felt a cold rush of fear flood her veins. The whispering wasn’t coming from the trees anymore. It was coming from the figure—no, the forest had become one with it.

In a panic, Mia backed away toward her tent. The whispers followed her every movement, growing louder and more frantic, like they were beckoning her to come closer. Just as she turned to rush back into her tent, she heard a voice—not a whisper, but clear, cold, and unmistakable.

“Don’t run… We are watching.”

Mia froze, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. The voice was not human. It was ancient, something deep from within the earth, something that had been there long before her, long before anyone. It was as if the forest itself was speaking, its roots and trees carrying a message meant only for those who dared listen.

Without thinking, Mia bolted back to her tent, nearly tripping over her own feet. She flung herself inside, heart pounding, chest tight. Her breath was shallow, and she could barely see through the tears that had formed in her eyes from the sheer terror.

She looked at Jess and Sam, still asleep in their tents, oblivious to what was happening. The whispering had returned, even louder now, but Mia couldn’t tell if it was coming from outside or if it was in her head.

Suddenly, the tent flap opened. Mia turned, her heart in her throat. It was Sam, wide-eyed and breathing heavily, his face pale.

“Did you hear that too?” he whispered urgently.

Mia nodded, unable to speak. Her voice had failed her. Jess was awake now as well, her face pale and her eyes wide with confusion and fear.

“Something is out there,” Sam said, his voice shaky. “I saw it too.”

The three of them huddled together in the center of the tent, staring out into the dark forest. The whispers were no longer subtle. They were full of urgency, as if the forest was trying to tell them something. Every now and then, Mia thought she saw movement in the trees—figures shifting in the shadows, but when she looked again, they were gone.

It felt like hours before any of them dared to speak again. The atmosphere inside the tent was thick with fear, suffocating. They could hear every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig in the distance. Every sound felt like it was coming closer, every whisper seemed to get louder, more insistent. They were trapped in the tent, waiting for something they couldn’t understand.

Finally, Jess spoke, her voice barely audible. “We have to leave. We can’t stay here. This place… it’s not right.”

Mia and Sam exchanged looks, both nodding in agreement. They had to get out, but how? The figure outside, the voices—they felt like they were being surrounded by something they couldn’t escape.

“We need to leave, now,” Sam said again, his voice more urgent. “Grab your stuff, we’re going.”

But as they prepared to leave the tent, a strange force seemed to hold them in place. Mia could feel it deep in her chest, a heavy pressure that made it hard to breathe, like something was trying to keep them from moving.

Then, just as suddenly, the forest fell silent.

For a brief moment, everything was still. The whispers stopped, the tension in the air dissipated, and even the sounds of the forest seemed to vanish. Mia was sure it was some sort of trick—some lull before the next terror—but she couldn’t explain the feeling of dread that still clung to her.

With a deep breath, Mia forced herself to unzip the tent and step outside. Sam and Jess followed, both looking just as terrified. As they stepped into the clearing, the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a faint, golden light over the trees. But the forest was no less menacing. It was like a quiet after a storm—unsettling, eerie.

They packed up their things as quickly as they could, their movements rushed and frantic. There was no time to linger. They didn’t look back as they made their way to the car. The forest behind them seemed to remain unchanged, but something in their gut told them that it had been different—alive in a way they couldn’t understand.

As they drove away, the trees on either side of the road seemed to reach out toward them, their long branches swaying in the wind. The whispers, however, had faded. It felt like the forest had let them go—for now. But Mia couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still watching them, waiting for the right moment to call them back.

The whispering never stopped. It still lingers in the back of their minds, a haunting reminder that some places are not meant to be explored.

And the forest? It still waits.

It was a humid summer night when Jason and his younger brother, Ryan, arrived at their grandfather’s old cabin deep in the woods. The moment they stepped out of their car, they could feel the air was thick with something unsettling.

The trees surrounding the cabin were tall and dense, their branches twisting like the fingers of something that had long been forgotten. The quietness of the place was eerie, broken only by the distant, mournful cry of an owl.

The cabin itself stood isolated, perched at the edge of a forest that seemed to stretch on forever. The wooden walls were old, weathered by years of neglect. The windows were dark and covered in layers of dust and grime. The porch creaked as the boys walked up, and Jason’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he felt an uncomfortable shiver crawl up his spine.

They hadn’t been here in years, not since their grandfather passed away, and the place had remained empty ever since. Jason’s parents had suggested they clean it up before deciding whether to sell it or keep it in the family. Jason didn’t mind—he liked the idea of some time away from the usual hustle and bustle—but Ryan, his younger brother, had an unsettled look in his eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” Ryan asked as he followed Jason inside.

Jason shrugged off the question. “It’s just an old cabin. There’s nothing weird about it. Besides, we’ll have fun cleaning it up. Get it ready to sell.”

Ryan didn’t look convinced, but he nodded quietly and followed Jason through the threshold.

The inside was just as dusty as expected, with forgotten furniture covered in sheets, and empty picture frames lined up on the dusty shelves. The smell of old wood and mildew hit them like a wall as the door creaked shut behind them. Jason grabbed a dusty lantern and set it on a table in the center of the room. The dim flicker of its light cast long, dancing shadows against the walls.

“Let’s get this over with,” Jason said, tossing his bag onto one of the old chairs.

But Ryan hesitated. “This place… I don’t know. It feels wrong.”

Jason let out a small laugh. “You’re just spooked. It’s just an old cabin, Ryan. No ghosts. No monsters.”

Despite Jason’s reassurance, Ryan couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at him. His eyes darted around the room, and he kept glancing at the windows. As if waiting for something. But there was nothing out there except the dense trees and the darkening sky.

They began cleaning, dusting off old shelves and wiping down counters. But as the night wore on, an odd tension filled the air. The wind outside howled, rattling the windows and making the old wooden beams creak. The sounds seemed almost too deliberate, too unnatural. Ryan kept hearing a faint whispering—just under the howl of the wind—but when he tried to focus on it, it would disappear.

Jason, on the other hand, was completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to the oddities around him. As he sorted through a pile of old books, his fingers brushed against something cold and smooth—a worn-out journal. The cover was weathered, the binding almost completely disintegrated. Curiosity piqued, he opened it.

“Hey, look what I found,” Jason said, holding up the journal. “This must have belonged to Grandpa.”

Ryan walked over reluctantly, glancing at the journal. “What’s it say?”

Jason flipped through the pages, but as he read the scribbled notes, his face grew serious. “It’s… weird. Grandpa wrote a lot about ‘the Whispering Man.’”

Ryan frowned. “The Whispering Man? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jason shrugged. “It looks like he thought something was out there, watching him. He talks about hearing whispers in the woods, seeing something standing in the trees just outside the cabin. He even wrote about the voice calling his name. But he said he was never able to see it clearly.”

Ryan’s heart began to race as he looked around the dimly lit cabin. “Jason, stop joking. You’re starting to freak me out.”

“I’m not joking,” Jason said, tossing the journal aside. “It’s probably just some old ghost story Grandpa believed in. You know, like all those weird things he used to tell us when we were kids.”

Just then, a strange sound broke through the air. It wasn’t the wind. It was too… deliberate.

A soft, nearly inaudible whisper.

Jason froze. He glanced at Ryan, who was looking at him with wide eyes.

“Did you hear that?” Ryan asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Jason nodded slowly, his heart beginning to pound. “It… it sounded like it came from outside.”

The wind howled again, rattling the windows, but the whisper seemed to persist beneath the storm, just on the edge of hearing.

Suddenly, the whisper grew louder—clearer. This time, Jason distinctly heard his own name.

“Jason…”

It was faint but unmistakable. Jason stood up quickly, his muscles tensing. “What the hell?” he muttered under his breath.

Ryan took a step back. “That’s not funny, man. This isn’t the time for your stupid pranks.”

Jason shook his head, his eyes wide. “I didn’t do that. Did you hear it? It was… it was real.”

The whisper came again, clearer this time. “Jason… come outside…”

Ryan froze. “I-I’m not going outside. It’s just… it’s just wind, right?”

Jason’s breath caught in his throat. “It’s not the wind, Ryan. This is something else.”

They both turned to the window. Something shifted in the trees, a shadow moving against the night. Jason squinted but saw nothing. Was it just his mind playing tricks?

Then, a figure appeared, standing just beyond the tree line. A tall, impossibly thin shape, like a person but with long limbs stretched to unnerving lengths. Its face, if it even had one, was obscured by darkness.

Jason’s stomach churned. “Do you see that?” he whispered, barely able to speak.

Ryan’s face turned white. “Jason, we need to leave. Now.”

Without thinking, Jason grabbed his brother’s wrist and pulled him toward the door, but as he reached for the knob, the whispering started again—this time, it came from inside the cabin.

“Jason…”

A voice echoed from behind them. It was low, slow, and… insistent.

They turned together, but the room was empty. No one was there.

A cold sweat dripped down Jason’s back as he hurriedly opened the door. The night air hit him like a wall, but he didn’t care. He pushed Ryan ahead of him and they ran to the car, not even bothering to look back.

Ryan fumbled with the keys, but his hands were trembling too hard. Jason glanced behind them, and there it was again—the figure. But this time, it was closer.

The Whispering Man.

Standing still, motionless, but there was no mistaking it. His eyes—if they could be called eyes—seemed to glow faintly, like burning coals. He was standing directly in their path, blocking their only way out.

“Jason…” the voice whispered, right beside him now.

Jason shoved Ryan aside and jumped into the car, slamming the door shut. His hands fumbled with the ignition. “Start, damn it!” he hissed, his voice tight with panic. The car sputtered, and then finally roared to life.

Ryan screamed, his voice high-pitched with terror, “Drive! Just drive!”

Jason slammed his foot on the gas, peeling out of the gravel driveway. The figure did not move. It just stood there, watching them, its presence oppressive, like a dark cloud pressing down on them.

As they sped down the dirt road, Jason glanced in the rearview mirror. The figure was still there. Not far behind them, but it was moving too—its long, unnatural legs stretching farther than they should.

The Whispering Man was keeping pace.

Jason’s hands were slick with sweat as he drove faster, but the figure didn’t fade. It kept up, its whispers filling the air.

“Jason… you can’t escape me.”

The voices swirled around them, blending with the sound of the wind and their racing heartbeats. But the Whispering Man didn’t get closer. He just followed them, as if he had all the time in the world.

Eventually, the cabin and the woods disappeared behind them, and Jason took the first turn he could. He didn’t stop driving until they reached the safety of the nearest town.

They didn’t speak for a long time. Neither of them wanted to admit it out loud, but they both knew. Whatever had been out there, whatever had whispered their names—it hadn’t followed them because it was some silly ghost. It had followed them because it wanted something. And it wasn’t done.

Later that night, long after the adrenaline had worn off and they had both fallen into uneasy sleep, Jason was woken by a sound. A whisper, soft at first.

“Jason… come back…”

His heart skipped a beat. He knew, deep down, that it had only just begun.

It was a cold, foggy night. The kind of night that made you feel like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Sarah and Emily, best friends since high school, were driving down one of those forgotten backroads that seemed to stretch on forever, with nothing but the occasional flicker of tree branches brushing against the windows and the soft hum of the tires on the road.

The two girls had spent the entire day running errands in town, and they were eager to get home, settle in, and relax after a busy day. But as Sarah turned the wheel, guiding her car onto the winding, old road that led back to their small suburban neighborhood, something about the night felt different.

The trees on either side of the road seemed too still, almost as if they were watching. The darkness around them felt thicker than usual, as if the night itself was pressing in.

“Do you feel that?” Emily broke the silence, her voice barely audible.

Sarah glanced over at her friend. Emily was staring out the window, her face pale and eyes wide, as if she’d seen something terrifying in the distance. Sarah tried to shake off the unease creeping up her spine. “Feel what?” she asked, trying to sound calm, but there was a slight tremor in her voice.

Emily turned to face her, her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s like… something’s off. Like we’re being watched.”

Sarah chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s just the fog. It’s making everything look spooky.” But she couldn’t help but notice that Emily wasn’t laughing.

They drove on in silence for a while, the only sounds being the occasional pop of the tires on the uneven road and the soft swish of the fog against the windshield. It felt like they had been driving for hours, though in reality, it had only been about fifteen minutes.

The road seemed to stretch on forever, the headlights cutting through the mist and casting eerie shadows across the trees.

“Maybe we should just turn around,” Emily suggested quietly, her hands gripping the seatbelt tighter. “This place feels… weird. It’s almost like we’re not supposed to be here.”

Sarah was about to reassure her, tell her that they were just overthinking it, when her headlights suddenly caught something ahead—just off the side of the road. A figure. Standing motionless in the fog.

“Do you see that?” Sarah whispered, her foot instinctively lifting off the gas pedal.

Emily’s eyes went wide, and she leaned forward to get a better look. “What is that? A person?”

In the distance, barely visible through the thick fog, stood a woman. She was wearing a long, white dress that seemed to glow faintly in the night, her long dark hair cascading down her back.

She didn’t move, didn’t seem to acknowledge their presence, just stood there, staring out into the empty road. For a brief moment, the only thing Sarah could focus on were the woman’s piercing eyes, even though they were too far away to see clearly.

“Should we stop?” Sarah asked, her voice uncertain.

“I don’t know, Sarah… this feels wrong,” Emily replied, her voice shaking. “What is she doing out here alone? It’s almost midnight.”

But Sarah felt a strange tug in her chest, like an invisible force pulling her toward the woman. “She might need help. We should stop.”

With a sigh, Emily nodded, though she didn’t look convinced. Sarah slowly eased the car to the side of the road, the tires crunching on the gravel as they came to a stop. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The fog had thickened, almost swallowing them whole. Sarah turned off the headlights, and everything around them was plunged into darkness, save for the faint glow of the woman’s dress in the distance.

Before Sarah could say another word, the woman took a slow, deliberate step forward. Her bare feet were pale against the dark ground, the soft rustle of her dress the only sound as she approached the car. It felt like time had slowed down, and the air between them grew heavy.

“Hello? Are you alright?” Sarah called out through the open window, her voice trembling despite herself.

The woman didn’t respond at first. She simply continued walking, her eyes locked on Sarah. The closer she got, the colder the air around them became, the temperature seeming to drop by degrees, as though winter had suddenly arrived.

“I need a ride,” the woman finally spoke, her voice low and haunting, as if it had traveled a great distance to reach them. She sounded distant, almost as though her words were echoing in their heads.

Sarah hesitated, glancing at Emily. The fog seemed to have swallowed them completely now, and there was a sense of isolation that made the entire situation feel surreal. “Where are you going?” Sarah asked cautiously.

The woman took another step closer. Her eyes didn’t leave Sarah’s. “Just up the road. It’s not far,” she replied, her voice hollow.

Something about her words unsettled Sarah even more. The woman’s face was pale, almost ghostly, and her features were so still that it was like she was carved from stone. And yet, there was a magnetic force about her that made Sarah feel both compelled and terrified at the same time.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emily spoke up from the passenger seat, her voice shaking. “It’s really late. Shouldn’t you be somewhere safe?”

The woman didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she stepped closer to the car, the faint glow of her dress making her look like some kind of apparition. Sarah couldn’t look away.

“I’ll be fine. Just take me where I need to go,” the woman said, her tone now more insistent. She was so close now that Sarah could see her dark hair tangled and wild, her pale face stretched into an unreadable expression.

With a soft sigh, Sarah unlocked the door, feeling a mix of fear and sympathy. “Alright, get in. It’s cold out here.”

Without a word, the woman slid into the back seat, the car shifting slightly under her weight. Emily glanced nervously at Sarah, her eyes wide with worry. “Sarah, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” she whispered.

Sarah didn’t reply. Her mind was fogged, caught in a strange trance-like state, as though the woman’s presence had a hold on her. The car felt colder the moment the door closed behind her. Sarah turned the key in the ignition and slowly pulled back onto the road, her eyes flicking nervously to the rearview mirror.

The woman was still sitting there, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her gaze fixed straight ahead, as if she wasn’t even aware of her surroundings. Emily remained silent, her fingers clenched tightly around the seatbelt, her body stiff with unease. The car felt suffocating now, the air too thick to breathe.

As they drove in silence, the road ahead seemed to stretch out endlessly, the fog growing thicker with each passing minute. No lights, no other cars—just the eerie glow of the woman’s dress and the endless, unbroken darkness that surrounded them. It was as though the world outside had disappeared.

“Where are we going?” Sarah finally asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The woman didn’t answer at first. She just stared ahead, her gaze distant. “Just keep driving,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

As they continued down the road, the headlights suddenly flickered. The car’s engine sputtered as if something was wrong, but it wasn’t until they passed a small, dilapidated wooden bridge that Sarah began to feel truly uneasy.

“Stop here,” the woman said abruptly, her voice sharp as she pointed toward the bridge.

The car came to a halt, and for a long moment, Sarah didn’t say anything. Something inside her told her that this was where she should stop—something deep in her gut that made her heart race. She turned to the woman, who was now staring directly at her, the same hollow expression frozen on her face.

“Wait here,” the woman added, her voice soft but commanding. She opened the door and stepped out, her dress fluttering behind her like a ghostly veil. Without a word, she walked toward the bridge.

“Don’t go!” Emily cried out, but the woman didn’t respond. She just kept walking, her figure becoming more and more distant with every step, until she was swallowed by the fog.

Sarah blinked in disbelief. “What just happened?” she whispered.

Emily was now frantic, her breath coming in short gasps. “She… she just vanished! Where did she go?”

Sarah slammed the car into reverse, heart pounding. The headlights swept the empty road and the bridge. There was no sign of the woman, no trace of her anywhere. She had simply disappeared.

“Where did she go?” Emily’s voice was shaking as she turned to Sarah, wide-eyed.

Sarah stared ahead, still unable to process what had just happened. The woman had been right there—now she was gone, and there was no explanation for it. No footprints. No sound. Nothing.

They drove home in silence, neither of them speaking until they pulled up to Sarah’s house. Neither of them mentioned the woman again. They didn’t need to. They both knew what had happened. Something had crossed the line between the living and the dead that night.

The woman was gone—but she wasn’t really gone. She was still out there, waiting on that forgotten road.

Dim lighting: Use flashlights, candles, or string lights to create a spooky atmosphere.

Eerie soundscapes: Play sounds like wind howling, creaking doors, or footsteps to add mystery.

Cozy seating: Arrange blankets and pillows in a circle to keep everyone close and comfortable, but also a bit on edge.

Shadows: Use hand puppets or cut-outs to create creepy shadows on the walls.

Sudden tactile surprises: Have cold grapes or other creepy objects to feel like “eyeballs” or strange body parts.

Atmosphere

Pick creepy places like dark forests or old, abandoned houses. Describe what they look, smell, and sound like so everyone feels like they’re really there.

Characters

Make your characters easy to relate to, like brave friends or curious adventurers. Then add in creepy villains—ghosts, strange creatures, or mysterious people that make everyone nervous.

Suspense & Pacing

Build the tension slowly. Pause at the right moments to make everyone wait, use cliffhangers to keep them hooked, and throw in some surprises to keep them guessing.

Twists & Surprises

End with a twist that catches everyone off guard. It should be something that makes them think about the story long after it’s done. The best scary stories leave you wanting more!

Classic Urban Legends

These well-known stories, like “The Hook-Handed Man,” “Bloody Mary,” and “The Vanishing Hitchhiker,” feel real, making them perfect for sleepovers. Their familiar yet creepy vibe keeps everyone on edge.

Ghost Stories

Tales about haunted houses or spirits with unfinished business are classic. One example is the ghost of a woman in white who haunts a lonely road, always seeking something she lost.

Personal Horror

Stories that start with “This happened to me…” blur the line between real life and fiction. They feel more personal and can make the story much scarier, as it feels like it could happen to anyone.

Interactive Stories

Make your audience part of the story! Ask questions like, “What would YOU do?” or assign roles for added fun, making everyone feel more involved in the scary tale.

Pacing & Suspense

Start slow to set the scene, and take your time building up. Right before the big moment, pause to let the tension grow. Those quiet pauses make the scary parts even more thrilling.

Voice Mastery

Change up your voice to keep it interesting. Whisper when things get creepy, and then suddenly shout when something shocking happens. You can also switch voices for different characters, making the bad guys sound deep and scary, and the heroes more calm or worried.

Body Language

Your body can make the story scarier too. Look your listeners in the eye to make them feel involved, or widen your eyes to show something shocking. You can even grab someone’s arm during a tense moment to make them feel the fear right along with you.

Silence & Sounds

Sometimes, silence can make things scarier. Stop talking for a moment to let the quiet build, then suddenly add a creepy sound like a creak or a knock. These little surprises will keep everyone on edge.

Gauge Comfort Levels

Check with everyone before starting to make sure they’re okay with the level of scariness. It’s important to know what everyone is comfortable with.

Avoid Triggering Topics

Be careful not to bring up sensitive topics that might upset someone. Stick to general spooky themes and avoid anything too personal or intense.

Safe Word

Pick a “safe word” that anyone can use if they need to stop the story. If someone feels too scared, they can say the word, and you’ll pause to make sure everyone is okay.