Seven Turns Road
If you ever find yourself driving alone at night, maybe after a night drinking with friends, getting off work late, or pushing yourself to reach a distant destination, refusing to stop for rest, and suddenly you’re on a road that doesn’t appear on your GPS or map, unsure how you even got there, you may have unknowingly been selected by Seven Turns Road. Take a deep breath and follow this guide exactly. I’ve traveled this road myself many times. There is no turning back, no stopping, only forward. First off, you need to understand something: You were chosen, and I have no idea why. There are no rituals, no secret incantations, or hidden routes to memorize. Believe me, I’ve looked for patterns, I’ve tried to outsmart it, and I’ve failed every time. The truth is simple and unsettling: You’ll never find Seven Turns Road intentionally. It finds you. At first, it’s subtle. After making just one turn, your original route blends seamlessly into an endless stretch that feels both familiar and surreal. It doesn’t matter where you were originally heading. You’ll know with absolute certainty you’re truly on Seven Turns Road when the temperature abruptly plummets, and roadside signs blur, warp, or become nonsensical, dreamlike symbols, distorted letters, upside-down markers. You’ll feel it deep in your gut. Don’t fixate on the signs; that’s how it tricks you into losing control. You can slow down, even stop briefly, hell, if panic sets in hard enough, you can step outside for a breath, but never, ever make it a habit. Those who get comfortable leaving their vehicle don’t tend to survive. Read carefully, memorize these steps, and accept the reality you’ve entered. The only path out is straight ahead. Continue along the road. Wherever you started will feel somewhat familiar, yet increasingly distant. Eventually, this stretch will lead you to a second turn. Your car’s radio will switch on automatically; attempts to turn it off or adjust the volume will fail. At first, you’ll hear faint white noise that gradually evolves into a woman’s soft muttering, indecipherable gibberish that slowly transforms into coherent words, spilling out your darkest secrets, hidden truths you’ve told no one. I was terrified the first few times, but keep your eyes glued to the road. Your headlights are your only illumination, and you cannot afford to crash. Ignore the woman and drive until the next turn appears. By the third turn, any lingering familiarity of your surroundings will vanish entirely. A dense, oppressive forest will surge upwards, its thick, tangled branches arching overhead to form an almost suffocating canopy, enclosing you completely. On either side of the road, animals will appear, standing impossibly still, a fox, a squirrel, a bear, a bird, all fixed like grotesque statues. Their empty, hollow eyes will lock onto your every movement, heads slowly pivoting in unnatural synchronization as your vehicle passes. Keep driving. Do not acknowledge them. They aren’t animals, not anymore. They’re mere husks, puppeteered by the road itself as silent watchers. If curiosity compels you to glance again (and trust me, you shouldn’t), you’ll notice those husks beginning to distort, melting as if made from wax beneath a relentless flame. Fur sloughs away in thick, wet clumps, revealing slick, gleaming surfaces beneath, like dark, chitinous exoskeletons. Eyes liquefy, dribbling slowly from their sockets in streams of viscous decay. The forest around you fills with the sickly sound of dripping, the quiet cracks and pops of joints shifting beneath unraveling skin. Eyes forward. Keep your foot steady on the gas. Pretend you don’t see them. Because I assure you, they see you. At the fourth turn, your fuel gauge will begin to plummet alarmingly fast. Your headlights will flicker intermittently. Remain calm, the road is enticing you to exit your vehicle. Do not. You’re safe if you remain inside. Your speedometer will become erratic, but maintain a steady, comfortable speed. The radio’s whispering will grow louder, clearer; the woman’s voice will narrate every tiny detail of your existence, each blink, heartbeat, every breath you take, even the sweat dripping down your back onto your seat. Pay her no mind. Your focus must remain solely on the road until the next turn. On the fifth turn, a gentle snowfall begins, serene at first, softly coating your car. Normally, it might be calming, but the snow quickly intensifies. You’ll notice your hearing fading alongside the thickening snowfall, the harsh wind buffeting your vehicle will abruptly stop; your engine sounds will disappear, followed by your own panicked breathing. All you’ll have left is a faint ringing in your ears. Visibility deteriorates until your headlights barely illuminate the blizzard. This snow goes on endlessly, miles upon miles. Do not look to the sides, though silent, shadowy silhouettes will crawl toward your slowly moving car, attempting to pry their way inside or distract you into veering off the path. If you panic and leave the road, there’s no returning. Some shadows will dash suddenly in front of your car. My advice? Pretend they’re not there and keep driving. Eventually, you’ll encounter a sign, ever-changing, surreal, similar to those at the first turn. Each glance away alters its appearance, but it signals your sixth turn. Right after passing this shifting sign, turn right immediately. Do not miss it. On the sixth turn, your hearing will gradually return. The relentless snowstorm, which seemed eternal, will abruptly cease, melting away rapidly and leaving you alone on the road. The road itself will deteriorate, becoming rough and worn before shifting into gravel. Your car will shake violently, rattling over every pebble and rock. Soon, these sounds will grow louder, heavier, disturbingly similar to the snapping and breaking of bones beneath your tires. An open field will suddenly stretch out around you, filled with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of tall, dark figures. Initially, you might mistake them for dead, leafless trees. But they will begin to slowly, unsteadily move toward your vehicle. The smallest of these entities tower nearly ten feet, while the largest stretch close to twenty. Their elongated forms resemble charred bone fused with twisted bark. They possess smooth, featureless faces and deep, hollow mouths emitting anguished voices, cries, screams, and pleas of those you’ve loved, lost, or failed. You’ll feel an overwhelming urge to stop and help them. Resist it. Accelerate as quickly as possible. The sound of cracking bones beneath your wheels, combined with their sorrowful cries, will make this turn one of the worst you’ve encountered. While slow, they will inch closer. Speed past them. As you approach the final turn, a profound sense of relief and accomplishment will flood through you. You’ll feel as if you’ve narrowly escaped digestion by something monstrous and spat back out into safety. This turn will be deceptively beautiful, almost rewarding, adorned with climbing roses and vibrant flowers. Euphoria will briefly fill you until your headlights begin to flicker, your dashboard lights flash erratically, and every warning signal activates simultaneously. Your vehicle will abruptly die, coasting to a complete stop. With one final flicker of your headlights, utter darkness, deeper than any you’ve known, will consume you. This is the final test. The road will determine your fate. Remain inside, silent and still. You’ll soon hear tapping and knocking against windows, doors, even beneath your car. Countless entities will circle and inspect your vehicle, breathing heavily and scratching at the exterior. Hold tightly to your steering wheel; do not brake or attempt to restart your car. Your car will begin shifting as they’re pushing it toward something immense. You’ll hear shuffling footsteps rapidly retreat, fearful. Then, something massive will open wide, though invisible in the darkness, you’ll sense its enormity. Your car will shift downward, your stomach plummeting as adrenaline floods your veins. A sudden drop will follow; your vehicle will slowly descend into something terrible, crushing and grinding around you. You’ll hear the car being chewed apart, the metal shredding. Sharp edges will puncture through the floor, roof, and sides; something will scrape your flesh. The vehicle will compress tighter, the roof pressing inches from your face, the sound of destruction deafening. Then, with a final, sickening spin, you’ll plummet, spiraling until consciousness fades. You’ll awaken gasping on a quiet roadside, the exact place Seven Turns Road first claimed you. Feel the grass, the dirt beneath your fingers. Breathe deeply. You’ve survived, for now. But surviving once doesn’t mean freedom forever. I’ve traveled this road more times than sanity should allow, and each escape comes at a heavier price. Keep this guide safe because the road won’t forget you. Even as I finish typing this from the supposed safety of my driveway, I look up, and where my house should be stands an endless road stretching onward, signs distorted and beckoning. Seven Turns Road calls me again. Credit: Spades Reddit Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.