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A Well-Lit Place



Estimated reading time — 6 minutes

I think you misunderstand what I mean when I say dark. I don’t mean the night time, when the sun goes beyond the horizon, with the light fading into bruised decay. I don’t mean when the electricity goes out and you’re in the shower, soap in your eyes, frantically searching for a towel.
When I say that monsters find you in the dark, I mean an empty, lifeless place. An abyss. A place well-lit can be filled with despair. Empty and lifeless.
I remember meeting a monster, face-to-face, for the first time. It was a warm fall afternoon, with the sun shining bright as could be. I’d just finished working early and went for a walk in the park, wrapping my fingers around a paper cup of coffee. Just cream, no sugar. It had just finished its swirl when I looked up in time to receive a shoulder to my face.
My nose was spilling blood everywhere, on my clothes, on her clothes, and mixed in with the brown liquid. The pain was excruciating and my ears had been filled with a sharp ringing. My nose wasn’t broken, but the pain hadn’t still pretty bad. Holding my hand up to my bleeding nose, I finally looked up.
She was beautiful, my monster. Her hair was long and red, much like the leaves falling around us. Her eyes were green and dancing, and I thought I could see a merry soul in her. Her black coat was wet, and her face was aghast.
“I’m so sorry!” she had said. Her hands were digging in her purse, looking for tissues. “I’m so careless.” I watched her, my eyes wide. She was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. I could barely manage a thank you when she handed me a few tissues with her small, gentle hands.
Shaking her head, the monster had taken my other hand in hers, eyes wide. “Do you need me to take you to a hospital?” She seemed desperate to help me. I shook my head. I was thinking of two things at that moment: how fast had she been walking to do that much harm, and how I could just stare at her forever. Clearing my throat, I finally spoke.
“Please, don’t worry about it. I wasn’t paying that much attention either, really.” I fake laughed, trying to make it seem like everything was fine. My clothes had been perfectly ruined. She was dissatisfied with that answer, pulling out a small wallet. “At least let me buy you coffee. Are you free?”
Again I was stunned. I nodded before my mind comprehended what I had just done. Smiling suddenly, she had grabbed my hand gently and pulled me behind her, back to the coffee shop I had just come from.
A few minutes later, I was sat across from this woman with a fresh cup of coffee, with both cream and sugar in it. I had no idea what to say. I thanked her, thinking she’d leave right after. But she stayed. I found it quite odd, but as she’d already had such an effect on me already, I hadn’t minded all that much. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” she said all the sudden, startling me.
“W-what?” I managed, picking up the coffee. “What do you mean?”
Running her light fingers over a stray length of red hair, she said, “Well, you look very familiar. I don’t know too many people, even for living in this place for as long as I have.” Mid-sip I looked at her, confused. I had wondered what she was getting at.
“Well, perhaps a name would help,” she said finally, looking at me expectantly. Her lips tugged into a sincere smile, her hand holding up her head. I was slightly reluctant, but I complied. “I’m Bri,” I said, placing the cup on the table. “Bri Leeds.”
“Bri!” she exclaimed, looking excited for whatever reason. “What a beautiful name! Do you work at Greta’s?” Greta’s Stop was a design boutique. My friends convinced me to apply after graduating two years ago, so I had more time to spend with them. I nodded again. “Yep, I work there full time. You shop there regularly?”
“Oh, yes!” she said, sitting up straight. “I buy most of my clothes there, actually!” I had noticed some of her clothes looked familiar when she said that. But I realized she hadn’t offered up her name. “What’s your name, then?” I asked, looking her in the eye. I wasn’t letting it slide by.
She paused, her green eyes darting. The monster, now that I think about it, looked a bit trapped. “Melanie,” she replied, her voice now low, more serious. “Not as lovely as your name, that’s for sure.” I managed a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Melanie.” I felt my nose had stopped bleeding at that point and took the tissues away from my face. The pain had subsided too.
“My, what a beautiful face you have,” she said, twirling her hair now. “I do so apologize for walking so fast. But, perhaps, it’s fate, as I get to meet a beautiful girl such as you.” Despite the weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, my face had turned slightly pink at the compliment. My heart skipped a beat, watching those gentle fingers twisting, turning that long red hair. “T-thank you,” I stammered, “but really you are much prettier than me.”
Leaning forward, her green eyes had widened. “Oh, no! It’s rare to find one with eyes like yours, or hair so dark, like the night sky!” Referring to my brown eyes, which many had told me changed colors in the light and with my moods, I blushed even more. “They are nothing compared to yours.” And it was true. No one could have hair that red without dying it. Or at least in my experience. I looked down, staring into my cold cup of coffee. The light and dark had mellowed out, settling into a murky tan. Bland and boring.
And it was then the monster’s hand touched mine. I lost then. I should have realized my misfortune in those green eyes, in the lips that whispered that I should take a walk with her, in the way she knitted her fingers between mine. But I was enamored from that moment, and I remember when I had unlocked the door to my apartment and led her inside. I can still feel those fingers running through my hair as her lips touched mine. They were ruby red, pressing desperately. And her scent entered my blood as I touched her skin, entwined in her hair like a web that I still can’t escape. Her soft voice and gasping breath were the only things that I heard. Her trembling body under mine, above mine, nearby as we lay there was no different from my own.
But most monsters hide in sheep’s clothing.
It was another bright day when I opened my eyes. The only thing covering me was the comforter and her arms, wrapped around my waist. Crème walls intensified the sunlight. I heard her groan, pulling closer.
I felt odd, at best. My body didn’t feel quite right. No, it was my soul. It felt so… empty. I remember when I held my hand in front of my face, staring at it in the light, I could see every detail, but not understand it. I had wondered if it was my body that I was looking at, or a stranger’s. I felt her stir, the monster from last night, whispering for me. Bri, right? Yeah, of course. Why would I question my own name?
That’s when I realized just how cold her hands were.
Her hands held tighter and tighter, and I wondered if I could remove them without waking her. She was already awake, though, looking up at me. But her eyes were not the same. They were still the same shade of green, the ones that had peering at me in the darkness of my room, searching me for all of my vulnerabilities. Except they were deep and hollow, with no end to them. They were an abyss. They were dark.
I froze. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe. This woman had been so beautiful and bright and cheerful, like the fall leaves. She was the same person, but there were the holes, the crinkling shape and curling edges, browning. I pushed myself out of bed, pulling her hands away from my waist. Mirrors hold many truths, and the one mine showed me was terrifying. I was me. I was the one I’d always been. But I looked desaturated, like all the blood had been drained out of me.
The light and dark had mellowed out, settling into a murky tan. Bland and boring.
Her red lips had been next to my ear, whispering again. “Bright eyes, such as yours, are odd for hair so dark.” Her fingers laced themselves into my hair, more like talons now. Her lips trailed from my ear to my collar bone, and I felt the sensation, but tinged with fear.
“I’ve searched for a feeling such as this for many years,” she said, her fingers trailing. I gasped, my body growing colder and dimmer. “It’s hard to find many so willing at just the touch of a hand.”
I remember, as her hands cupped and fondled my fading self, detaching and looking back, and seeing her. It was the same woman, the woman with the long red hair. But she was different. In the light, she seemed to adjust. And by adjust, I mean her body shifted, like a chameleon camouflaging.
She was definitely a monster, with eyes dark, and she knew that I saw.
Today, her eyes are brown, changing color in the light. Today, her hair is black like mine used to be. Today, I have counted 543 wounds on my arm. She puts them there, the monster. Her long nails cut into me every hour, counting down the hours before I surely bleed to death. But the feeling of her touch takes the pain away, for sure….

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37 thoughts on “A Well-Lit Place”

  1. I noticed a few grammatical errors, but saw in the comments how early in the morning this was written, and that kinda blows me away because of how detailed and well thought out the story was! Nice job.

  2. This reminds me of being married to my 1st wife, jk! I enjoyed this one. I was thinking it could either be a ginger taking a soul story, a story that is symbolic of addictive relationships (with people, drugs, money, etc..), or just a story to be taken at face value where a creature harmed an innocent person.

  3. Dark, poetic and interesting. I like seeing characters of different orientations, it showa the creepypasta community is a lot more diverse than it seems sometimes

  4. I know I comment once already but this pasta is just to good not to comment on again re-read it again…I would totally read a whole book if this was turned into one, and easily pay for it!!!! 10 out of 10!!

  5. Interesting read. It translated differently for me. As if it was actually just the one girl, who fell into deep depression and self harm (cutting). To me, Melanie could have just actually have been all of Bri’s insecurities. I’ve never been good at analyzing stories though, so I’m probably way off in left field.

  6. I think the middle was the best part. The ending just felt a bit forced and it was a bit confusing as someone mentioned, which is a shame because the ending is like a conclusion in an essay, its the last thing read and needs to make impact! Perhaps a revision is in order, if you could refine the beginning and especially the ending, this would be even better. Oh and their conversation about who was prettier was kinda cringe worthy. 5/10

  7. I think this could have been longer. I would have liked to get to know Bri. Also, I’d suggest at least alluding to the fact that Bri’s a girl if you’re not going to name her in the beginning.

    That, along with some bad grammar and typos, gets you a 7/10. I think I’d enjoy reading something else by you.

  8. Who’s the author? This reminds me of the pasta called “Everything is Perfect Forever” Just curious if they’re by the same guy.

  9. The visual descriptions were good. The characterization, however, was lacking in this one. I got very little sense for what kind of people the narrator and monster were, what drives them, etc. I didn’t even know the narrator was a female until it was explicitly mentioned. There was just no detail to allude to the gender– I don’t know if that was intentional or not. All that missing information made it seem all the more unbelievable when the two characters suddenly hopped into bed together. I can only conclude the narrator was under some kind of mind control– or maybe to the narrator, this was all totally normal. I don’t know. Because I don’t know her.

  10. I didn’t like this pasta. For me it was short and void of any meaning. At the end there were many parts that I had difficulty understanding. What happened at the ending? Did she take her body? Did she kill her? There should have also been an explanation of what the monster really was. There was no special plot. Maybe if I understood it more I could have liked it more. It started well but then just faded away into nothing. The writing was good though. The descriptions were great. You have talent but you need a good plot and a climax somewhere. I give it 5/10.

  11. Fabulously done! Your imagery is absolutely wonderful. I am a little confused as to what the monster is. I thought vampire of sorts, but then she seemed to shape-shift into her prey while continuing to feed (I’m assuming there, too) on her. Either way, I’m blown away by this and would like to see more about this type of monster.

    I was unsure about the beginning. It felt a little odd, but I really think it works for this piece. It did hook me… and that is the intention with an opening.

    I do have to point out (because I am all judgy and whatnot) that it’s “all of a sudden,” rather than “all the sudden.” There are a few other mistakes in there, but that one grabbed me and the others aren’t anything that wouldn’t be caught in a quick edit.

    1. Amber Chiapetto

      Thank you! The monster is nothing specific. If you want something precise, I would say the monster is a representation of relationships that suck the life out of one person and the other person taking everything from them. They take everything you have, who you are, what you had been prior to them coming into your life. The monster is supposed to be taking all the things that make Bri what she is. We may not know what she is, since it is such a short story, but we know that she begins to forget, and she looks “desaturated”.

      The reason the monster looks like Bri at the end, and the reason that Bri is slowly bleeding to death is because, as this “relationship” continues, she remembers and sees what she once was while the wounds are all the times her partner hurts her, and she has no sense anymore of pain. She no longer understands that she is changing for the person she loves. And her partner is only using her as a way to fulfill her own desires and enjoys causing her pain because she wants to feel “something.”

      I hope that clears something things up. And sorry about the errors. I wrote the story at 2 in the morning.

      1. I like the idea that your monster is a metaphor, but I wasn’t looking for an explanation when I said I wanted to know more… I was hoping you’d expand on the monster in another pasta because it was such an intriguing idea. So many of the monsters that have been created and made popular by creepypastas are so ridiculous. What you’ve created here is akin to an Anne Rice vampire or Cassandra Clare’s mystical beings in The Mortal Instruments series. It’s bigger than a monster. It has substance and unique qualities.

        It is interesting to know your intention as the author, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that your art is subjective and, as your reader, I saw it as literal rather than metaphorical. Vampires in literature are often metaphors for drug abuse and lust (among other things, depending on the author), but they take a literal form as well. You’ve created enough here to see the literal, but the pasta itself doesn’t give the reader enough to draw out your metaphor for themselves (or maybe I just wasn’t perceptive enough to pick up on it–there’s that possibility).

        As for the errors… I reread my comment and it came off colder and more harsh than intended. I have no right to judge you… my hesitance to put out anything other than a polished piece has thusfar kept me from actually putting anything out there. I often write at odd hours, when my brain isn’t fully able to process the subtle nuances of poor grammar and punctuation, but I always wait until my head has cleared enough to edit it before letting anyone else see it… after all, it isn’t a term paper that’s due by 11:59pm and you’ve left it until the last minute. It’s art. Then again… you put it out there anyway and it got posted. You didn’t hesitate. You jumped. I cannot judge that.

        1. Amber Chiapetto

          I do thank you for the insight though! I might do another pasta, maybe with this monster. I’m the kind of writer who likes to mix the literal with the metaphorical, especially if it’s a mental, psychological issue like this one. I definitely can understand why people get so confused (especially in the short length this story has and the little info you get here). We’ll see what happens with this monster.

  12. Omg!! This is by far my favorite pasta, like EVER!!! I kinda got a Lilith/vampire vibe here and I loved the LGBT theme, please more, don’t leave us hankering!!!!

    1. Amber Chiapetto

      I’m not the greatest with grammar when a story come rushing to my story. Sorry about that (and I also wrote it around 2-3 in the morning). Did you not like it because of the errors, or were there things in the story you just didn’t like about characters, plot, etc?

      (P.S. I believe you meant “too many”, not “to many”.)

        1. Nope, it’s a useless nitpick, but “too many” would be correct. Too does mean “also,” but it is also used to mean something like “in excess” or “an abundance of.”( such as too many, too good, too few, etc)

      1. Funny how you correct me when you cannot correct yourself. But good job you’re improving already. I will check back up on the story and let you know.

        1. Yeah, I saw that a few days too late :/ I guess I should learn not to type anything up after 10 at night, because that happens, lol. And thank you :D

  13. Never read a creepypasta with lesbians in it before. Go LGBT!

    I really liked this creepypasta, but it had some parts where I just wasn’t exactly sure about.

    The start was quite weird, instantly saying we misunderstood something she said when she hasn’t even said anything yet. It looks like a sentence is missing at the very start of the story, maybe “I hate the dark. Now, I think you misunderstand what I mean when I say dark” or something like that, would have made the story easier to understand.

    The way the “monster” talked when describing how Bri looked was also weird. I have never heard someone speak like that before. She goes straight to the point, everything she’s saying pretty much translates to “you, me, bed, now”. I wish I was that confident when it came to asking girls out lol.

    The ending confused me too. Did the monster take over Bri’s body? If so, why does the monster hurt herself? I would guess you would want to keep a human in as good permission as possible. Or maybe Bri is locked up somewhere and the monster just shapeshifted into her, occasionally “punishing” her when she has free time. I have no idea what happened at the end, but I’m guessing one of these are right… hopefully I’m not just an idiot that doesn’t understand.

    Now, the way you described stuff in the story was amazing. I could imagine everything you talked about, the monster, Bri, the bloody nose, even the damn coffee was beautifully described. Although it got weird at times, like I mentioned above, it was just a great asset to this story, really giving it that push from good to possibly great.

    The last sentence I liked as well. It seemed like Bri was still in love with the monster, no matter what wounds it inflicted on her. Really makes you wonder if Bri actually has feelings for the monster or if her mind has been slightly brainwashed by whatever telepathic powers the monster have

    I’m giving this a 8/10, most of the issues I had with it were just personal ones, I could easily look past them and see the greatness that sat underneath. Loved it!

    1. Amber Chiapetto

      Hi, it’s the author here!

      I’d never seen a creepypasta with much LGBT either, so I’m happy to have written one like this!

      The monster isn’t taking over Bri’s body; it’s more like, she’s taking everything away from her, ripping it all away, including her own sense of self.
      She has lost who she is, and now the monster has become everything she had become at that point. It’s meant to be more of a metaphoric sembalence. Is that really what she looks like while she’s tearing her body apart? Who knows. She is an illusionary monster. There’s nothing to say that she really existed, as we never saw the monster speak to or interact with other people.

      The start of the story comes from Bri during her death. It’s not necessarily supposed to make sense, because she’s dying. The mind goes to odd, awful places during trauma (or to places we seek comfort). She could be in mid-conversation with someone, or something. But, either way, it’s supposed to be a bit puzzling.

      I’m so happy you loved this! Compared to my last Creepypasta (which didn’t go so well IMO), this one is my favorite and I’m happy others love it! Thank you!

      1. What a thought provoking creepypasta. Illusionary monsters taking everything away from you, even yourself. Now I’m questioning if the monster was “real” or a representation of her own mental issues. That’s amazing. This just made me love it even more

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