Recent Discussion

This Week's Active Posts

The Dead Zone
• Comments: 7 • Facebook: 31
What the Happiest Dreams are Made Of
• Comments: 13 • Facebook: 5
The Lost Chord
• Comments: 9 • Facebook: 5
The Naera
• Facebook: 12
Family of Three Plus One
• Comments: 5 • Facebook: 3

Your Favorited Pastas

  • Your favorites will be here.

Available Beta Readers

Whether you're looking for someone to help proofread and refine your creepypasta or you'd like to offer your help to writers in need of a second opinion, please check out the Available Beta Readers post!

Creepypasta Prompts

Have an idea for a great pasta, but lack the time or ability to see it through? Or do you have the time and the will to write a story, but your personal font of inspiration is running dry? The Creepypasta Prompts page should be helpful to people in both camps!

RSS Stories Looking For Feedback


July 6, 2015 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.7/10 (279 votes cast)

June, 2354

It’s hard to begin but let me preface this by saying that Earth does still exist, but it’s a wasteland. If you’re listening to this you need to know where you come from.

The scientists were right. Climate change was a real threat. In the early 21st century, the majority of the population was at odds with this decision. Facts pointed to a steady shift in climate changes dating back thousands of years prior to the dates of the test, which showed there was no indisputable evidence fingering us as the cause. Governments argued, scholars debated, and citizens either ignored the situation at hand or made lifestyle choices in an attempt to lower their carbon footprint. A consensus was eventually reached sometime in the mid 2000’s pointing towards a steady increase in heat and climate change.

This motivated many governments across the world to lower their carbon footprint. Recycling became mandatory under punishment of jail time. Solar panels were installed in every house, office building and establishment. Big name companies like BP, Shell, and Exxon lobbied through official channels stating that their rights were being impeded. It didn’t take long for laws to be passed eliminating the public consumption of fossil fuels. Nuclear facilities started to sprout up for means of electricity, car companies were forced to move to a renewable source of energy. Soon there were cars running on salt water, electricity, and solar energy.

Despite our efforts, it seemed as if the damage had already been done and was far past the breaking point. This became evident when Venice was on the brink of being submerged. In the year 2113, sea water covered the streets of this once historic city and a mandated evacuation order was given. Several Greek islands disappeared completely, and many beachside cities faced the real issue that was now on their doorstep.

Through our desperation, our innovation with technology greatly enhanced. As the seas rose, so did we as the human race. Anti-gravity technology was perfected and implemented in modes of transportation. All modes of travel had an absolute zero carbon footprint as cars were made from electric machines powered and lubricated from the sea water. They propelled themselves using magnets, and were automated to prevent haphazard driving, and affording the luxury of being able to sleep, eat, drink, read or otherwise relax while in transit.

Why is this important you might ask? It’s hard to describe how things are now without understanding the whole timeline of events. I need to stress the importance that nothing we did could have prevented this disaster. Nothing we did could have saved Earth or ourselves. Nothing could fix the damage that we caused, but on the large scale of things, it was a blade of grass on a field of strife.

We grew leaps and bounds. Colonizing Mars, setting up multiple space stations and developing faster than light travel. Well, by that, I mean we found a way to harness the universe’s power to create permanent worm holes to go to and fro between one solar system and the next. The issue was, since it was physically impossible to do this without actually being in the area to set up another wormhole, we had to travel to those areas first. This is where the problem lied. The closer to the speed of light you go, the more mass you have. This means that more energy is required to go faster. Even in the vacuum of space where mass is almost a non-issue, it becomes one. And that’s not even the end of the weirdness. Time changes, navigation is difficult, and then figuring out how to stop.

As of right now I’m traveling at .2 the speed of light towards HD 85512b, which is 40 light years from Earth, on a colonization mission we departed on 4 years ago. That’s .8 LY traveled, well out of our solar system and into the unknown. Over 500 citizens, including myself, are just one of the 18 ships that left Mars to further discover these habitable planets. We weren’t the first expedition, and with the new expected life span of humans, the 200 year trip is easily feasible.
With over 40 billion Earth-sized planets orbiting the “goldilocks zone” we had plenty to choose from. So in 2243, the first manned mission to Gliese 581-d departed. With Earth united under a single government, it wasn’t difficult to raise the funds and materials to put together a massive ship with enough spare materials to build a warp gate. The parts were shipped through the Earth-Mars warp gate and assembled there as Earth’s atmosphere was cluttered with space debris. The “Cosmos Reformation Act of 2236” prohibited building anything orbiting Earth except satellites anyways. They left with the intention of building a warp gate from Mars to Gliese 581-d. Let me point out that these names for planets are ridiculous, but the only way we can rename a planet now is to physically be there and colonize it. Another product of the Space Reformation Act.

Again…why is this important? You see, the problem was our Sun. March 18th, 2231 was the day everything happened. That day, called the Day of Desolation, the magnetic field surrounding Earth was stripped away, leaving the planet, and everything on it defenseless against the dangers of the sun. The worst part was no one knew it was coming. Our sun had a violent coronal mass ejection, 100 times that ever recorded before.

It takes 8 minutes for light from the sun to reach Earth, and there was no way in predicting this. Huge blasts of radiation battered the Earth killing billions. Some places were so completely devastated that there was no chance life would survive. Temperatures soared to 110 degrees at the poles, and even hotter towards the equator. This period started a mass exodus to Mars, which has a weak magnetic field, but it still offered some protection. Those left on Earth began a difficult period of life. Famine, drought, inhospitable locations and the constant threat of radiation forced us to reevaluate our position in the universe.
By 2243, Humans and animals became cave dwellers which was the only way to protect ourselves from the dangers of life outside. Another reason why we had to build the Genesis on Mars.
Work call, I’ll be back later to finish this if I have the time.

August 2354

I don’t think I explained why I’m writing this. The ship I’m on, the Tesla, is coming up to our 5 year anniversary of the start of our mission. A catalog of events is something that I needed. The before, during, and after. We didn’t take a lot of data with us in regards to history and why we are here. Journalism is hardly a priority when embarking into the unknown. So I’m taking it upon myself to write all of this down. Well, talk about it anyways. I don’t think I’ve touched a keyboard since history class. It’s also kind of hard to get over the fact that I’m talking to myself, but really, talking to you. It might make me sound crazy but it’s really a way to try to stay sane in this box of a room. Oh, that and that technical stuff earlier? When you’re leaving everything you know behind, you do as much research as you can so you can see the way forward.
I’m a culinary scientist, which is a real profession I assure you. My job on this mission is to study the flora and fauna and see what is possible to eat as well as ensuring the sustainability of the food on the Tesla. Everyone aboard the Tesla has something they bring to the table, with multiple people working the same job. I have 8 other coworkers monitoring the different nutrition stations here. It helps, it gives us time off to relax, watch movies, or whatever. Like to get this whole thing out.
As I mentioned earlier, famine was destroying us, we were living in caves, and there seemed to be no light of salvation at the end of our tunnel. Genesis was important to our survival. We had tried to live in the oceans but the instability of the temperature as well as the corrosiveness of the salt made any long term survivability low. Think about the famous shipwrecks of history. Did they last long? Not really in the grand scheme of things. This is why it was ultimately decided against and people opted to move to space exploration instead. Even with constant maintenance, the fact that the seas were rising yearly, and warming, it was only a matter of time before the land marks we were going to build would be subjected to a lot of additional pressure.
Famine became a very real issue for our population. Without fields to grow crops, and livestock to feed, synthetic materials were needed to be created in order to sustain us. There were hydroponic farms built underground so we weren’t completely isolated from organic fruits, vegetables and livestock, but they were rare and hard to come by in the days to come. But there was a way for them to survive, and live, even if it was underground.
Special suits had to be designed and made to protect us from the sun. It created importance in the infrastructure for scientists, construction workers, technicians and the like. They were largely evacuated to Mars to begin the building of the Genesis. All of our available resources went to this. It was our only chance to survive. We resorted to journeying to the asteroid belt and hunting down asteroids for minerals and materials to build the ship with.
Expedition ships aren’t without some teeth. We did develop working shields that will eliminate most space debris under a reasonable size. Meteorites on Mars are a very real and constant danger since there is little atmosphere. They needed to make sure that the Genesis would reach their destination safe. We can’t drive straight through a planetary object unscathed, nor do we have weapons with the ability to destroy said objects. It also takes a while for the power cells to recharge after a certain amount of volleys.
They also developed a new way to propel through space. Controlling anti-matter explosions enabled us to move very quickly. It wasn’t a new technology, but it was one that took a while to perfect. Anti-matter isn’t very easy to obtain, create or control. However, harvesting enough anti-matter to propel a ship at phenomenal speeds took a long time, and there was only enough to use it twice. Once to go forward, and once to stop. Steering would be relied on via atmospheric expulsions through vents.
I’m not sure if you’ve ever had to calculate a path in space before, but it’s hard. You need to know the position of where you are, where you will be when you finally take off, and where the planet will be so many years from when you started. If there was a problem in the final calculations, there was an option for inter-system travel, but that was it. If they couldn’t maintain the speed by the time they arrived and the planet wasn’t there, they had to wait until it came back around in orbit.
We solved the gravity problem on ships via using a few grams of a neutron star and isolating it in the middle of the ship. Just enough gravity that we don’t lose bone strength or atrophy during our flight. Electricity is powered by dual magnets and everything.
Fun stuff huh? Speaking of, I’m going to go for now. My co-worker Mike and I are going to go play some video games.

September 2354

We’re coming up on our anniversary! December is right around the corner! It’ll be nice to talk to my family again. Communication is going to take a long time to get there, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll get to see their response in a year or so. Depending on how long it takes for it to get there. Like I said before, everyone here is essential, so there are no free rides. I guess it’s good I’m not married, I don’t think I would have been able to do this if I had to leave my wife and kids behind. There are some couples here on Tesla, but reproducing is strictly against the rules. I’m not sure what they’d do, but we have exactly enough food for 500 people during the expedition.
That’s part of my job, maintaining the green house. Well, what we call a green house. A huge hydroponics area where fruit and vegetables are grown. Not options for meat except synthetic lab grown stuff, but you start to forget about it after a while. We recycle the water and filter out the impurities from grey and black water, but also restock every time we go through a hydrogen cloud. It’s amazing what this ship can do in terms of sustaining life. Though I guess it has to.

November 2354

I miss my family. One month to go. We looked ahead of what was in front of us, and we’re going to pass by a planet twice the size of Jupiter. It’s going to be amazing if the video we were able to get of it. The most amazing colors you can possibly imagine!

December 2354

I’m not sure what to say, or how to say it. What I just saw was hard to digest. In fact, I’m kind of glad this is coming off as text instead of video like most people are doing with their journals. I wouldn’t want to see myself right now.
We aimed our telescope back at Earth. And it’s almost gone…The sun. The SUN. The physicists here are amazed that something like this can happen in the small amount of time that we’ve been gone, but it did. Our sun, has gone red dwarf. This had to be explained to me, but apparently the sun doesn’t just explode and go into supernova. It grows. And grows. And right now, it’s already consumed Mercury completely.
The citizens living in caves have no hope ever seeing outside ever again, if they are still alive. The physicists told us that the whole world appears to be on fire. Everything that lived on that planet is now, or soon will be dead. Nowhere is safe. And my family is dead, or soon will be. I can’t even imagine the horror of being trapped underground while the world burns above you with no hope of getting out. It’s….horrible.
The Tesla’s Captain is doing what he can, but the ship has to be maintained. No time to mourn. Only to push forward…
I don’t think I can do this right now…

April 2355

Ok, I’m back. I spent a lot of days sitting in front of the monitor doing nothing, a lot of days idling at my work station barely getting my job done. Mike tries to cheer me up, but I had to be put on suicide watch with a lot of the other crew, which strained relationships with friends and other crewmembers. Having to have someone watch you eat, pee, dress, sleep, and everything else just to make sure you weren’t going to destroy yourself causes problems. I guess it was for good reason, we already had 12 people space themselves. Just walked into the airlock and set the sequence. They say you can last up to 2 minutes in space without protection. I’d hate to see or feel what happens in those 2 minutes, though I doubt it would be less pain then the void I have inside me right now.

June 2355

I’m still suffering from depression, and the doc said that this might be a good way to help find a way to cope with it or get over it completely. I fail to see how it will help. I fail to see how seeing a doctor will help. Who do they go to when they feel this way? They aren’t immune to the emotions of humanity, and they sure as hell aren’t alone when they lost just about everyone that they know to that goddamn star. I know for a fact my doctor lost his wife and kids, yet he seems rock solid. How can you be so emotionless? How can you be so cold?
I remember when my dad and I used to go to the beach and surf. We’d walk down from our house, which was just a few blocks away, carrying our surfboards. We used to spend all day out there, sometimes just watching the waves and listening to the rhythmic breathing of the ocean. It was therapeutic in a way. He told me that the Earth was a living breathing thing, just like we were. Treat it with respect, and it will take care of you. My dad was kind of a hippie.
Surfing was one of the few ways we bonded. My parents were divorced so when we saw each other, we spent time doing what we already knew instead of trying new things. I appreciated that. I knew what I was going to get into that week or month of summer vacation. Sitting around the beach, and listening to the Earth breathe.
My mother was an eccentric person, never staying in one place for too long. I think I changed schools and states just about every year. It wasn’t a military thing or a job related thing. She just got tired of the same scene day in and day out. It taught me survival if anything, learning how to adapt constantly being the new kid. Some places I ended up living were so far away from the ocean that my surfing mentality was looked at as weird. Other places, I was embraced. She tried her best to make sure I had an education and a house to live in. I think that’s what drove me to my line of work though. When you eat rice, beans, and noodles for the 3rd week in a row, you learn different ways to make them interesting again.
I don’t even know where she was when Earth got hit. Like I said, she moved around a lot. I think she was going on her fourth husband though. That never got awkward or anything.

August 2355

I still don’t think this is a good way to get over depression. Essentially what my doctor is telling me, is to bring up old memories and get them out. I’m sure he’s hoping for some revolutionary moment of revelation where I realize that I feel better and have a good cry. Or maybe he’s looking to try to read about some bad things that happened to me as a child. No, it’s not like that. All it’s doing is twisting a knife in a wound that refuses to heal.
It’s asinine. I can understand needing everyone to be at their best, because we are the last hope for humanity. Mars is getting hotter too, their ice caps are evaporating. But they said that it was going to stop eventually. I actually wish I was over there, on Mars. To see the transformation of a planet first hand has to be amazing, and terrifying all at the same time. I’d also be closer to my parents instead of flying millions of miles away. I’d have a chance to look at Earth and know that’s where they died, instead of looking at my picture and having that as my only means of coping. Seeing where they lay now…would do a lot of good.
All I have now are what I took with me. I didn’t even tell them goodbye. I didn’t even tell them that I loved them. Do you know how that feels? It tears me apart inside knowing that I called my dad an asshole, even jokingly. That’s the last thing I said to him…

October 2355

Still existing, if but barely, on this miserable husk called Tesla.

November 2355

Something big happened today. We had a huge issue with our food processing plant. An asteroid the size of a stadium showed up on the screens today. Normally, this wouldn’t be cause for concern, but it was moving pretty fast. Our weapons were able to destroy most of it, and it hit our shields. One big piece got through though, and crashed through the synthetic meat plant and several other stations and living quarters. It was horrible. I was 2 sections down in the green room when it hit. The impact knocked me on my ass, and a whole row of carrots landed on me. I must have been knocked out for a minute or two because when I woke up everyone was in a panic.
I tried the door but it was locked. The AI was screaming out orders in that cool and collective voice of hers. Telling us what areas have been breached and what has been sealed off. A rescue team ended up making it into the areas to see if there was anyone still alive. Whoever wasn’t sucked out into the vacuum brought to infirmary. Not that there was anything that could have been done. They were all dead. Everyone…
I don’t know if it makes me a bad person, but I feel nothing for their deaths. I don’t feel anything. I’m numb to the whole situation. Maybe it’s shock, maybe it’s disbelief and denial, but it doesn’t change anything. I knew everyone in the Meat plant too. We’ve been coworkers and friends for years, but, still….nothing. I’m beginning to think this mission is cursed, and can’t help but think about the other missions. Are they going through the same thing? Are they still gliding along in the dark waves of space? Or is rubble all that remains?

December 2355

The death tally is in. 73 people died from that asteroid impact, including 4 of my coworkers, and Mike. The meat plant is damaged beyond repair, and the parts to build another one are in the bundle of items needed to build the gate. So it looks like they might send a crew out to try to get it. For now the Captain has told the rest of the culinary crew needs to find a place for another green room and get more vegetables and fruit going. Without it, we won’t have enough food for the 400 something odd people still living on this ship. Looks like everyone is going to be a vegetarian for the next couple of years or so. We’ll probably only use the meat from storage for special events.
The damage to the meat plant is a huge hit, and puts a big strain on me and my job. Now we have to train random people, who have jobs elsewhere, to learn how to cultivate and farm. 5 people can’t do the job of nine without falling out.
This whole thing sucks. I wish I never stepped foot on this slab of metal.

March 2356

Food supplies are running low. Even with the second greenroom, we don’t have enough to sustain the amount of people we have here. We’ve been moved to a bare minimum calorie diet. Store room are under armed guard. There’s no way we can survive if they don’t get those meat plant parts from storage. Even then, we’d have to be on this diet for at least another year until it gets up and running and calibrated. Last time I checked, we have food for the next few months, maybe more if no one steals from storage.

July 2356

The Captain’s called for marshal law and gave out curfews. Security roams the halls constantly. There’s been an outbreak in cannibalism. A group of people have been picking off undesirables and eating them. They even leave that word written in blood above their dismembered corpse. Undesirable. I haven’t come across one yet, but it makes me nervous. They’ve all been janitors, mechanics, and low security workers so far. But what happens when they’re all gone? Who then? I spend all my time away from my lab in here. Safe.
The food shortage is hitting everyone hard. I guess that’s the benefit of being a culinary guy. I never have to go hungry. But I can’t let them find out about that….no. That would be bad. Though I suppose the brig is safer than anywhere else.

August 2356

The undesirables are still out there. This time it was a medic, a young woman. They played her screams over the ship wide radio. Those screams are the sound track to my nightmares. The Captain has ordered lock down in all areas. No one is allowed to leave without permission. The Captain is also mandating GPS chips being put into everyone as a way of tracking them. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but what do I know…I’m just a farmer with a college degree.

December 2356

He was one of them…The Captain was one of them. Security caught him in a maintenance locker with an arm. I quickly cut out the chip in my arm and threw it in the toilet. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. Somehow, I knew. But the attacks haven’t stopped…no…They keep going, and going and going. And every time, it’s someone screaming over the intercom. Every time it’s someone begging for mercy. I know what you’re thinking. Call out the person’s name right? When that happens, they’re next. They’re found right next to them. I don’t know how many are in the group, and that frightens me. You can’t trust anyone anymore. Just this computer. So I will. Alone. I just wish they wouldn’t play their screams over the radio…

April 2357

No one can save us, so no rescue mission will be launched. They can’t catch up…We’re on our own.

May 2357

I managed to steal a field processing unit capable of growing and producing a small amount of grains fruit and vegetables. It takes up half my room, but I’d rather lose the space then have to go out there. More screams, more attacks. I’ve lost track on how many exactly, but it’s well over a hundred. I don’t even know if it’s real anymore. Occasionally I’ll hear some banging outside of my room, and I freeze up. I know it’s not over yet. It sounds like chaos out there sometimes. Like a war right outside my door. I’m going to barricade myself in just in case.

August 2357

What I wouldn’t do to talk to someone living. I’ve tried talking to the plants, but they don’t talk back. THEY DON’T TALK BACK. They never talk back…good little boys never talk back….
It’s hard to keep up with a journal when nothing interesting happens. What am I supposed to say? Dear Journal, woke up, took a shower, sat on the bed, went to the bathroom and so on? This computer is disconnected from the AI so it doesn’t know I’m using it, or else I’d have movies and shows to watch. Instead, I just look at the picture of my dad, and wonder what if.

January 2358

I wonder what part of me they’d eat first…it must be exciting to them, since the screams have stopped mostly. A fresh body, inside a can, waiting to be opened. They would be so happy. Not me though, I don’t think I’d be happy about that. I almost wonder what it tastes like. I bet I could do something amazing with it. I’d offer my services but it seems that I’m an unwelcome guest on this ship.

March 2358

My window is dirty, but the scenery never changes. How do we even know we’re moving?

September 2360

My dad’s here. He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, and looks at me disapprovingly. Like I did something wrong. ME. I didn’t do anything wrong. QUIT LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!
I know he’s dead, but he’s still here. I’d ask my doctor about it but he murdered three of his patients a while back already. Dressed them up as his son, and put them near his bed. He scolds them whenever they do something wrong. I saw him dragging one around when I snuck out to get some stuff for my plants.

February 2361

You know what flies? But stays still? Me. I don’t think we’re moving anymore. The stars never change. I might as well put a picture up instead! What picture? What would I paint? I know what it’ll be, but it’s a surprise. I’ll show you, but you can’t tell anyone.

March 2361

Couldn’t find anything to draw with, so I cut myself and drew some blood. It’ll do just fine.

April 2362

They banged on my door last night. They know I’m here. I don’t know how, I’ve been hiding for years. YEARS! George is the leader of the beans, he told me that I should just give up. My father told him to shut up. At least he’s talking now, it was so lonely without them. Even if George is an idiot. Yeah, that’s right George….No maybe you should learn about other people’s feelings before you talk you idiot! I’m sure it’s all just a game outside and they want me to play.


August 2362

Do you see what I drew? Do you? LOOK AT IT! Open your fucking eyes and LOOK AT IT! I know you can see me. You’re writing down what I’m saying. If it has a ears then it has eyes and a mouth so look at it! Go on…I’ll wait.

May 2363

They’re here! They’ve finally realized I’ve been trapped in this room for years calling for help! I can’t move the stuff that’s in front of the door, but they said they’re going to cut their way around it! Finally, I can go home!

June 2363

They’ve been trying for weeks to get through, but no luck. What if I’m stuck here forever? What if I never escape? I want to kill the person that put me in here. I want to destroy them…

June 2363

Don’t forget, scream into the microphone, or it’s going to hurt worse.
Open your mouth and SCREAM!

No audio input for 20 continuous minutes, terminating recording.
End of file

Credit To – Soulex?

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.7/10 (279 votes cast)
LineWhatsAppTumblrFacebookTwitterRedditPinterestGoogle GmailGoogle+StumbleUponShare

The Man in the Black Hat and Suspenders

July 5, 2015 at 12:00 PM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.1/10 (502 votes cast)

As many stories here on Creepy-Pasta start off, cliché or not; I have never told anyone these stories. This will be the first time I document them anywhere. I may have mentioned an event or two to a few buddies and lovers, but never the full story. I don’t expect anyone to believe me, or even read this, or for it to get posted in general, but as others say, “it’s worth a try”.

I’m going to start off this document saying I am a 20 year old Psychology student, ironically enough, huh? I am completely sane, as anyone would defend themselves to be. I am not a writer, not a story teller, and definitely not someone who is going to get off on people reading this. I am just someone passing along an experience.

As a child I witnessed some very traumatic events being that my father would abuse my mother; nearly took her life while I sat crying in the next room. I’ve always felt that after surviving a situation like that, I could deal with just about anything, but now I know I’m wrong. When I was five years old, I started to experience what many Spanish heritage mothers would call “guardian angels” watching over me. It began with animals, seeing puppies hop around my bed at night, and horses trot through my room. The best were when I saw roaches that weren’t there crawling up my walls. Many kids would think this was cool, but it freaked me out because I knew they weren’t there. I’d tell my mother, and she’d chalk it up to over imagination and early signs of being a veterinarian. Did I mention I major in Psychology?

By the time I turned 7-8 years old, I was only seeing the puppies, but they were much calmer. They’d sit in corners of my room or at the edge of my bed and hardly pay me any mind, so I stopped paying them any mind. The new experience was floating skulls and bones. You know that fuzzy vision you experience when you’re about to get a killer migraine? Well that’s what these floating skeletons looked like. They were just out of my field of vision and they floated from the ground to the ceiling.

Now before I go any further, I lived in New York in a 6 story high apartment complex. This story isn’t going to end with “I discovered I was living on a pet cemetery that my house had been built on”, no. I am just telling you what I saw.

I’d tell my mother about these experiences and she’d just say a prayer and send me back to bed, never thought much of it besides “over active imagination” and bad headaches. That’s when it all stopped, or at least I think. I can’t remember having any experiences from the age of 8 to the age of 13. By the time I was in my last year of Junior High however, I was going through a pretty dark phase in life. No I wasn’t painting my nails black and dying my hair even darker, but I wore dark baggy unattractive clothes, and lost myself in the sounds of screaming music. My eyes had bags no matter how much I slept, and the word “tan” was not in my vocabulary. I was pale and dead looking and I couldn’t understand why.

This is when it began.

I started waking up at night feeling as if my step father had come into my room, and I say step father because I would distinctively sense a male in the room. I thought “maybe he’s just checking up on me and my younger sister” and I’d peek over the bunk-bed and I’d see him scurry out of the room realizing he had woke me up. Some nights he’d just stand in the door way, cross his arms and watch us while we slept. I found it annoying but I got used to it and I would just turn over and fall back to sleep.

I’m sure you can guess where this is going, but for those of you who can’t, I’m going to continue.

It began to get on my nerves, being woken up at such late hours just because he wanted to make sure we were resting and not staying up all hours of the night, so I decided to complain. Being that he was just my step father, I didn’t have the confidence to corner him and tell him to knock it off, so I went to my mother. She thought it was strange immediately and asked me to explain.

“Mom, he comes in in that tacky black hat, and those black suspenders, and just stands there for who knows how long…”

“Jess, he’s a construction worker, when do you ever see that man in suspenders or wearing a hat that isn’t yellow and hard?”

And that folks, is when it hit me. She was completely correct. Not to mention, I had never even seen this man’s face or his clothes exactly. It was far too dark at night. Yet I was able to completely explain what he was wearing and how he stood with his arms crossed.

“Maybe I’ve been having bad dreams. I’m stressed out a lot lately. Never mind it.” I remember telling my mom. But she wouldn’t brush it off so easily. She began asking questions and talking to family members about it. So I stopped telling her that it was happening. I’d still wake up in the middle of the night, and without even looking over at the corner of my room where the door was, I could tell it was there, whatever it was. I’d just roll over and force myself to fall asleep, but I was scared. I couldn’t take it anymore. For an entire week, the air in my room was heavy with anger and darkness that I just couldn’t shake off. My younger sister never experienced any of this, it was just me.

I did mention I was on the top bunk right?

Well one night, I was in a deep sleep, but was quickly awoken by the sensation of someone climbing onto my bed and sitting themselves at the edge. Funny side note: the ladder to get onto my bed was to my left, this sensation came from my right, the right side in which the bed was propped right up against the wall.

As I felt the entire corner of my bed sink in as if someone had just sat down, I freaked. I lost it and freaked. I sat up with my eyes wide open, trying to absorb as much light and make out what was in the dark, but there was nothing. I could still feel something leaning against my leg and within a second, I felt as if it leaned right over into my face and I threw myself right back down onto my pillow.

I was “pooping” bricks, for lack of better terms. I threw my blanket over my head and held my breath. I assumed whatever had been occupying the corner of my room had gotten bold and tried to join me in bed, but that’s when I realized throughout the whole event, I still sensed him in that corner of my room. That means that whatever had made its way into my bed was not the same entity I had grown used to staring me down at night. No, this was something else.

Now I use the words “entity”, and “sensed”, because it is the only way I can explain it, however, I never felt that it was a “ghost” or “spirit” or “demon”, in fact, I never got a bad vibe from any of it until that night. I was always just annoyed by it. The next morning, when I was finally brave enough to get out of bed, I told my mother what had happened. She did the motherly thing (Hispanic motherly thing anyways) and called in “clairvoyant” to cleanse the house. She even bathed me in some type of cleansing bath that looked a lot more like soup than anything else. Honestly, I don’t entirely believe in that stuff either. I believe it is just about negative energy and positive energy, like if you wake up and say I’m going to have a bad day, then you will have a bad day, or if you wake up smiling and say you will have a great one, then chances are you may still have a terrible one, but you will handle it with a much more positive attitude. However, this bath worked. I gained color in my skin almost instantly, I was more comfortable in pinks and yellow and blue clothing. I was much more alive and everyone could see it.

Not much besides that changed. I stopped seeing this man in my room, but he was still around the house, on the couch when I came home, or walking through the kitchen. I learned to deal with it until it finally just stopped. It all stopped.

I’m not sure how this tied into the puppies I saw as a child or the skulls and bones floating in my field of vision, but it happened and I have no explanation for it.

Now you may be wondering why I am writing about this since it all stopped, like what’s the big deal then anyways right? Well, I found a photo today while cleaning out some things at my mom’s place now that I’ve got an apartment with my fiancé. The photo is of a little girl who looks a lot like me when I was younger, and a man in a black hat and suspenders standing behind her with arms crossed. She looks to be waving at the camera and they are positioned in front of a large building titled “The New Jersey State Lunatic Asylum”. This hospital is real, and is now called the “Trenton Psychiatric Hospital”, still operational, however this photo is old, and on the back of the photo are the words “He was never there”. The photo was in an envelope with “You Asked” written across it”.

Now I don’t know what to think, but I am going to do some research on this place and see if I can figure out why someone who looks exactly like my younger self is in this photo with a man I know but have never physically met. I am looking for all the help I can get. I know this story isn’t your average scary tale, but it is real. I need answers. I need to know why I went through this as a child. I need to know what sucked the life out of me so many years ago, and what made it so easy to get back, and why it all just stopped. I wouldn’t care anymore if it wasn’t for this photo. Also, I can’t be the only person who has experienced something like this, can I? I, like many other users on Creepy Pasta, will use this as a way to document what I discover. Until then.

Credit To – Jesh UnSolved

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.1/10 (502 votes cast)
LineWhatsAppTumblrFacebookTwitterRedditPinterestGoogle GmailGoogle+StumbleUponShare

The Bellringer

July 4, 2015 at 12:00 PM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 7.8/10 (321 votes cast)

The school bell in the old high school rung like it does every night at 12 but nobody knows who rings it. Nobody knows why either. Some say that the bells are rung to call all of the spirits to the school, but that might just be part of an urban legend. I don’t know why the bell rings, but I do know who or what it is that’s ringing it. But to be honest, I wish I didn’t know. I wish I was just like everybody else who is left to wonder every night at twelve, who is ringing that damn bell?

The school was shut down in 1992 after a series of mysterious deaths took place inside the school. Some people in the town believed that it was haunted by the spirits of the teens who were killed in the school back in 1972. Some say they heard whispers as they walked by and some say they’ve seen people staring at them through the windows. Nobody was ever brave enough to spend over an hour in the school. The longest anybody had ever spent was forty five minutes and that was during the daylight, but myself and my partner, Charlie had agreed to spend an entire night in the school for our webshow ‘Ghosts Seekers.’

We came all the way from Australia and arrived at the school at 11:30, just before midnight. We gathered all of our equipment. Flashlights, cameras and everything else we used for our ghosts seeking. We entered the building, kicking the pile of empty bottles and soda cans on the way. I was up for the challenge, but deep down inside, I was secretly afraid and I know that Charlie was as well. I wish we knew what we were getting into.

“Hello!” Charlie yelled, his voice echoing through the school. We had our cameras on record and our flashlights in our right hands as we walked through the halls of the abandoned school. Everything was calm for the first fifteen minutes until we heard the sound of a locker closing. The sound echoed throughout the building. Every sound pretty much had an echo to it. We decided to follow the sound down the hall where the old gym was. According to our research, eight students were killed in the gym and we thought that would be a good place to start.

When we entered the gym, we could immediately feel that something was in there, we didn’t need our EMF to be sure. The air was cold and the sound from our walkie-talkie’s were nothing but static. Something was interfering with the signal. We at least had some light from the moon that shined through the large windows so it wasn’t completely dark. As we were walking through the gym, the bell in the bell tower went off…it must have been midnight. I saw the bell tower through the gym windows and at the time, I thought maybe I was imagining things because I saw someone up there. It was a silhouette of what appeared to be a man. I shook it off and continued what I was doing.

Despite the obvious fact of a presence, we weren’t getting much activity in the gym. No whispers, no footsteps, nothing. It wasn’t until we were heading out that something happened. A basketball suddenly came rolling towards us from the back of the room, an area where the light wasn’t shining. It was an old dusty ball and I admit that it had me feeling really uneasy about the situation. I was a veteran at ghost hunting but I had never experienced something like that. It wasn’t much though, compared to what happened next.

We were walking through the halls of the second floor when I noticed something weird about one of the rooms. I looked through the rectangular glass and I noticed a tv was on. It was strange because there was no power in the school. As I continued looking, I was startled by a sudden darkness that covered my view. It was just completely dark, as if someone or something were blocking it off.

“Ay mate,” I said to Charlie. “There’s someone in there.”

“No way there is,” Charlie said before looking through the glass himself. We were both shocked and the reason for that was because we never actually saw a spirit before. All we ever saw were dark shadows in the footage we caught. But this wasn’t a shadow, this was something more sinister. According to our research, this was the room where the killer shot himself. He was dressed in all black. When I looked back inside the room, the TV was off and whoever was standing in front of the door, was gone. It was standing there for over a minute and I was honestly ready to make a run for the door but Charlie kept me from doing so. I wish he hadn’t.

We continued walking through the halls, by this time, we were hearing all kinds of noises echoing throughout the school. We heard footsteps, lockers opening and closing and we heard loud crash noises that sounded as if something was being thrown. It seemed like the more we stayed in there, the weirder things would get. Charlie thought that if we split up, we’d be able to get more footage faster. ‘The more footage we get, the less time we’ll spend in here’ he claimed. Though I agreed with him, I didn’t think it was worth it. Nonetheless, I found myself wandering the halls alone.

“See anything weird yet, mate?” Charlie asked through his walkie-talkie. Thankfully, I wasn’t hearing or seeing anything strange. I kept walking down the halls, my flashlight suddenly started flickering. The batteries were just put in there, there was no way it could have been dying, but it did and I found myself alone in the dark. Or maybe I wasn’t alone.

“My bloody flashlight died,” I said into my walkie. No reply. “Charlie? Are you there?”

Static. Nothing but static. I could hear someone trying to say something.

“He’s behind you,” whispers from the walkie. I turned around, but I didn’t see or hear anything. I stood there in the dark, amazed I had yet to piss my pants. A minute or two later, I heard a scream that echoed through the halls. It was Charlie. I didn’t know what to do. I screamed his name, I called to him over the walkie-talkie but got no answer. I froze in fear and I didn’t move until I heard a voice echoing through the halls. It sounded as if they were far away, like on the other side of the school.

“Steve! Where are you?”

“I’m over here!” I yell. “I can’t see shit, mate!” I start walking and then suddenly…I was grabbed and pulled into the corner. I was screaming, tried to fight him off until I realized, it was Charlie. “Don’t do that, mate!” I yelled. “I heard you calling me, why didn’t you answer back?”

He had a strange look on his face, I could see in his eyes how terrified he was. “That wasn’t me, mate.” He said. “I never called you.”

We decided that the fame, ratings or any of that stuff was no longer worth it. We replaced the batteries in our flashlights and walked back to the front entrance. We reached the entrance minutes later, but for some reason, the door was locked. We kicked it, punched it, rammed it with our shoulders, but it would not open. We were trapped and we realized there was probably no way out. Somebody or something didn’t want us to leave. So we decided to stay put. We had our backs against the door and we didn’t move. I was greatly regretting ever stepping foot in that damn school and I’m sure Charlie was as well.

I woke up about thirty minutes later, I must have dozed off. I looked around, Charlie wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Charlie!” I whispered into my walkie. “Where the bloody hell are you?” No answer. Just static. I stood up on my feet and I noticed someone at the end of the hall. They were just standing there, about fifty feet away. “Charlie? Is that you, mate?” I started to walk slowly toward whomever it was. I heard my pulse beating, echoing through the halls. My breath, swiftly moving in and out of my mouth. My footsteps, faintly touching the floor.

As I got closer, I realized it was not Charlie at all. I stood still but I could still hear my pulse beating, my breath still moving swiftly in and out. He was just…staring at me. He was probably staring at me the whole time I was asleep, the whole time I was slowly walking toward him. He was in some black janitor suit and his face was pale with multiple stitches all over. His eyes were dark, I saw the evil within. His head was tilted sideways as he continued to stare.

I didn’t understand what it was I was looking at. I’ve never seen a spirit so real before, but he wasn’t just a spirit…he was a demon.

“RUN!” Something from my walkie yelled and it most certainly wasn’t Charlie. I ran, I didn’t know where I was running to, I just ran and I didn’t look back. I ran into a classroom on the other side of the school and I locked the door, knowing that if whatever it was was a spirit, a locked door wouldn’t stop it but it made sense at the time. I stayed in there for about ten minutes, it was dark and I didn’t know rather or not someone else was in the room with me.

“Steve? Steve it’s me!” It was coming from my walkie.

“Where the bloody hell are you Charlie?”

“I don’t know…I…I woke up in some room.”

“What room? Where are you, mate?”

I could hear him weeping through the walkie. “Steve…I’m scared,” he cried. I started tearing up myself, I never heard him cry like that before. I’d known him since we were 14 and I’d never heard that.

“It’ll be okay Charlie, we’ll be okay,” I cried, hoping I was right. He was weeping uncontrollably. I knew that something was wrong.

“You don’t understand, mate.” He cried. “Look to the right corner of the room.” I lifted my flashlight, I didn’t understand what the hell was going on. I pointed to the corner and I literally froze in fear. I dropped the walkie to the floor. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t…he was dead. Charlie was dead. “I’m sorry, mate.” That was the last time I ever spoke to him.

I didn’t understand how he died, there was no blood, no cuts or anything. I guess he saw something…something that literally took his breath away. I didn’t even think about how I was talking to him over my walkie even though he was clearly dead. The only thing I thought about was that my best friend of twenty years was gone and I didn’t know what to do next. I thought about it and I realized it must have happened when we split up. His scream, I kept thinking about his scream.

I lay there with his body and I woke up hours later to the sun shining upon my face. I’d never been so happy to see the sun. I figured it was over. I pulled out my phone and I was finally able to call the police. They arrived, and I was finally free of that school and whatever haunts it. I drove away, never looking back. That school needs to be burned down and hopefully it can kill the demon that lives within it.

I can’t go anywhere anymore without feeling like I’m being watched. I was traumatized and I still am. I saw what can never be unseen and no matter how many hours of therapy I go through, I’ll never be the same person I was before. I wonder if anyone ever seen Charlie through the windows, or even heard his whispers as they walk by. If they had, I hope they weren’t scared because Charlie was a great guy. If you ever see him, tell him Steve said hi and that he misses him dearly.

I don’t think I will ever forget what happened in that school. I would never forget the sound of that bell and I would never forget the demonic face of the thing that rings it. I could see him now, standing up on that bell tower, waiting for midnight and waiting for…his next victim.

Credit To – Clyde Jacobs

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 7.8/10 (321 votes cast)
LineWhatsAppTumblrFacebookTwitterRedditPinterestGoogle GmailGoogle+StumbleUponShare

Those Fine Young Gentlemen, Part Three: Dandy.avi

July 3, 2015 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 7.9/10 (97 votes cast)

This is part three and the final portion of the Those Fine Young Gentleman series.


First off let me say that I am ok, these past few weeks I’ve been in and out of the hospital. Ever since I spoke to Sarah I’ve been getting sicker and sicker but the doctors say I’m on the up swing. Even though I’m still stuck in this bed I’m feeling well enough to get the word out to you guys. I suppose I should start when I went to go and find the old man that sold Brad the Dell.

I can’t understand what happened but there wasn’t an old man. I don’t think Brad lied to me but when I went to the address where he had said the man had set up his yard sale I found only an empty lot. There wasn’t a house anywhere near it for almost half a block. I went to a few gas stations in the area and asked around about local yard sales or flea markets, thinking that maybe Brad had just gotten confused as to where he picked it up. The only flea market I could find had a strict rule about what as allowed to be sold. No appliances of any kind and the lady stressed that this included used laptops and computer parts. She said it was an attempt to make sure people weren’t ripped off.

No new information on David and when I search for him on sites like facebook I can’t actually find him. Now if I look for him on the Dell it is a different story and one that is really beginning to bother me. I can find his facebook page but the information keeps changing. His address is never the same, neither is his job history. Sometimes he worked as a toll operator for a bridge in Point Pleasant, WV. Other times he was a First Sargent at the Dulce Air Force Base in Dulce, NM. It is like this damn computer is taunting me. Also I see the eye icon now on everything. My own computer, my personal laptop, my tablet, hell even my phone. No viruses are detected when I check, everything is squeaky clean. I even factory reset my main rig and it was still there.

While the search for David didn’t yield much, I did find some information on Sarah. She was the one he was looking for after all but she wasn’t all that hard to find, well what’s left of her anyway. I found her after checking hospitals for women being admitted around the date that is time stamped on dandy.avi. (I will…I will get into that in a minute) A young woman was admitted to Chandler memorial hospital around that time suffering from shock, malnutrition and trauma.

I went there and pretended to be looking for my sister Sarah. Gave the woman at the front desk a sob story about how I had been out of the country for college and my friend told me she had been admitted here a while ago but that I hadn’t been able to contact her or find anything about her location since I got back. She seemed pretty skeptical till I broke down and begged her to help me find my only family left, since our parents were both dead. I laid it on thick and she finally told me that Sarah had been transferred to the Fairchild Treatment Facility for Mental Illness.

Getting in there wasn’t actually as hard as I thought it would be, they allow and seem to encourage 24 hour visitation. I just had to call and explain what the hospital had told me and they said to come down whenever I wanted. They verified she was there and I just walked in, got a badge and found her in the day room. That whole place had that sterile stink to it, like you know that if you breath in deep enough you might get a whiff of the malignancy in the air. One man sat in front of a TV masturbating vigorously, the TV was tuned to a children’s show with hand puppets. The whole time I was there he never once looked away or stopped. Sarah wasn’t very talkative and by that I mean she only said one thing over and over no matter what I asked her. “How’s the weather?”

She looked so thin, like all her meat was gone and all she had left was a little gristle under the skin. She was pretty once but now her face is gaunt and her brown hair, dull and ratty. It was her eyes though that struck me the most. They were orange and I don’t mean the kind of orange-red from irritation, I mean seaside sunset bright. I sat with her for hours, trying anything and everything to get her to say something other than “How’s the weather?”


I think now it is time to talk about what was on dandy.avi and what I think really happened. The video was about her, it was about Sarah.

The video starts in darkness and laughter. The camera focuses in and out, bringing blurred shapes together. Someone says something about low light settings and with some ruffling in the background everything suddenly comes into focus. Sarah and four other people sit around a wooden table covered in beers and glasses. She looks so happy and healthy, one of the men at the table leans over and plants a kiss on her cheek and she swats at him playfully. You can hear over the sounds of the party a loud “HEY! HEY!” and the man puts his hands up smiling.

“Sorry David, I’m just over here trying to steal your girl. No need to get all alpha male on me brah.” He says to the camera.

“Look when I agreed to this whole threesome thing I wasn’t going to be the odd man out behind the camera.” A hand pops out from the side of the screen and gives the guy a light punch.

“Who agreed to a threesome?” Sarah tries to keep a straight face and look upset at them but she constantly cracks a smile.
“Well we were going to tell you see babe but we figured a few beers might help.” David says, his voice distorted.

“Dude she is going to kick you in the nuts. I swear it was all a joke Sarah! kill his future children not mine.” The other guy jumps up from the table, making a show of cupping his crotch. He falls over however and everyone howls with laughter. The camera shakes, causing the party on the screen to sort of bleed into each other before it finally cuts out. The date stamp on the bottom reads April 30, 2013.

It cuts away to Sarah’s face. Her eyes open and close, they are bright green and her cheeks are flushed, her lips seem swollen and you can hear small huffs of breath. The camera sways up and down. Her face suddenly tightens and turns red, she whimpers and covers her eyes with her arm. Her breathing comes in strained gasps. “You’re so beautiful.” David whispers above her, “You love me?” Sarah nods, the camera suddenly shoots forward and she yelps. All you can see at this point are parts of colorful pillows and her hair. “Say it.’

“I love you, I love you.” She repeats this over and over, broken only by the sound of lips meeting again and again. The date still says April 30,2013. This carries over to the next part off the video and never changes. It is always frozen at 00:00 April 30, 2013. I can’t find anything really significant about this date. The next scene still gives me chills just thinking about it, not from anything like what I’ve seen so far but more from the realness of it. How raw it looks, how honest.

Sarah turns on the camera and wipes at her face. Her eyes are puffy and wet, it is obvious she’s been crying. Her voice sounds dejected and weak and she keeps looking around the room, which I gather by now must be her bedroom. Some of the pillows on the messy bed look familiar.

“So who would have guessed it would come back. Been in fucking remission for 6 years but now a nice family of tumors has taken up real estate right here.” Sarah digs a finger into the left side of her head. “That’s prime space. Inoperable. I never thought I wouldn’t understand a word until Doctor Heiz said that. Inoperable. Why not just say ‘Your dead Sarah’ or hand me a pamphlet for ‘Which Coffin is Right for You?’ ” She breaks down at this point, I watched her sob and rage and scream for ten minutes. I don’t know why she decided to record herself, what it was meant to be. Maybe some sort of video blog or a message for someone, I really don’t know.

It hit me hard when I watched it for the first time. I lost my grandmother to cancer and she put out a video card for Christmas. That’s how she told everyone. Watching Sarah fall apart made me think of how my grandma must have handled the news. Did she cry and scream? Did she laugh maybe , unable to process it all? Did she just sit there in the doctors office and think that there wouldn’t be any more Christmases? Even though I’ve watched this video a hundred times, that part always tugs at me.

A good chunk of the rest of the video is corrupted. All you can see every now and then are flashes of a candle lit circle made out of what might be chalk, close up shots of a chicken’s head speckled in blood with one of its eyes poking out. The audio is a strange mix of low chanting in some language I’ve never heard before and the calls of animals; Dogs growl and monkeys scream, sometimes a loud gnashing drowns everything out. This goes on and on for almost another two hours before things finally even out in a jarring cut away to David yelling at some Asian man in a door way.

“Where the hell is she you fuck?!” David shouts at the small man from behind the video camera. He is old and balding, with his skin having an unnatural sheen to it, as if he had covered himself in baby oil. He sulks back against the door as David continues to yell at him but doesn’t turn and go inside. The man looks distressed and badly shaken. “Just tell me, I know she saw you every day. Did you hurt her? get her all doped out on this new age medicine shit and touch her? you fucking piece of shit!” David pushes the man back into the dark room and the camera goes crazy.

Flashes of every color you could imagine in shapes I don’t have names for fill the screen and all you can hear is a high pitched scream. Then that eye icon flashes for a second and the old man comes into view, sitting in the floor bathed in the stark green of night vision. David keeps shouting “Oh shit” over and over while swinging the camera around the room. There must have been dozens of small heads on the wall. Some were just skulls, others with bits of flesh still on them and a few looked horrifyingly fresh. Babies. The old man starts to yell.

“It was supposed to work. They lie, the four, not the ones I called for help. They lie, bringing it over. It over. It.” The man springs up and points at David. “They lie.” He shouts one last time before the camera is suddenly in a park. Just like that. One minute the frame shows the old man in the room and the next a sunny park. David’s ragged breathing can be heard and his shocked curses. The camera topples to the ground and I catch a glimpse of him with his head in his hands sobbing. Then the video ends, simply cutting out.

When I first saw this I decided to do some digging. If Sarah really had been seeing someone who had the dead heads of children on his walls things must have a tangible trail. That isn’t something you just keep hidden. Sure enough I poked around and found a news report about a Doctor Syun and the closing of his “Natural Healing for a Better You” clinic. There wasn’t any mention of dead babies but the place closed down around the time stamp and I found out that Doctor Syun had committed suicide right after. That little discovery turned out to lead to something unbelievable and my take on what must have happened.

Doctor Syun had been a popular man and several memorial pages were set up for him. Former patients talked bout how his treatments had managed to cure diseases other doctors has deemed terminal. Reading through his biography I became more and more intrigued. He had studied medicine at Tulane University and graduated with honors but then he went on to run a fee clinic in the French Quarter of New Orleans. It was a few years later that the good doctor went on to open a holistic center where he began to practice alternative medicine and build his reputation.

Some of David’s searches and notes were starting to make sense but it was only after I managed to track down Doctor Syun’s assistant on his memorial page did things start to fall into place. When I finally got in contact with the assistant I decided to throw caution to the wind and tell her everything. I explained the Dell, the chat logs, the Gentlemen, everything. She didn’t reply to me for a long time and I figured I might have just blown it by running her off but then she sent me this email. I’ll post the body of the text, so you can make what you want from it. This is the only thing she ever sent me.

~I don’t pretend to know everything doc was doing and I don’t believe half of it. You would have better luck telling your story to one of his root doctor friends in that bayou he loved so much. All I know is what I’ve seen and what I’ve seen is enough for me to give you this advice. Burn that computer. Burn your computer. Burn everything. I was with him when he had his sessions with Sarah and what happened was like nothing I had ever seen before. They went into her, out of her, they shone out of her eyes so bright I didn’t think I would ever see again. But they were calling something. Bringing it with them. That’s what he said anyway. I’ll never know what I saw that day and I’ll never forget it. You don’t want that. Burn it all.~

I feel I’ve managed to piece together an idea of what happened. I’m not a praying man, I don’t make many waves when it comes to faith but I do believe that something is out there. We are floating in a vast darkness, only able to see a thread of the tapestry of the universe. Who knows what wonders are out there, who knows what horrors. I think the doctor found a way to see a little bit more of our world and the things in it and he used that to help people.

Voodoo actively encourages possession by spirits, so that they might heal the body. I think Sarah was desperate enough to try anything and when Doctor Syun tried to heal her something took a turn and the wrong kind of spirits entered her. Now if these spirits are the Gentlemen I don’t know. How David got in contact with them is anyone’s guess at this point. I think something with that eye icon might be a connection and if that is the case then I’m torching every last scrap of tech when I get home.

For right now though these meds are kicking my ass and I’ve got to lay down. I’ll keep you all posted should anything else happen.

Credit To – R.A Brewster

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 7.9/10 (97 votes cast)
LineWhatsAppTumblrFacebookTwitterRedditPinterestGoogle GmailGoogle+StumbleUponShare

Those Fine Young Gentlemen, Part Two: Cavity.jpg & Belphegor.txt

July 2, 2015 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.3/10 (92 votes cast)

This is part two of the Those Fine Young Gentleman series.


A further update on those fine young gentleman. This OS is, well, OK let me say it like this. If I wasn’t a hundred percent sure of my own network security I would say someone else was in control of it. I’ve only ever taken it online to do these posts and for the most part I’ve kept it unconnected from the web but it is the damnedest thing. It’s almost as if someone is giving it permission to run programs that I can’t find anywhere on the system. When I search processes running I’m met with a slew of odd tasks. Things like whitewhite.mid or alhazred.d64, and other files that shouldn’t be running on a Linux system and when I try to track them down or gain any more info on them they just aren’t there.

This hunt for phantom programs did however lead me to a whole bunch of new files. I found them inside the S.N.I.P.E.R programs queue, David must have been trying to delete them en mass but the program overwrote so much that just one file would take it hours. I managed to pull 14 out of the queue. A few were taxes and others were just single pages filled with dots and dashes, I spotted a few videos that probably came from that p0rnz folder. Two files caught my eye however.

The first was a picture slide show of a family of four in front of a white, ranch style house. This photo was simply called cavity. The family wasn’t anything special; just a thin husband with short, almost crew cut hair, a pretty wife with a big smile and two twin boys. The boys seemed off but that might have something to do with the fact that I find twins unsettling. In the photo they all wore matching red shirts and black pants, maybe Christmas but I didn’t see any snow.

The next photo was exactly the same but this time someone had circled the front window behind the family and written out beside it “PROOF”. There in the glass was what might have been the caught image of a hand in motion. Next there was the same family but this time at a water park, the wife wore a t-shirt that said “Hot momma” with a pair of big red lips and the father and sons wore matching palm tree swim trunks. Everyone looked happy but I noticed a bruise on the chest of one of the boys. The next photo was that same boy only blown up triple its size. Written out from the bruise it said “DON’T YOU SEE!!??” and looking at it much closer the bruise did have an odd shape. I swear the more I look at it the more it looks like an eye.

The next two photos were distorted, I could make out a chair in one and what might have been a camp fire in another. I figure it was a fire because whoever had been adding the text wrote “BURN” over it. It was the second to last photo that really got me. It was of a birthday party and the boy looked horrible. His face was bloody, his right eye looked as if it had been partially gouged out, his skin was gray and looked cracked in places but he was smiling wide over a spiderman cake with a big wax candle in the shape of a six. In fact everyone was smiling, happy, laughing as if they didn’t see the awful state the boy was in. I didn’t have to click the next photo to know what it would show me, I had seen it already. It was behind the boy, could easily have been his shadow if not for the clear as day teeth. They were long and sharp, like a dog’s and set wide for a big grin. I used to own a German Sheppard and when he would pull his lips back to growl that is how those teeth looked. I can’t stop thinking about that toothy, animal smile set into that shadowed face. No text in the last photo where it had been circled. Maybe who had been writing them was as speechless as me.
The other file was another chat dump this time between David and Gentleman Jeff
G.J: You know David this whole thing is very noble of you but you have heard the old saying about the cat right? If not, long story short it doesn’t end well.
D.O: I don’t understand why you won’t give me a straight answer
G.J: Straight? David I didn’t expect you to be the intolerant type. What if I wanted to give you a gay answer or a bi answer, would you condemn them because they don’t fit your preconceived notions of answer gender?
D.O:… I don’t even, see this is what I’m talking about.
G.J: Oh you are such a delight David. Such good fun we’ve had, such fun we are going to have. I tell you what… and I shouldn’t but well here: dandy.avi
D.O: a video? that is a first.
G.J: you are reallyyyyyy 000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
D.O what? 0.0

~Gentleman Albert (G.A) has entered the group~
~Gentleman Jeff (G.J) has been kicked from the group~

G.A: That just won’t do. What was he sending you anyway, oh I see. We will have to have words.
D.O What just happened, why did my screen go all wonky. Where did Jeff go?
G.A: I will speak to him. cavity.jpeg
D.O: Albert right? I don’t think we’ve talked before
G.A: cavity.jpeg it was her favorite.

~Gentleman Albert (G.A) has left the group~

I clicked the cavity.jpeg file linked in chat and it just opened the one I had already found or at least I thought it did. It looks like the pictures have changed however and my god if this is a Photoshop job it is the best I’ve ever seen.
The family are all corpses now, rotting flesh hanging off of their pearly white bones. Their eyes are gone, one of the mother’s breasts has completely rotted away. In it’s place there is only this hole that looks like it might be oozing a greenish bile. The father seems to be holding part of his own intestines and the boys…. They are each missing opposite arms and their faces look as if the skin has been peeled off to show the skull underneath. They still have their smiles though, big and happy and wide only now the teeth are sharp and glistening.
I… I honestly don’t know what is going on here. At first this was just some creepy stuff I found on an old computer but the more I read and watch and listen,I just don’t know. That file is the exact same one I opened before reading the chat and suddenly afterward it had completely changed. How is that even possible?


Things just keep getting stranger. The more I look into these fine young gentleman the less I find. None of the names show up in a Google search with any real tangible results, I took the chance and checked some of David’s browser history and none of them showed up on any of the sites that he visited. Although some of those sites themselves were pretty out there.

A lot were your typical finds, Facebook, Youtube, David had a thing for rally cars so a few of those enthusiast websites but then there were things like Wikipedia articles about serial killers listed by number of victims.
That article chain and his bookmarks are the only clues I have to the gentleman so far. He bookmarked just four things, an article on Charles Albright, Terry Blair, Jeffrey Dahmer and Albert Fish.

I don’t know how those killers correlate to the gentleman or even if they do but it is the only connection I have been able to find to them. Here and there I would find searches for demonology and witchcraft, he once searched for the connections between Paganism and Catholicism (which yielded some fascinating results btw.)

Someone had mentioned to me that the dots and dashes I’ve been finding in random text files could be Morse code. I’m still working on translating it but one phrase that keeps showing up looks like this:

“.. / .–. .-. .- -.– / ..-. — .-. / -.– — ..- .-. / … — ..- .-..”

Now near as I can tell that says something like: “I pray for your soul”. Which leads me to think that David might have been in a lot of danger. All of his correspondence seems to stop months ago and Brad told me that he never got the old man’s name but pointed me to the place where the yard-sale was set up. I’ve made plans to stop by this weekend and find out what I can.

I traded Brad computers, giving him my old HP in exchange for this Dell. I can’t just give it away, I feel that even if I cleared the drive someone would still find something and, if I’m being honest, part of me doesn’t want to give this up. This might be the most exciting thing that has happened to me, scary sure, unnerving definitely. Especially after what I saw in dandy.avi. I’m…I’m not ready to talk about that just yet. What it lead me to however was another protected folder, this one was called 1000000000000066600000000000001.

Now that can’t be binary and honestly I thought it would just end up being one of those random folders programs make for temp files but why was it protected? I tried to open it using the program my friend sent me but that was a bust, so I went out to lunch and came back to find that the folder was suddenly unprotected. I have no idea how, that program failed and the dell isn’t connected to the net but there it was ready to be opened. The only file inside was a text document called Belphegor. After reading it I don’t… I don’t know what to think.
(posted below is it in it’s entirety)

There once was a man. That is a fine way to start things off isn’t it? Once, past tense. I feel that’s pretty accurate since they are getting closer. Past tense is whats coming, no point in denying that. I was always big on denial, helped me make sense of things. It was always someone or something elves fault, I had no idea the concept of self sabotage. How could someone understand that the devil in the story was themselves all along? Can’t really make sense of that. Looking at everything now, here at the end, I can see all the broken connections. All my failures, all my mistakes and I can’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe I had set myself up for this my whole life. That I was meant to die here in this dirty bedroom in my fathers house. Surrounded by other old, broken, forgotten bits of family history.

I dropped out of college after one year, gaining a heap of good memories and ten thousand dollars of debt. I washed out of the army in basic training, just didn’t have the stuff they said. I then ghosted around my old haunts, doing odd jobs and odd women and just barely getting by. Until my uncle called me and told me that my dad had died, hunting accident.

They said he was found stuck up his tree stand in the woods. He was old and must have gotten hitched to something and couldn’t get off. I over heard one of the deputies at his funeral talking about the look he had, as if he had been staring at something from hell itself. If that was true then the undertaker had done a heck of a job however now that I think back on it the old man did sort of look pained as he laid there in his new pine bed. I hadn’t talked to him in twenty years, maybe I’ll see him again in a bit if there is an afterlife. My uncle told me that dad left me the farm and I had thought man, my luck had changed. Until I got to the place and saw what a mess had been made of it.

Those fields hadn’t seen a plow in years, part of the upstairs was just rotted away and dad must have lost it a little in the home defense department. Every window was nailed shut, the doors were locked and bolted and then locked again. Chains around the cellar door and the only usable upstairs room, the master bedroom, was locked up tighter than a vault. I nearly sliced my hands on the barbed wire along the stair railing. That wasn’t the oddest part however. Now as out there as all that was it was the smell that dis-concerned me the most.


It smelled like honey everywhere in that house. As if it was part of the decaying wood, mixed into the paint on the walls, somehow infused in the very air. I found the source of the smell that first night in the kitchen. Dozens of jars of honey were opened on the counters. They filled the table, pots and pans of it along the floor and on the stove were two great big cast iron pots filled with it. There wasn’t however a single fly or ant or any insect for that matter. There also wasn’t a scrap of food in the whole place save for one can of potted meat. I went out and picked up a pizza and started to go through dads things.

I felt a pang of regret when I found the pictures that had once been on every wall stuffed into a pillow case in his room. How had he ended up like this and I not have known? Twenty years was a long time sure but hadn’t someone seen him like this , wouldn’t they have said something to me? At the time I had thought he had just been slowly loosing it, I guess now I do know the truth. Why couldn’t it have been altimeter? That first night I heard them outside. At first I thought it was just raccoons or maybe deer but when they smashed a window downstairs I took one of dad’s old rifles and went to investigate. As I carefully navigated the stairs I heard muffled numbers. ONE, TWO, THREE…ONE,TWO,THREE. I flipped the lights on and found the window by the front door busted but nothing there. Same with the next room and the next. I came back to the window and noticed for the first time the lines on the floor.

Chalk lines in groups of three lead out from the door to the stairs. They continued up, one group on each step, all the way to the bedroom door. I looked from all the windows and it was the same, all leading back to the stairs and up to the bedroom. I sat at the top step, just like I did when I was a child and cried for my father. Our falling out hadn’t really been a very upsetting one for me but it must have been for him. To think he wouldn’t even have bothered to call me when things started to slip away from him. That no one would. I wondered if I really had burned that bridge as bad as it seemed or maybe he helped burn it too. I was so caught up in this thought, that maybe my dad had hated me more than I hated him, that the loud crash from the kitchen startled me more that it should have.

I nearly jumped out of my skin and did in fact end up tumbling down a few of the steps before I caught myself. Once there I found all of the honey pots on the floor over turned but not a drop of the sticky stuff on the floor. They were empty and judging by the slight sheen along the rims, licked clean. Confused I picked a few of them up and placed them on the table. I heard a scuttling behind me and then the lights went out. After I found the switch, more bottles toppled from where I had just been at the table. I flicked on the light and screamed. There leaning off the table was something out of my nightmares.

It was roughly the size of a small dog, like a corgi, but it looked like a man. Hairless and gray but with legs and arms and a thin chest. It’s hands were small but it’s claws were not. They were easily half it’s length, like steak knives attached to a baby doll. It felt so unnatural, as if I was looking behind the curtain of the world at one of the actors out of make up. I was looking at something that shouldn’t be, something from the dark places that the would had tried to stamp out. I stood there, frozen in place as it’s head began to raise up. It looked at me and I could feel it, actually feel it slither across my skin and as if against my will I met it’s gaze.

Empty pits blinked to focus, gave the impression of holes being filled and dug. It’s mouth was jagged and torn as if it had used one of those claws to carve it into it’s own head. I screamed and it lunged, digging one of those claws into my shoulder as it launched off of the table. I grabbed it and pushed back as hard as I could. Touching it felt like holding a fish fresh from the freezer. I manged to fling it back but my arm was ruined, it felt like pins and needles all down my left side. Looking at it turned my stomach, I’ve never been good with blood and there was a lot of it. I stumbled backward, frantic to find the way out.

From somewhere across the room “Come and Get Your Love” started to play, it must have hit the radio. I heard the rushed pattering of feet heading toward me and I ran as fast as I could back up the stairs. At the top of the stairs I stopped to breath. My arm burned and bolts of pain from the cuts kept stuttering my lungs. “ONE, TWO,THREE.” I could see it at the bottom step thanks to the upper hallway light. Those empty eyes looked hatefully up at me, I know that’s an odd thing to say since it didn’t seem to have an expression but that is what I felt from it’s dark gaze. It moved to the next step. “ONE, TWO, THREE”. Frantic I ran back to the bed room and bolted the door shut.

And that is where I am now, listening to that thing counting closer. I’m sitting at dad’s old desk, putting this down in the last few pages of his journal. I read his last entries, he talked about this thing a lot. Said he found a tree out in the woods filled with honeycomb but not a single bee. The wood looked blood red and he figured it would make a nice table. As he was cutting it dad felt something watching him. This thing attacked a few days latter. He called it the “Sweet Eater” because the only thing he had found that kept it away was honey and sweet things. He discovered the counting as it was chasing him through the house. Nothing he tried killed it, dashing my hopes in the rifle. His last line talks about how it manged to get a taste of his blood and the honey stopped working. All it seemed to want then was him. “ONE, TWO, THREE.” I hear it outside the door now. “ONE, TWO,THREE.” I’m sorry da…

\Translated from French papers found in the Nord-Pas-de-Calais region. Translator Sarah Bergman. Year: Not before 1974, exact date unknown\

(After that this repeats over and over for pages and pages: “… …. . .—-. … / –. — -. .” I think it says “She’s Gone”)

Credit To – R.A Brewster

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.3/10 (92 votes cast)
LineWhatsAppTumblrFacebookTwitterRedditPinterestGoogle GmailGoogle+StumbleUponShare

Those Fine Young Gentlemen, Part One: Cottoneye.rtf

July 1, 2015 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.3/10 (116 votes cast)

This is part one of the Those Fine Young Gentleman series.


Before I get started here let me say that I have to post this. That I need to share what I’ve found. It’s the same feeling you get when you drive by a car crash and have to look in horror at the mangled bodies of metal and flesh. I have to show you, you have to see, you need to see. I’ve only begun to sort through all the files but I’ll put them up…I have to. I like to fix computers in my free time, kinda like adult Legos. I’ve built quite a few of them for myself and friends and whenever something goes wrong I am the first person they call. Now most of the time it’s just user error or a bad antivirus letting some worm or other nefarious program munch on root files. Nothing I couldn’t handle and nothing really strange. That is until Brad brought me this laptop he bought at a flea market. It was some old world Dell, the monolith sized ones and just looking at it made me feel like an archaeologist finding some ancient relic.

He told me that he hadn’t had a chance to play around with it yet but the old guy had sold it to him for 15 bucks so he wasn’t expecting a miracle. He just wanted me to clean it out, do what I could to speed it up and load up some programs his daughter could use for school. If it was a wash oh well but he had complete faith in me. Now I told him I was a computer god but some things are beyond my powers, I promised to do what I could. As soon as I turned it on I knew I was in for hell. Just the load time to boot was snail slow. Once there I made an odd discovery, the computer wasn’t running Windows. It was using some home-brewed Linux OS called AsmoDos, I figured that this would actually save me some time, just wipe the drive and do a fresh install from one of the Windows 7 jump drives I had laying around. But I was pretty curious.

Making your own flavor of Linux was something I had tried to play around with but I was garbage at coding and working with kernels and all those sudo edits made my head hurt. Here this guy made his own, seemingly, working OS and it was running on this artifact from another time. I was impressed and wanted to see how the whole thing ran.There wasn’t a password on the home screen just a black and red tinted background with an enter icon. That was pretty odd but I clicked it and was immediately disappointed.

There wasn’t anything fancy about the UI at all, looked like a carbon copy of Ubuntu from way back in the day. Browsing around I found the normal saved pages, obligatory funny photos, a few tax papers (I resisted the urge to swipe the SSN…those days are over). Found out the guy who owned this heap of junk before was named David Osa. David wasn’t a very adventures guy, even his porn was pretty generic stuff, and also I found it in a folder labeled P0rnz. I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Then I ran into some odd stuff.

The first thing that I found was a program called S.N.I.P.E.R. It turned out to be a file over-writer, like a super trash can. However where a computer would normally write over a deleted file once, this program wrote over it 47 times. That’s more than the CIA. That is what you run when you want something GONE. Why on earth would he have something as heavy duty as that? I went back over the image files again, won’t lie I figured he must have some CP on here to warrant such a program but there was nothing, zip, nada. I did find the next unsettling thing however and boy did it lead to some unnerving shit.

It was a password protected folder called FYG, hidden inside a folder for Celtic soundscapes. Now bear in mind this is the first password protected anything I had come across. P0rnz, tax papers, hell the system itself, wide open but not this one folder. What was he hiding? I tried to crack it the normal way, guessing. Last name didn’t work, password didn’t work, neither did password spelled backward, David was at least smarter than that. I looked through some of my own programs but none of them could help me crack something on a Linux OS, they just weren’t set up for it.

On a hunch I got in touch with a buddy of mine who had been an avid Linux fan since I first met him. It didn’t take long to convince him that I was thinking about making the switch and was in need of his help with a pesky password problem. He sent me something he said should help and stressed to me that I was making the right choice, that windows was doomed, open source was the best yadda yadda yadda. Whatever he sent me opened up the terminal and apparently had super cow powers. I still don’t understand but it worked and I was able to open the folder. It held dozens of text files, chat logs, AVIs but nothing seemed that out there. Until I started reading.

I can’t tell you how odd and disturbing these things are. It seems David was talking with a group of people he called “Those Fine Young Gentlemen”, he kept a sort of journal on his thoughts about them. From those and what I’ve read so far it seems there are four of them, a Gentleman Charles, Gentleman Terry, Gentleman Jeff and Gentleman Albert. The first bit I came across started in a chat dump between David and Gentleman Terry.

D.O: Come on, you really expect me to believe that just because of some local news link.
G.T: U did waNt proof diDn’T you?
D.O: I wouldn’t call that proof G.T: what would u call it? u mitE Really want to OPEN this then(cottoneye.rtf) EnJoY -.-

~Gentleman Jeff (G.J) has joined the group~

G.J: Come now ol’ boys don’t you think that’s a little much, he’s been fun so far. Think he is really ready to leave the kiddie table?
G.T: wonT matter, He’s going to opEn it can’t help himsElf.
D.O: What the hell is this anyway?
G.T: What you wAnted, that pesky truth Remember?
D.O: I don’t get why you guys keep saying that’s what I wanted, I just want to know about Sarah. I know she was talking to you damn it, WHERE IS SHE!?
G.T: Truth comes in guarded Halves. Keep reading.
G.J: Don’t be such a bad show David, we’ve only been trying to help.

~David Osa (D.O) has left the group~

I tracked down the cottoneye.rtf file. Draw what you will from it but this whole thing just keeps getting more and more unsettling. (There is one photo embedded in the document, it’s of a beautiful sunset, broken up by dark jagged pines.)
———–Transcript of papers found in patient 0043’s room, after third escape attempt. ———–FWD to Doc. West along with suggestion to increase tridextropane by at least half, if not doubling the dose all together. ——————————————–
My name is Mark Chapman and I am not crazy. I know that’s not something a sane person would say but what sane person would believe me? I’ve told this, god, a thousand times and no one believes. My parents, their parents, my girlfriend, my own fucking brother! They won’t even come to visit me anymore. They don’t believe but I do. I believe in the man in the woods and the awful things he did to them.
Cops always wanted me to start at the beginning but they don’t have a god damn clue when that was. The camping trip? Nope! The flat tires before we even sat out? Try again! No this whole thing went back so much further. I had seen him before….we all had.

(There are pages and pages after this that just say “SPRINGVALE” in erratic, almost frantic lines.)

The trip was a bad idea, should have known since it was Jason who suggested it. Nothing went right; the car had problems from the get go and Alex, who had been in charge of the snacks and food and gear just fucking forgot to bring half that shit. In the end we sat out on some janky used tires and one tent to share for three days. The food was an easy fix it turned out and as we headed deeper into the woods toward the campground we were all in high spirits.

Just three old friends getting away for a while, like it used to be. God I miss them. After Jason had regaled us with another tale of how he had single handled helped this cop subdue a 450 pound meth addict, Alex started poking holes in his story. Jason hadn’t subdued anything more violent than a early bird buffet in his whole life but his stories were something else and watching him jump through hoops to keep up the act while Alex tossed question after question at him reminded me of how much things hadn’t changed. It was then, me lost in nostalgia with my head out the window, that I saw him.

It was just a flash, so quick i could almost believe that he was just another tree trunk but a glance into those eyes made me sure it wasn’t. They were so blue. Like a sailor’s dream of crisp Caribbean seas, twin holes of perfect summer Sunday sky set deep into an impossibly smooth face. That face was new born maggot white and looked like it was stretched thin, barely holding something back from busting out like puss from a boil.

Even though I didn’t see it then I knew he would be wearing a ratty old t-shirt that read “Mondays” with a sad cloud on it and no pants. Just long, pencil thin legs stabbing down from the end of the shirt as if it were some sort of dress. It took me a while to realize that the car had stopped and that I’d been screaming the whole time. Jason just looked at me while Alex kept shaking me and asking me if I was alright. Jason’s brown eyes asked one thing? “Mr. Monday?” my sobs must have answered him because he started to break down too. Alex stopped shaking me and curled up in the back seat, his eyes far away.

(At this point the review committee felt it necessary to include an excerpt from patient 0043’s previous therapy sessions with Dr. Amid)

Chapman continues to reference a “Mr. Monday” and while normally leery of discussing this topic, today he was very forthcoming. It would seem this whole construct began far back in his past, sometime in grade school. He talked about how he and the two victims, Alex and Jason, first encountered it one night. The three of them were exploring some abandoned apartment complex behind their school, Springvale if memory serves me right. Inside one of the upstairs rooms the three boys uncovered a dead man.

Chapman claims that the body had been long dead and I suspect that the whole traumatic event caused a lasting, shared delusion among the three. Instead of fleeing the building the three had taken up the idea that they would solve the man’s murder and began looking through the rooms for clues. It is at this point that Chapman varies his story many times. At one point he said they found a room full of candles and skinned cats, later he says that all the rooms were empty but covered in some bluish mold that would “breath”, being alone in the building turned into finding fleeting shadows ducking down halls. As he recounted running down seven flights of stairs only to open the door at the bottom and end up back at the floor they had left on, his mood became violently panicked. Chapman paced, ran his fingers through his hair, and openly sobs as he continued recounting the events in the abandoned apartments.

At some point the corpse started to follow them down the halls. Always just a little behind but getting closer with every turn they made. It wore a shirt that said I hate Mondays which I feel is where they derived the nickname. Finally Chapman, with some aura of triumph, told me how they had ended the nightmare by jumping from the third story window. He showed me the pins in his leg he had gotten after the fall. It was at this time that I managed to steer him to the events of that night in the woods.

His eyes grew far off but for the first time in our sessions he started where “Mr. Monday” found them in their car. Chapman told me how they had been forced to stay the night in their car because the engine wouldn’t turn over. The night didn’t feel as if it would be that cold and Jason had managed to improve their spirits by telling them a stories about his colorful life (I have had to listen to Chapman regale me of his friends exploits enough to know that these stories must have been something special in their friendship.) However as the moon continued to rise he claimed they all grew very aware of something outside the car. Something just outside their area of sight.

It was at 3am that the radio came on all by itself and blasted the music loud enough to wake them, he said the song was some dance mix of “Cotton eye Joe”. Startled Jason tried the engine again and flipped on the headlights. Only to find Mr. Monday there in front of the car. Chapman claimed that the creature just pushed through the window like it was made of water; that he only survived because he ran but when pressed as to why the others didn’t run, why only he saw this Mr. Monday, he became defensive as always. I pressed him with the evidence of his crime, hoping that maybe with his openness today we could have some breakthrough. It was, well less than desired. 0043 will remain in restraints until committee review.

(After this there are only what seem to be crime scene photos. They show a headless body slumped over the steering wheel of a car, another shows a torso without an arm or both legs and the last one shows a young man being pulled from the back seat of a car by police. His eyes are wild, his face covered in blood and he is wearing a shirt with a sad cloud that says “I hate Mondays”)

Credit To – R.A Brewster

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.3/10 (116 votes cast)
LineWhatsAppTumblrFacebookTwitterRedditPinterestGoogle GmailGoogle+StumbleUponShare