Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction

Creepypasta

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Rating: 6.5/10 (154 votes cast)

Not a word spoken, I was boiling the clean water; two spoons of sugar into one glass; a sharp mechanic whistle; a soft thud and I was slightly uncomfortable on the brown couch, face to face with hot tempered feelings.
Stare became focused; I said I’d love him.
“When?” he asked.
Anytime. Anytime. Anytime.
“And where?” he asked.
Anywhere. Anywhere. Anywhere.
“And here? Now?” he challenged me.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
He raised his eyebrows and stared away to the ceiling.
Hot water flowing with gravity down to the dark cup, changing, shifting, mirroring, its color was now also dark. The odor of Chinese teabags; the slightest smell of white powder, ex-solid; a soft thud and I was slightly uncomfortable on the brown couch, face to face with steaming emotions.
He had been drinking. Eyes to the ceiling, he asked if I did everything because I loved him.
No, sir. You are like my great god, I said.
He smiled and said I was his best friend, his friendly love, his champ, his king. The past tense in these words did not slip away from my ears. It chewed my ear drums and gave me a headache. It chewed my brain, my nerves, my veins; it flooded my blood and chewed my heart.
Was, my voice echoed stronger than I meant.
You are my best friend, my friendly love, my champ, my king. His smile was wider.
But you are no longer my shoulders, no longer my encouragement.
He had been drinking.
I was pouring the powder into the other glass; the smell of Chinese teabags still there; I mixed, I smiled, and I was little afraid; a soft thud and I was completely uncomfortable on the brown couch, face to face with my burning desires.
Yes sir, I am mad, I whispered. Soft foot-taps on the carpet, two empty cups still blooming hot air, face close to face.
His light brown eyes were closed, but other parts of his face still remained the same. It was strange.
Yes sir, I am definitely mad, I whispered again. This was pointless, since his eyes were closed and he was in deep sleep, Valley of the Dogs style. My lips breath-distant from his ear, I said yes sir, I admire and love, I am different. I am angry, I am desperate, I am alone. I am real, you are real, but we are not.
A tear was dripping down his cheek. My tear. It kept dripping swiftly, as if running away. It wet his bristles, and he was breathing calmly. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. His eyes opened narrowly.
“Is this real?” he stuttered.
No sir, no love, this is not real. This is a dream. Your nightmare is my fantasy; my fantasy is your nightmare.
“Am I crying?” he hardened. My lips breath-distant, kiss-distant from his lips, I said, I wish.
The shiny glimpse of a silver kitchen knife flashed for a moment in the well lit room. My hands were shaking as I slowly removed them from the knife; its dark handle stood straight, and its silver edge was halfway deep inside the man’s insides.
I was not sorry.
Strong vibrations swiftly shook each and every single of my nerves, as I was kissing him. I did so until the cups on the table spread their last remains of hot air up towards the sky.
I stood up slowly and looked at his eyes. They were open wide, and the surprise they held so lively a moment ago slowly faded away, leaving only emptiness, as if they were the eyes of a doll. I stood up and forced myself not to look back as I walked towards the door.
Reaching the exit, my body felt weak, but the monster inside me has finally stopped its roars for vengeance and found some quiet.
I thought I heard something behind me; a fragmented voice of a dying man asking me why. I looked up at the stars and whispered, repeating the words he himself said to me, after what he had done.
Love hurts.

Credit To: Veritas_Animus
Author’s Note: You will probably notice a lack of quotation marks across the story. Please notice these lacks are on purpose, and should help you develop your own understanding of the story. I would love to hear your thoughts about this type of writing, which is inspired from the great Chuck Palahniuk, the author of “Fight Club” (as some of you may notice a clear reference by the end of the story).

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Rate This Pasta
Rating: 6.5/10 (154 votes cast)
Club Love, 6.5 out of 10 based on 154 ratings
  • Tits

    I liked it. It was a really nice read.

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    Rating: +3 (from 9 votes)
    • Veritas_Animus

      So does your nickname, sir.

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      Rating: +9 (from 9 votes)
  • http://nitzanhavoc.deviantart.com/ NitzanHavoc

    Verbal descriptions at their best. Creates a vivid picture in the readers’ minds, and makes them feel for themselves the emotions going through the two characters. I personally found myself feeling affection, fear, pain and rage in accordance with what the narrator and the 2nd character were feeling.
    Excellent work!

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    Rating: +5 (from 13 votes)
  • http://www.facebook.com/vertiason Veritas_Animus

    Hey guys!

    It’s my first pasta here, I hope you like it.
    I’d really love it if you commented your opinion.

    Thanks!

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    Rating: +5 (from 7 votes)
    • Anonymous

      That was actually some fantastic writing. Absolutely loved it. More! More! C:

      The descriptions were so vivid… Reminded me almost of JRR Tolkien in the aspect of how you could imagine the exact situation. It’s easy to get lost if you don’t absolutely devote yourself to the story… But with a story so fantastic, it’s easy to devote yourself to. 10/10

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      Rating: +3 (from 11 votes)
    • Anon

      It’s bad enough that the pasta was bland and pitiful, you had to attribute it to a great writer like Chuck Palahniuk — and you write nothing like him.

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      Rating: -8 (from 18 votes)
      • Victoria

        I agree, Anon. Utter crap. I could forgive the writer as it was their first pasta, but for them to bring Palahniuk into it… that just made it that much worse.

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        Rating: -9 (from 19 votes)
    • Anonymous

      That was the best pasta I have read so far. Intriguing and full of emotion. I was engulfed in the story and where it was going. I like how we never know what he did, leaving it to our imagination. Good work :)

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      Rating: 0 (from 4 votes)
  • Squee!

    I was so happy to see you semi-cited Chuck P. because I most definitely picked up on it! Good read :)

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    Rating: +5 (from 13 votes)
    • http://www.facebook.com/vertiason Veritas_Animus

      Chuck P. is a literate brilliancy.

      Did you get the reference to F.C.?

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      Rating: +4 (from 10 votes)
      • Anonymous

        This was lightyears away from having any sort of resemblance to Palahniuk’s work. Just…no.

        Also, if you find it necessary to include an ‘Author’s note’ to explain what you were unable to depict in the story, then you need to either try again or give up for good.

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        Rating: -8 (from 28 votes)
        • Vikkiverka

          "This was lightyears away from having any sort of resemblance to Palahniuk’s work. Just…no."

          THIS. A THOUSAND TIMES THIS.

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          Rating: -8 (from 18 votes)
  • LollipopGestapo

    I enjoy the almost,”spoken word,” style of this. It’s the only thing that makes the vagueness work. But job well done. 10.

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    Rating: +8 (from 14 votes)
  • jenfa

    I loved the repetition in this. Made the character seem truly mad.

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    Rating: +7 (from 13 votes)
  • Oh for god’s sake

    Quite simply put, you are not Chuck Palahniuk.

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    Rating: -1 (from 21 votes)
    • Veritas_Animus

      You don’t say?
      Perhaps you should learn what “inspired by” means again.

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      Rating: +13 (from 19 votes)
      • Anon

        It means you have delusions of grandeur about your writing ability? Palahniuk would laugh (or cringe) if he ever read this piece of crap.

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        Rating: -3 (from 19 votes)
  • Anonymous

    I thought this was extremely good, especially for a first pasta! 10/10:)

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    Rating: +10 (from 14 votes)
  • Anonymous

    Terrible. Blatant rip-off, and poorly done to boot.

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    Rating: -12 (from 16 votes)
  • Yikes.

    Wow. That was astoundingly awful. Obvious rip-off and not even well done. And all these morons spray their shorts at the mention of a good writer. Ripping off a good writer makes you an awful writer. Examine your life.

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    Rating: -9 (from 19 votes)
    • Vikkiverka

      Agreed. I can’t get the taste of this awful pasta out of my mouth.

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      Rating: -7 (from 15 votes)
  • RainbowGummy

    Necrophilia? O.o

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    Rating: +11 (from 11 votes)
  • Ami

    Oh, this is brilliant. It piqued my interest on the first read, and on a second read through it took my breath away.
    Wonderfully vague and suggestive, without being overly so.
    I really enjoy your writing style, Madam/Sir.
    Absolutely beautiful and unsettling.

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    Rating: +4 (from 8 votes)
  • Anonymous

    In Fight Club, the lack of quotation marks on Tyler’s part is because he was only speaking in the narrator’s head, whereas in this story there are two distinct characters speaking aloud.

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)

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