Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction

Creepypasta

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I just got my computer privileges back. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been without it, but it’s amazing to have my laptop back. You might think I’m some young fuck who’s gonna tell you how much my life sucks because mommy took the computer away cause I did something bad or some bull shit. That’s not the case. I don’t live with my parents anymore. We’re not estranged, I’ve just grown up. I wonder how long it’s been since I talked to them last. How long has it been since I talked to anyone? I suppose I should start at the beginning. The beginning of this living fucking nightmare.

As I’ve hinted at, my sense of time is shot to shit. Now that I have my computer I can tell you the date , but that doesn’t matter. It still doesn’t tell me how long it’s been. If I had to take a guess it’s been at least three months. Three months as some sensory deprived zombie huddled in the shadow with a notebook and a pen. However long ago it was I was sitting in my apartment, insomnia plaguing me yet another night. I was more then use to it. It took me a few hours to assemble all the details of the night but I think I’ve got all that’s needed to tell you my story.

I’ve always been a fan of horror. Short stories, video games, movies, books, you name it. Nothing would attract me to something faster then a good creep factor. Even at a young age I’d bemoan my great misfortune to never have a paranormal encounter. A lack of any sort of event to prove to me first hand that the paranormal even exists. Had I any clue, and idea, any premonition I would have fuckin’ dropped the interest right there and then. Maybe get into ponies or some other frilly, girly, safe interest. But I didn’t, so here I am. Yes, this is important to the story.

So it was another insomnia plagued night, looking for something to make myself paranoid, send that cold chill down my spine, maybe even force a suppressed cry of surprise from me. It was a fairly successful adventure. Short stories on the internet where my source for the evening. It started out with me listening to narrated stories on YouTube while playing on my 360. Yes, by creepy short stories I do mean creepy pastas, I just can’t bring myself to seriously include it in this account. Every time I hear it referenced or mentioned in one of those short stories it just strikes me as jarring, taking me from the moment. It’s the whole fourth wall concept, but that’s just me. Anyways. I got frustrated at the game I was playing and just put the controller down. Besides, I had already listened to all the creepy stories on YouTube. I decided to focus singularly on finding something creepy on the internet.

I tried ‘Ghosts Captured on Camera’ and a dozen other variations, searching for interesting YouTube videos. Nothing new. I watched a few of my favorite that still gave me slight shivers. With nothing else easily found on YouTube I turned to the greater internet. I ended up on a number of less well known forums. They had some decent stories on them, made me check behind me a time or two. The last one I can remember reading is the one I regret the most. It was short, it wasn’t even a story. It was just a short description of an unnamed creature. I thought it was sorta cool, would have liked to see some art of them.
It was then that I heard the scratching. I barked at my cat to knock it off, but when I looked over my shoulder, the cat was sleeping on the bed. So it wasn’t her. Great, I had mice in the apartment again. I fucking hate mice. I’ll just try to ignore it and hope they invade one of the neighbors or the cat gets them if they dare to stick their heads out of their hiding holes. I went about my business. The scratching continued, and was it getting louder? Come to think of it I had never heard mice make such noises. Rats? I hate Rats more. If they where in the building me and the landlord where going to have a talk. And still, that fucking scratching. I got frustrated. I wanted, no needed to know what was making that noise. I checked around the kitchen. In the cabinets, under the sink, in the oven, even around the fridge. Nothing. It was only as I gave up that I saw it sitting on my counter. A small black creature, no larger then a kitten.

I’m not going to tell you anything more about the creature. I’m not sure even sure what to call it. I can’t tell you what attracted them to me, but I have my suspicions, and I’m doing all I can to put you in as little danger as possible. One suspicion comes from the fact that these creatures are eerily similar to the ones I read about, as mentioned above. It’s possible that it’s coincidence, or it could be knowing how they appear attracts them. Hell, maybe they put up the description and just waited for me to find it and read it. They seem to have a taste for the dramatic.

It’s here that my memory goes. I have snippets. Just flashes of images, ideas, smells, vague gut feelings, odd sensations. It’s all blurred, not sure if some of my ‘memories’ aren’t just from my head or badly assembled pieces from other memories. So from here I’ll do my best, but I won’t be able to tell you everything. I myself don’t know everything.

Somehow, I ended up writing fiction or these black creatures. From what I remember they can communicate, not verbally, but they communicate. Mostly they use motions, gestures, and growls. Mind you I’ve only ever seen then communicate with me, never each other. They interact with each other, but it’s different. Anyways, somehow they got me to write fiction for them. They remind me of people, or at least some people. They like short horror stories. So most of my memories are writing short horror stories into a notebook. When I’d finish a story I’d tear it out and give it to them. They’d cry and cheer as the pages where carried off, fought over, and eventually taken somewhere else. I’ve never seen any of those pages again.

They didn’t like the last story. This is where my memory gets a little more concrete. I was starting to regain control of my consciousness. Up to this point I was just some half-minded barely conscious zombie churning out work. I guess being more cognizant my work was different. I forced a lot of it, cutting out some ideas and parts just to get the creatures who had obviously been kept waiting too long their new story. I gave it to them, unsure of this one. They didn’t like it, they screamed and hissed, gesturing violently at me as they ripped the pages up. I tried to defend my case, telling them I was tired, I lacked inspiration, I was hungry, I needed time and a break. I guess something got to them, they allowed me my computer back for ‘inspiration’ and fewer of them are around watching me.

I’m not sure why they gave me some privileges back. Do they know I’m becoming more aware again? Are they setting me up for another nightmarish vapor trip? I don’t know. All I know is they want more stories. I’m not sure what will happen if I displease them again, I can only guess and imagine. It’s not uplifting. So for now, I’ll do what I can. I’ll write, try to talk them into giving me more back. Maybe next time I can get my phone back.

One of them just scampered over to my desk and started screaming at me. A high pitched crackling noise. It used a claw to cut my check, pointed at the screen, made more noises, and then scampered back to the shelf where it had been sitting. I guess it somehow figured out that I’m not writing a story for it. I’ll have to finish here. I’ll try to get more out to you when I can.

Credit To: The Captive

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Rating: 7.2/10 (98 votes cast)
Forced Storytime (Intro), 7.2 out of 10 based on 98 ratings
  • hydrangea

    Editors and managers.

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    Rating: +5 (from 7 votes)
  • Skittlepants

    Wow! I can’t wait to read more.

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • Rachel

    very nice I like the idea that they’re still their and giving you privileges.

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • Lucas

    I like it. Write more; that’s an order Captive.

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    Rating: +5 (from 5 votes)
  • Al

    Very cool,need more.

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • This guy

    BUT WHO WAS LAPTOP?

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    Rating: -6 (from 8 votes)
    • Another fuy

      no just stop

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  • cosmic

    It was great, please, rest, eat, shower and write more, thanks. I am from the caribbean, the creatures u describe remind me of something.

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  • fluke42

    I wish you would have described the creatures more. Maybe that’s coming in the next installment. It always kind of seems like a cop out when the writer refuses to describe the monster.

    The rest of the story was very interesting though.

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  • scorpian

    i woudnt mind them living with ill just four things one 1 hour laptop a day a food break every 5 stories 3my ps3 for an hour every three stories an 4 for them to talk english

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  • Frookedy frakker

    Nice story. I like how they don’t communicate with you like telepathically or some shit like that. Please write more, or they’ll scratch your balls off.

    By "them" I mean us readers.

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  • ẠbracadaveЯ

    One thing (alright, two actually, but one more so than the other) kept bugging me throughout this. The main thing being that you might want to try and remember the differences between “were”/”where” and “then”/”than”. This might seem insignificant, but misuse of words can often really butcher the meaning of a sentence (or worse) as well as just being downright annoying and distracting for the reader. And neither of these things are the kind of results you want from your work as a writer.

    /Were/ is used much like “was”, only for others or plurals and such – like “you were scared”, “they were scared”, “we were scared”, etc (as compared to “I was scared”, “he was scared” and so on).
    /Where/, on the other hand, is about the location of something, such as “where are my keys?” or “where are we going?” or “I could have sworn this is where I left my car…”. One easy way to remember if you’re having trouble with this one is to compare it to the word “there”, since it is only one letter different and they relate to the same concept of location: “/Where/ is it? Oh, /there/ it is.”

    /Then/ is related to timing – such as “I took her to dinner then a movie” or “what happened then?”, whereas /than/ is for comparison: “I would rather eat steak than broccoli”, “eight is more than six”, or to use one of your own sentences, “I was more than use(d) to it” (yeah you should have had a d on the end of “use” as well, sorry… “use” without the d means “to use” or “a use” – such as “I will use this fork to stab you in the eye” or “let’s put Justin Bieber to good use and just recycle his body as compost”).

    These are minor spelling issues, sure, but they did detract from the story since every time I ran into one I was pulled out of the storyline and had to use the context of the sentence around the word to decide which one you meant. Not to mention becoming increasingly irritated each time that happened. Maybe that’s just me, maybe I’m overreacting, but I see this sort of thing all too often lately and it just really bothers me to think that it might actually be indicative of the effort and/or education people are complacently accepting as “good enough” these days. It’s like a collective cultural shrug of indifference.

    One other thing – again, minor, but still a distraction from the story itself – you start out with a very casual, somewhat belligerent tone. Your language is rough, coarse, and littered with expletives. This in itself is not necessarily a bad thing, as long as it is employed in a natural manner to build up the character of the narrator, not forced and uncomfortable or inexplicably thrown in where it doesn’t belong (suggesting that the author is not actually prone to speaking like this, and is trying to use such wording purely for shock value or a “hard” image). The problem was not that you used that sort of language – I’m certainly in no position to complain about swearing even if I did want to – but rather that you didn’t keep up the same tone throughout. It very quickly died down to a more passive, ordinary, formal or even bland style. The narrator seemed to change, lose or depart from the personality displayed in the first paragraph, and the cursing/anger was dropped as they continued on to merely recite events in a detached and unemotional manner, rather than speaking with the same bitterness and resentment as the first paragraph might have led us to expect (an understandable reaction to the situation, in this narrator’s case, considering the theme of captivity and slavery). If you are writing in the first person and aiming for a certain tone or atmosphere for a story, a personality behind the narrative – a sort of “speaking voice” for the character telling the tale – as if it truly was being told by the protagonist, then you should try to keep it consistent. As it is, it feels like the character faded out after that initial introduction and you, the author, stepped in.

    Other than these minor issues, the writing skills shown weren’t… all /that/ bad. Though personally I found the story itself was somewhat (okay, maybe /seriously/) lacking in creepiness, as a simple tale it’s not completely horrible… Not like some, anyway. Didn’t make me fly into a rage and want to impale the author on a rough-cut stake, at least. But then, it really wasn’t all that great, either. Especially for attempted horror. Imminently forgettable, to be honest.

    I can’t help but wonder why the narrator ended up in this situation – why she (I’m assuming female due to the reference to “girly” pursuits partway through) didn’t just swat the little black dudes– omg that sounds wrong, lol –away so she could at least leave the house or something. Or even intimidate them with superior strength and size and demand her stuff back (or maybe not let them take it to begin with?) I dunno… They just didn’t seem particularly threatening, it seemed more like the main character just gave in after hearing some scratching and seeing one of them, and didn’t even put up any resistance to any of this even when she got cut off from the world and when one of them scratched her face. It’s like she just took it. Hell, if my cat scratches me I react more than that, and wouldn’t give him the gooshyfood he’d most likely be demanding. Let alone my laptop. And when he tries to steal my things, I either stop him or get them back and he’s the one who gets locked in his box for a while. And he’s a good deal bigger than a kitten, unlike the little black pixies you’ve got here, plus he used to be a feral street cat so he’s certainly not shy with the claws. When the supposedly creepy things in your story are less scary than my dimwitted three-legged cat (and yet still have the main character terrified to the point where they allow said creepy things to hold them hostage and run/ruin their life)… then yeah, something’s not quite right. Though whether that is a problem with the story or the main character is a little less clear. Maybe she’s just incredibly weak and cowardly? Extremely low self esteem leading to a lack of motivation toward defending her own rights? Her beliefs prohibit her from resisting the unreasonable demands of goblins? …Eh, I’m inclined to believe this is author fail more so than a deliberate character flaw for dramatic or plot-developing purposes, since nothing like that is mentioned.

    Anyway. Tl;dr: …Meh.
    Bland pasta is fairly fucking bland. And pasta’s main ingredient is a pussy – not the good kind or the fluffy kind, either. (Also, you should have paid attention in those early English classes.)
    Seems like you could have done better, but you didn’t. :/

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  • http://www.karlarei2003.deviantart.com KarlaRei

    I also hate when people break the 4th wall. I almost stopped reading it when I saw that–even in an ironic sense.

    Agree with ẠbracadaveЯ on some of the grammar, but it’s a good concept. I would have liked more description on the monster-things.

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  • http://deliriletterari.blogspot.com CMT

    A few of those creatures could be sold to writers who just can’t sit and write their stories without getting somehow distracted (me being one of those). I am sure they would pay good money for that kind of help, even though I’m not too sure how a little black something could force me to do anything.

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  • xleucotomex

    The only thing that saves this for me is the fact that it is an intro piece. I am hoping in future installments that there will be more detail. It seemed rather vague, but, again since you specified it is an intro piece this can easily be fixed. Keep it coming! The concept is excellent.

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