Last Will
This is my last will…I’m recording this now. I don’t have much time left. Well…not so much of a will, really. Everyone I know is dead, missing of seconds away from death.
I don’t know how it went so wrong. It was supposed to be something that would grant me eternal wealth, riches and longevity. Something that I heard was supposed to be how Caesar rose to power. Me being the idealistic man that I am, I decided to try it. The information was scattered far and wide. On top of Mount Everest, inside the 5001st paving stone on the Great Wall – everywhere imaginable. Everything fit together precisely and beautifully. This is how it works.
Go into the “slums” of your city and wait for midnight to strike. You must bring along three items – a coin that was made on the year of your birth, an object that holds music – like a CD, a tape or an MP3 player and the left eye from a two-week-old puppy. Stand on any street and wait exactly five minutes. If you did it correctly, there will be the sound of a single footfall behind you. You must then place the items on the ground, say your name aloud and then walk straight ahead for five minutes. Not sure what you’d do if there’s a wall or a bend in front of you. Follow the curve of the road or go around the obstacle maybe? Anyway, there’s no time to muse over the small details.
If you’ve followed those steps to the exact letter, you’ll get great power and life and all that in a couple of days. After that, you’re set for the rest of your life. If you didn’t…well, that’s where I am now.
Wait. Did you hear that? A sort of…squishing sound? Like wet…I don’t know. The mic on here probably isn’t powerful enough to pick up those sounds. After I didn’t get my wealth and power, I did some research on this particular ritual. It’s not some crappy internet meme like Candlejack or the strange Creepy Pastas on old rituals. It’s powerful stuff – old black magic. Old…as in really old. If what I’ve read is correct, this stuff was considered old when Rome was the only world superpower. Some of the reports have crude drawings of the thing that appears behind you. HP Lovecraft has nothing on those images. I’ve also read reports on what happens to those like me…the ones who fuck up.
Man, those are the worst Nightmare Fuel. Reports of people being found torn in half, their internal organs sucked out their eye sockets…and the reports of the people who are found alive. Their seemingly insane babblings and yells of unspeakable things. Of course, they speak them…rendering the whole “unspeakable” aspect a moot point. I don’t want all those to happen to me. That’s why I bought an old style revolver with me. It’s loaded with silver bullets coated with salt. The way I make it, if five bullets don’t kill whatever it is – the last one will go into my brain.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I guess I didn’t follow everything to the letter cause I got no power. After the research left me a quivering heap in my apartment, I began to slowly accept my fate. All of my affairs are in order. All my family…shit man, strangely…all of them died a few days ago. I mean, I was on the phone with my father, just talking about life and where I was going – when he screams and gurgles. It sounded wet. Really wet. I kept listening – trying to hear the killer…five minutes later I got nothing. When I went over to his place to see for myself…police were all over the place. Questioned me for a bit and then got me to id the body. Or at least…what was left of it. Christ; my old man didn’t deserve to die that way. All this death for a stupid wish. All my friends? Dead, or dying. I just came from the hospital. Pulled the plug on my ex. Literally. She was pretty torn up – again, literally.
I’m preparing myself now. I’m going to place this recorder inside this dumpster and leave the lid propped up. Hopefully whatever it is will make some sort of noise. Anyway, I won’t say my name here. You’d probably Google it to the high heavens anyway. OK, goodbye to everyone who is listening.
Save yourself.
Full recording of a tape found in an empty street. The only sign of the individual (John Doe) was a rather large puddle of blood near the far wall. Further investigation found said revolver – unfired. The last five minutes of the tape are transcribed below.
JD: All right you son of a bitch, I’m here. I did everything and you didn’t deliver! What the fuck is wrong with you? What the hell are you anyway?
(Silence)
JD: What? That doesn’t make a lick of sense! You can’t be serious! Step out of the shadows! I wanna see who I’m dealing with.
(A single footfall is heard)
JD: Oh Christ.
(Silence, then a scream that trails off into wet gurgling. Crunching sounds heard for the remainder of tape)
Forensics have found tracks leading away from the pool of blood. the tracks do not match any known human or animal on record.
–
Credited to LordRex.
people, when the character says “something that holds music” he only uses the MP3 player as an example. There are other devices that hold music that Ceasar could’ve gotton his hands on. An old voilin perhaps? Or maybe even a choir boy (you never know)? For all we know, Ceasar knew how to sing and his vocal cords were a legit excuse for “something that holds music”. You guys need to think farther than just this century when you read these. I know that I would normally tear it to shreds when reading an incosistency like that but there are things other than your iPod that produce music.
there were no dogs in ancient rome. lame.
He said Candlejack and didn’t
That was pretty well written, actually. Aside from a few blaring errors, of course. One being the “of” instead of “or” in the beginning portion. The second is that he said Candlejack and di
That was fucking shit. All this cliche ‘crunching sounds heard for remainer of tape’ and ‘tracks do not match any human or animal on record’ made me sick. This was so uncreepy and just plain horseshit that I want to find the author and reenact what happened to the protagonist and his family on the author, and his family. I don’t normally get this angry over a badly-written creepypasta, but that’s because this creepypasta isn’t badly written. It’s so fucking shittly recorded that it does not deserve to even be called writing, I feel incredibly, personally embarassed for the writer.
/endrant
THEN WHO WAS TROLL?
THEN WHO WAS FOOTFALL?
And I’m not ready to take out the eye of a poor two-week old puppy, just to do something that might get me killed.
No thanks, I’ll pass.
Overall, I thought this story was interesting.
“I just came from the hospital. Pulled the plug on my ex.”
Spent the rest of the story wondering why he had power of attorney over his ex.
i’ve read this before….i think. Still creeps me out a little, probably because i read it late at night.
I think it’s a pretty good story but why did it have to be a puppy? seriously thats animal cruelty >:( gawd they should have made it a human eye…yeah that sounds better
lolol wins
that was sooooooo good. but the puppies eye thing was messed up.
i think the monster thing with the one footfall was satan.
I’m sorry. You lost me at “On top of Mount Everest, inside the 5001st paving stone on the Great Wall…” That’s some major geography/history fail right there for a story which depends so much on the reader recognizing the historical legitimacy of the ritual.
Overall, I think you just tried to do too much with it, switching settings and delving to deeply into things that don’t actually matter to the core of the story and the jarring POV switch near the end.
Is the name John Doe as common as I believe it is?
i read footfall as footBall.
whoops.
oh well.
after the puppy thing i didnt like this one.
it didnt “make a lick of sense”
I like the basic premise of this one – the “ritual gone wrong” angle – but I didn’t like this particular pasta too much, sadly.
This was terrible.
The modern objects (mp3 players, memes and so on and so forth) which tried to make this seem real failed miserably. I mean, what is this?
This was horrible.
The creature tried to have the old “What you can’t see is scarier” rule but it failed, he even mentioned candle jack for Chri
I agree with hamburger, (one of the peeps who left the comment, scroll up) that the monster thingy was satan. But I personally call it the “Gurgle Monster!” ^^
I know what he did wrong. It was the coin, see in the story it said the coin must be made in the year of your birth so he must have grabbed a coin marked for that year…but they are actually made the year before.
How did he say Candlejack and finish the sto
BUT WHO WAS REVOLVER?
Could’ve been good, too inconsistent, etc. I think some of you judged too harshly without reasoning, and some of you didn’t think about it at all.
In all, it was pretty good. There are some things that bothered me. The left eye of a puppy?! Poor puppies! T_T And if I knew there was some THING out to get me, I’d have already used the revolver to kill myself. I wouldn’t wait to see if I had a chance of killing it ’cause chances are, I won’t stand a chance. :/
Lol. He said Candlejack and lived long enough to fini
I’m really confused.
It said if you did it correctly you’d hear a single footfall..
He heard it.. because that’s when he said, “Oh Christ.”
What gives?
How the fuck did Cesar get a CD to preform the ritual?!