Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction

Creepypasta

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Rating: 7.8/10 (83 votes cast)

For such a turning point in my life, the night I acquired a certain item is cemented in my mind only because of how mundane it was. I didn’t chance upon a dusty tome buried amidst a pile of mouldering books in a university library nor did I chance upon a madman with a basket of trinkets in a Bangladeshi backstreet. I was sat in my underwear, lit only by a dull blue glow from my computer monitor, browsing eBay for nothing in particular.

The music in my ears fluctuated again, the soulful notes of Toxic by Britney Spears being ebbed away, replaced by a strange yet familiar concoction of static and oppressive silence. I rolled my eyes and removed my headphones, tapping them against my palm while muttering half-formed sentences expressing my distain for ever purchasing them. After a few minutes of tapping refused to exorcise the demons in my earpieces, I began to browse for a replacement. I then, on that most unassuming of nights, stumbled upon a posting that would have irrevocable implications for me.

“Wireless Headphones. Unwanted present, only used once. Bought as a gift for my nephew. Only used once, given back to me “Because of the talking in them” Guaranteed good condition, no point letting them go to waste because of an overactive imagination”.

The auction seemed like an amazing deal, only an hour or so left, a fraction of the retail price, paid delivery. I placed a bid and took myself to bed, trusting the late hour to protect me from having my new trinket stolen from me. As it happened, I was right and they arrived a few days later.

That was when things began to happen. As I connected them to my pc, I could feel a strange heaviness to the air, like the charge in the air before a thunderstorm. I dismissed it easily enough; I thought it was simply a symptom of the muggy summer air.

An hour or so later, permitting the things to accrue a decent amount of charge, I placed them on my head, and flicked the power switch. I was surprised to find, however, that there was no background static. There was a deep silence. Childish as the notion seemed at the time, it felt just like the silence of a tomb. There was also the hint of another sound, the raspy hiss of a whisper on the edge of hearing. I cast it from my mind and tested the sound quality by playing a classical piece, the finale to swan lake. To my eternal shame I felt a flutter of relief as the beautiful notes of Tchaikovsky’s ballet cut through the silence. After a few minutes, however, I was pulled away from the reports I was busying myself with as I heard a familiar buzz of static in my ear, only now with a disturbing new sound mixed in.

Voices. Maybe hundreds, all talking at once in a hoarse, drawn out whisper. Some were too fast to comprehend, others too slow. Some were in different languages, some in long-dead tongues of syllables unpronounceable. I broke out in a sweat, eyes wide. I was the subject of these voices, the understandable ones at least. They spoke of my choice of music, the cut of my new clothes, the reports strewn across my desk. One voice cut through the throng however, a dirty sounding diseased rasp. It said only one thing, but it was enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck rise and my heart pound. It said, merely;

“It’s noticed us,”

I threw the headphones from my head and tore from the room. As I did, I heard a burst of oppressive, heavy noise burst from the headphones, a terrifying mix of an air-raid siren and the static screech of an unturned radio.

It was at this point I decided I needed to be out of the house. I bolted down the stairs, leaping the last few. As I fought with the tangle of keys that resided on the small table by my living room door, I heard another sound, or more accurately a lack of it. An oppressive, murky silence had overtook the whole house. Behind me I heard a rising hum as the TV turned itself on, bathing the room in shifting shadows. From the static on the screen the head and shoulders of a man resolved. With a sickening sound of papers and flesh tearing an arm burst forth, implanting a shifting grey and white hand upon the ground with a curiously wet smack. Then the other came through with an equally sickening herald. The figure then began to flail itself forward and back, battering its head against the inside of the screen until it burst through with a sound akin a coconut being hit by a truck. Thus freed, it’s upper half flopped pathetically onto the floor, pulling the remainder of its body through with a series of motions and sounds that made me sick to my stomach.

I felt my legs fail beneath me, slumping to the ground, my car keys pointed forward in a parody of a defensive stance. It came towards me, walking on its hands and feet until I could feel it next to my face, a horrid smelling mist the odour of old books and rotting flesh lurching into my nostrils in a ragged wheeze. I tensed up, waiting to feel jaws on my throat, hands around my neck, anything, but none came. Through trembling lips I managed to force a single question to the strange creature.

“W…Why are you here,” I stammered. I could feel it smiling.

“You heard us,” it said, in a voice full of malice and pain “You listened to us, you’re our toy now,” It laughed, a hollow, empty sound. “Lucky you,” And then, I was alone. I felt the presence go, the oppressive sounds of static and dull silence stripped away leaving the usual night sounds in its wake.

I don’t know how long I lay there, staring at nothing, before sleep overtook me. When next awoke I took the headphones and gave them to a charity shop. A symbolic gesture, for now those terrible spectres visit me nightly, that horrible shifting man their herald, getting their fun from seeing my human fear.

But that brings us to the real reason I’m telling this story. Be careful when you stare into a screen of static, or hear what a rational man would assume to be interference of your headphones, or even when you’re in complete silence. Be careful not to listen to closely, for strange and terrible things lurk in that maelstrom of black and white.

And once they find you, you will never, ever be free.


Credited to Obnoxious Brit.

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Rating: 7.8/10 (83 votes cast)
Listening In, 7.8 out of 10 based on 83 ratings
  • Shuriken

    too White Noise ish for me…

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • H.P. Lovecraft

    Exquisite pasta.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • Anonymous

    “soulful notes of Toxic by Britney Spears”

    lol

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    Rating: +22 (from 22 votes)
  • David

    A few grammatical errors in there, but I still loved this pasta.

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Dirjel

    “terrifying mix of an air-raid siren and the static screech of an unturned radio.”

    Someone’s been playing too much Silent Hill.

    …Or maybe it’s just me XD

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    Rating: +10 (from 10 votes)
  • Shuleeps

    I don’t know, I didn’t like it. Seems like the author of this short was kind of trying too hard almost. Writing wise, description.. just didn’t do it for me. Also, shitty taste in music. But that’s besides the point.

    Descriptive words are good- but only when they are used in the right sentences & for the right meaning. There was a lot of repetition in this story, and some spelling/grammar errors that took away from it. And like I said, it just seems like the author of this was trying too hard to come across as an in depth writer. There’s a thin line between sounding smart & polished compared to sounding dumb & using words beyond your skill level.

    Hope that wasn’t too harsh.
    :D

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    Rating: -4 (from 8 votes)
    • Anonymous

      I don’t know, I didn’t like this comment. Seems like the commenter was trying to be too insightful. Critically, it’s pretty vague… Just didn’t do it for me. And kind of ad hominem, but that’s beside the point.

      Good points are crucial, but only when they constructively aid the creative process of the original author. There’s not a lot of professionalism in this comment. And like I said, I just think this commenter was trying too hard to come off as an insightful yet brutally honest critic. There’s a thin line between comic off as jaded and shrewd, and just being silly in your critique.

      Hope that wasn’t too harsh.
      :D

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      Rating: +8 (from 10 votes)
  • mrd

    The “Only used once, given back to me “Because of the talking in them” bit kinda gave the whole point away.
    Also, the ending is kinda cliche, I was hoping for something more original that something has made the main character its toy for all eternity, blah blah blah…

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    Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)
  • Cow~

    i cant resist the urge…AHHHH! BUT WHO WAS STATIC?!

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    Rating: -3 (from 3 votes)
  • ZenRai

    They should have embedded a general white noise sound into the page for this one. XD

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    • FlamingUmbrellas

      NO BECAUSE THEN I’D SMASH MY COMPUTER AND KILL SOMETHING THAT WOULD NOT BE AN OKAY THING TO DO.

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      Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • An Hero

    Someone find Sadako we seem to have found a nice tv-man for her….

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • http://www.heatherface.com Heatherface

    The literary masturbation got to me a little. Pretty good story though.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • NeverLeave

    I think it was okay, but the last two paragraphs were rushed and it ended a bit badly.

    Overall it was just… meh.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • Booyah

    Thumbs up

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    Rating: -2 (from 2 votes)
  • http://shirakoala.blogspot.com/ Shira

    The ending had no impact.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • katie

    what a bitch, why would they give the headphones to someone else?

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • Her

    Wow….

    not creepy…. just weird….

    BUT THEN WHO WAS BRITNEY SPEARS?!?

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    Rating: -1 (from 1 vote)
  • ArtVandelay

    Grammar errors, dumb idea, too long, unoriginal, and NOT SCARY AT ALL.
    3/10

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    Rating: +1 (from 3 votes)
  • HackerOnHacker

    Lovely. I liked how the use of first-person perspective was used, but it would have been so much better without that last paragraph.

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    Rating: -1 (from 1 vote)
  • ben dover

    don’t know if want :/

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  • Anon

    BUT THEN WHO WAS HEADPHONE?

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    Rating: 0 (from 2 votes)
  • Woo!

    I liked it alot. :D

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    Rating: -1 (from 1 vote)
  • Чмар

    BUT WHO WAS HEADPHONES?

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    Rating: 0 (from 2 votes)
  • Anonymous

    THEN WHO WAS HEADPHONES?

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  • Alpheria

    This was a pretty good pasta for me, but I don’t like how most pastas have that concluding line that overly sums up the purpose.

    But besides that and a few grammatical errors, it was creepy! :D

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    Rating: -1 (from 1 vote)
  • Anonymous

    I have to say that the whole “hidden voices inside the white noise” thing is a bit upsetting to read again, seeing as it’s already been written up too many times for it to be surprising.

    Still, I thought this pasta made it a bit more detailed, and therefore somewhat original. Some grammatical errors, but otherwise an alright pasta.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)

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