Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction

Creepypasta

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Rating: 8.8/10 (401 votes cast)

Janie awoke with a start, jerking out of her nightmare back into reality. She looked about her room reassuring herself with its familiarity. The feel of the cotton sheets that she had washed till they were as soft as silk, the scratchy blanket her grandmother had given her for her eighth birthday, and the scent of smoke and lumber rising up from the basement. But as she settled back into her senses things began to seem a little off. Her sheets seemed a touch too rough, the blanket felt like a slightly different material, and the smell of the room was a little too sharp, almost mechanical.

She figured she was just a little rattled from the nightmare; it had been quite a doozy. She remembered being immersed in ice-cold water with a forest of wires coming in and out of her. There had been a cold mechanical eye hovering above her, suspended by a mechanical arm that hung from the ceiling, the blank red glare from its stare had bored into her eyes.

She decided that a hot glass of milk would fix her up, and send her right back to sleep. She ventured downstairs almost breaking her neck in the process. It seemed the stairs were just a bit shorter than her feet remembered; a misplaced step sent her tumbling down them. Luckily there was a landing to break her fall halfway down. Breathing heavily from the fall, and still shaken up by her nightmare she tip toed into the kitchen to get a glass of milk. But far from calming her down, the midnight beverage made things much worse.

The milk tasted funny, not like it had gone bad, but just off. The mug felt too rough in her hands, and the beeps of the microwave were a few pitches off. She hurriedly finished her drink, wanting desperately to go back to bed. Surely when she awoke she would be back in the world she knew. She went to return the milk to its shelf in the fridge. But as she reached out to grasp the handle, she saw in the reflection of the polished refrigerator door, the cold mechanical eye from her nightmare.

She screamed in fright, dropped the milk, and whipped around ready to confront the demonic machine, but nothing was there. She cursed herself for being so stupid, and got a rag to clean up the milk that had spilled from the container. As soon as it was mopped up she hurried back upstairs, wanting desperately to lose herself in her sheets.

She leaped back into her bed and hunkered down eager for this strange experience to be over. But as she laid there she felt something watching her, that mechanical eye from her dreams was haunting her waking thoughts. She decided to turn the lights on, she knew she was being silly but it would make her feel better. She flipped the switch on her bedside lamp, and looked about as light flooded the room.

Nothing was there, just as she ought to have known. There was no mechanical eye hiding in the corners. But something was odd, the light, a curly fluorescent bulb that normally threw off a brilliant white light, was a few shades too yellow. It was almost unnatural, and it cast everything in a sickly light. Janie knew something was wrong, but she had no idea what it was or how to fix it. She turned to lie back down hoping she could bury her problems in her dreams, but as she turned her eyes caught the picture on her bedside table.

It was from a Christmas several years ago. She was standing next to her brother, with their parents behind them, and her dog sitting at their feet. They were all wearing goofy Christmas sweaters, and shredded wrapping paper was strewn about the floor. They each had a grin as wide as the Mississippi plastered across their faces, but above each grin sat a pair of cold, dead, mechanical eyes.

Janie screamed, flailed, and crashed to her bedroom floor. She picked up the picture and hurled it into the back of her closet. Janie knew for certain now that something was wrong, something had been wrong since she had awoken, something was here.

It took Janie several minutes to calm down, and she dared not look into her closet where the picture lurked. As she collected her thoughts she started to realize more and more things were wrong. The grain of the wood floors ran the wrong way. Her walls were baby blue not robin’s egg. Hundreds of tiny details were wrong with her room. She had no idea how all of these things could have changed while she had slept.
It began to dawn on her, the only explanation for all the changes. she had never woken up. She was still asleep trapped in the most vivid dream she had ever had. So if she was asleep then the solution was simple. She just had to wake up. Janie tried pinching herself, hoping that small act would bring her back to blessed familiarity, but no such luck. She tried pinching harder, more vicious, but it seemed no amount of pinching would end the nightmare. She tried kicking the bedframe but she received nothing from it but several throbbing toes. She thought maybe a shower would do it.

She went to her to her shower and turned the faucet on. She turned the knob to its coldest setting, hoping the shock of the water would awaken her. She pulled down the end of the faucet and water began to shoot out of the showerhead. She undressed quickly, feeling goose bumps ripple across her body as cold droplets of water escaped the curtain and splashed her. She stepped into the shower dreading the cold shock, but praying it would wake her up. It didn’t. She stepped out and turned the knob all the way in the other direction, hoping hot water could accomplish what cold water could not. As she waited for the water to heat up the bathroom began to fill with steam. After several minutes she was sure the water was plenty hot enough, and its touch would rescue her from this nightmare. She stepped into the shower. The water burned, she wanted to scream out in pain, but she stayed as long as she could hoping enough pain would wake her up.

Eventually when she could take no more she stepped out into her steam filled bathroom, her body was covered in angry red streaks from the scalding hot water. As she looked about her for her clothes she noticed the steam was sinking to the floor, as though it were unnaturally heavy. Janie began to worry, what if she could never wake up? She dried off and threw her clothes back on. As she went to leave she looked into the mirror, and behind her, hanging from its lifeless mechanical arm, was that cold mechanical eye.

Janie screamed and sprinted out of the bathroom, and down the stairs. She needed to wake up now, that thing was growing bolder, and it was coming for her. She didn’t know what else to try, what could possibly wake her up? As she thought she began to hear mechanical whirring and clicks from the hallways. She retreated to the center of the kitchen getting as far from the noises as she could. The noises grew louder and drew closer. She began to sob, praying to god that this whole thing would just end. She just wanted life to be normal again. An idea began to form in Janie’s mind. There was one thing that always woke you up from your dreams. Whenever you were about to fall to your death, you woke up. Whenever the psychotic murderer was about to catch you, you woke up. Janie just needed to die, and she would wake up, but she couldn’t let that thing be what killed her. She didn’t know how, or why, but she knew if it caught her she would never wake up.

The noises drew closer and Janie began to cry again, but her desperate plan filled her with a grim determination. She crept to the corner where she kept the knives. It was gruesome, but she knew what had to be done. She opened the cabinet and pulled out a small paring knife. It didn’t need to be large to get the job done, just sharp. The noises drew closer and increased in volume, filling Janie with dread. She began to draw the knife down her arms, opening large slits in the belly of her forearms. She watched as blood poured out across her arms and spilled onto the counter. She laughed as she watched, too mentally exhausted to care. She worried only about waking up. She looked up from her arms, feeling woozy, and in the doorway of the kitchen hung the cold mechanical eye. Janie screamed, she wasn’t awake yet; she wasn’t dying fast enough, her fear coursed through her filling her mangled limbs with strength. She grabbed a large butchers knife from its holder and slammed it into her own chest. She laughed manically as she watched her lifeblood pour out of her chest. It was a sickly unnatural shade of red. She looked up and saw the cold mechanical eye advancing towards her. She sobbed, and shrieked as that monster drew closer. She pulled the knife out and drove it home again. Blood came thundering from her chest. As it rushed out of her and pooled on the floor Janie collapsed, she lay on the ground, her vision fading, and she smiled in victory knowing she had beat that demonic machine. She was waking up.

Janie lay in a Plexiglas container, surrounded by ice water. A forest of wires and tubes led in and out of her body. Her body jerked spasmodically, she appeared to be fighting some invisible foe. The system watched as she struggled with her virtual reality. She was quickly becoming a very interesting subject. No one had ever noticed it was an illusion so quickly, and so many times in a row. This was her fastest time yet. Only thirty minutes and she had successfully terminated the sequence. Her mind had even managed to retain some images of the system itself. The system was impressed. In a few more trials the subject would be approved for cloning. Her genes could prove quite valuable for future science. The cold mechanical eye lowered itself to Janie’s container and began running diagnostics on the events of the last sequence. Hopefully she would improve again. Some subjects suffered too much psychological damage to continue testing. Such subjects were bad for science. Some may call Janie’s treatment torture that it was not proper science, but she was still alive, and that was more than you could say about many of her fellow subjects. The mechanical eye completed its diagnostic procedures, and reset the sequence.

Janie awoke with a start, jerking out of her nightmare back into reality.

Credit To: redbullreptar

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Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.8/10 (401 votes cast)
Redo, 8.8 out of 10 based on 401 ratings
  • DerpDeDerp

    This reminded me of portal.

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    Rating: +22 (from 22 votes)
    • Anonymous

      I agree, pretty derivative if you ask me. Especially how the motivation was “for science.” I liked most of the story but it can be improved by replacing the red eye to be less portal like and elaborating at the end.

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      Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)
      • FFKonoko

        The red eye reminded me of HAL for some reason.

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        Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
    • Jason

      Our the Matrix

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      Rating: 0 (from 6 votes)
  • Daulton

    Very well written, interesting, and i’d certainly like to read another story by this author.

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    Rating: +8 (from 12 votes)
  • thatgirl

    First! Delightful pasta.

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    Rating: -16 (from 20 votes)
    • Ahem..

      You were not first…just figured i’d throw that in

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      Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • Tattletalestangler

    Story was off, why didn’t she just try to put her finger through her palm. If she was dreaming it would work. Ry it when your sleeping if you don’t believe me

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    Rating: -26 (from 28 votes)
    • WhatisthisWinter

      Lol wut?

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      Rating: +19 (from 19 votes)
    • Olaf

      That requires control in your dream, something a lot of people don’t have

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      Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
      • anony

        she clearly had tons of control..

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        Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Bamb eyes

    Wow that was delicious

    Not only was the story good but so was the characterisation- something that I think is lacking in most pastas

    Moar plz :)

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    Rating: +16 (from 16 votes)
    • Anonymous

      I somehow doubt you know what characterization is seeing is how you can’t even spell it. Or more for that matter. I just boiled over I am so sick of people on here acting like ther a expert literary critics wow this one is well written or the stupid comment you made come on just read the damn things people you don’t have to act like an expert just scare yourselves with the good ones laugh at the bad ones leave a nice job or a you suck and move on to the next don’t try and critique things when you dont know what you’re talking about makes you look stupid. Not intelligent

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      Rating: -29 (from 41 votes)
      • Teecha

        Have you ever heard of British English, Anon? Get your facts straight before you “boil over”.
        Also, if you want to criticise someone’s spelling, try to avoid spelling errors in your comment. They make you look stupid. Not intelligent.

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        Rating: +31 (from 31 votes)
      • Jedawg

        I agree with you, I’ve only known about this site for a few days now but it seems to be filled with many literature “experts” from what I see.

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        Rating: -10 (from 14 votes)
      • Matt Sheff

        Do you realize that you not only have horrible grammar, but you’re also being a critic and acting like you’re superior? We’re being helpful and giving the authors constructive criticism. If you don’t like it, read your Creepypasta on another website.

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        Rating: +16 (from 16 votes)
      • Anon

        Meta creepy pasta: commenter was actually troll the whole time.

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        Rating: +5 (from 5 votes)
    • Anon

      I somehow doubt you know what characterization is seeing is how you can’t even spell it. Or more for that matter. I just boiled over I am so sick of people on here acting like ther a expert literary critics wow this one is well written or the stupid comment you made come on just read the damn things people you don’t have to act like an expert just scare yourselves with the good ones laugh at the bad ones leave a nice job or a you suck and move on to the next don’t try and critique things when you dont know what you’re talking about makes you look stupid. Not intelligent

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      Rating: -17 (from 17 votes)
      • jcsjvlsx

        I’m pretty sure you can uses an ‘s’ instead of a ‘z’ – american spelling, I think that’s what you’re thinking of. Maybe I’m wrong.

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        Rating: 0 (from 6 votes)
    • Freaky Fred

      Yo anon, shut the hell up. First off, what makes you think we aren’t qualified to be critics? Bullshit. Second off, what do you care? Don’t read the comments if it offends you to see people’s input.

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      Rating: +9 (from 11 votes)
  • Zach

    We have to go deeper…..

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    Rating: +10 (from 14 votes)
  • http://www.youtube/cockneypasta cockney pasta

    mate, you got me involed in the proraganist and creeped the… creeped me out.nice one.

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    Rating: +5 (from 5 votes)
  • omer_y

    What, she found out she was in the Matrix?

    talk about redo…

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    Rating: +1 (from 7 votes)
  • Shane

    Even though I saw this all from the beginning, this is by far, one of my favorite Creepypastas!

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    Rating: +7 (from 7 votes)
  • Dan

    Cake this way…

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    Rating: +6 (from 6 votes)
  • That_Fedora_Guy

    It really is a great story. Slightly creepy, but there was one thing that bothered me…

    Is the giant eye GLaDOS?

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    Rating: +8 (from 10 votes)
  • Shaianne

    I really loved this one! Nice twist ending too. The whole setting seemed very Matrix-ish, especially towards the end.

    10/10. This pasta tasted better than pizza.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • Proudly Insane

    I’m impressed. I heard mechanical eye, and thought it would be a Big Brother type story. Not necesarrily creepy per say, but definitely interesting. 9/10, would eat again :)

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • Candlejackass

    There is no spoon.

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    Rating: +5 (from 5 votes)
  • StoneH

    MOAR.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • WriterWolf

    Straight up brilliant. Well written, well plotted, and a great twist. The bionic eye was fantastically portrayed. 10/10.

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • Ashlee

    As an avid pasta reader, this is definitely one of my favorites! I figured it would be a dream where she wouldn’t wake up, or that maybe she was in a mental hospital after a suicide attempt.
    Whatever the case, this pasta was delicious.

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • Redbullreptar

    Hey guys I’m glad you all liked the pasta so much! for those who got portal vibes that’s exactly what I was going for the eye is indeed GlaDos. It’s awesome to see all the feedback. I’ll probably start writing another since this one worked out quite well.

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    Rating: +7 (from 7 votes)
  • Tardigrade

    “still alive” seemed a bit forced, but it did make me smile.

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Aleron XIV

    Don’t get me wrong, I loved the pasta, but the ending made me laugh because I thought of this. http://www.crappypasta.com/the-twist-a-parody/#.UMLKMoM0WSo

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    Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)
  • Anonymous

    Go honeys!!!!!!!!!!!

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Kofferabzuglichzeichenerklarung

    Truly a good creepy-pasta, and it all is actually quite possible. (i.e I’v studied the human brain sense I was in fourth grade). Are one of many species that can dream themselves to death.

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Anonymous

    I think we can leave our differences behind us. For science. You monster.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • DarthSaaara

    wow this was super good! I wasn’t real fond of the ending, when I read the first sentence I thought she was in the hospital and was attached to all the tubes and wires or whatever from her nightmare and they would have an eye watching her as like a camera or something, I don’t know. but aside from the ending, great pasta!

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Mr. Dafuq

    Wait, so she’s being hunted by GlaDos? Either way, still a good story

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)

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