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Sick



Estimated reading time — 3 minutes

I slept fine last night. Didn’t sleep so well Sunday though. It was my own fault, really. I did tell him he was welcome in if he pleased.

My dream began like one of those horror games you might see, like Silent Hill or Alone in the Dark. It was night out, and almost pitch black. I was holed up in some building, hiding from something. Or waiting. I peeked out; the door was glass and had some rule stickers on it. I suppose I was in a corner store. Upon looking out, I see a deserted street, lighted by a few dim streetlamps. The street was dead empty, dead silent. I seemed to be in the middle of a city… yet there was nothing.

I tentatively opened the door, creeping out into the cold night. Ever have on of those dreams where you can feel what’s happening? This was one of those dreams. I turned left out the door and began walking. The street was sloped, and I was going down. Suddenly I stopped in front of a building. Looking to my left at it, it seemed like a small house. Not one like you’d see in the city. It was in shambles, a light grey blue color. I felt the need to go in, to see the inside. I crept up to the door and turned the handle.

Opening the door, I looked in. There wasn’t much but a few boxes, a table, and a bed. I moved silently towards the bed. On it slept a person. I glared down at her for a few moments, her sleeping figure taunting me. I bent down, picked up an object, and swing.

The brick ensured that she would not wake up soon. Dropping the bloody, hair-matted brick, a message flashed through my mind, clear as day, a dark, deep, raspy voice speaking through my mind. “The sinew will sew together the darkness and damnation.” I only know of one kind of sinew; it’s the stuff inside of you, connected to your muscles and bones, that let you move the way you can. Looking over to the table, I saw the moonlight glinting off something. I walked over and there sat a knife, placed perfectly in the center, the blade facing away from me. He knew I was coming. He knew he could tell me to do this. He knew I would oblige.

I picked up the knife and walked back over to the unconscious form in the bed before me. Her blonde hair was spilled out around her, her head bleeding profusely. I feel now as though I recognized her… but I can’t be sure. I tore the sheet off of her and brought the knife down to her, stripping her flesh from bone, until he muscles were all visible. I began grabbing at the sinew, slicing at it, and piled it all up. Once I’d gathered all I could, I began wrapping it around itself. It formed a blindfold.

I put it on, and all was black. Until the darkness was filled with an image. A house far off, silhouetted against the night sky. Atop it was a figure, and a dog. The dog howled, and the figure turned towards me. His tattered cowl flapped in a soundless wind. His blazing eyes bored into me, the blood red beads that were his pupils boring into my soul. He grinned at me, knowing he’d just gotten one step closer to corruption. I began calling him. Like in many dreams, there were things I could not control; my voice was strained, and even though I shouted as loud and hard as I could, the sound traveled mere feet. I woke up soon after that, feeling as though I had not slept at all.

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And I knew I hadn’t. That wasn’t sleep. He’d brought me into his world. He’d done so many times before, and he’d watched what I did as I was placed in a deserted carnival, in a school of ravenous creatures waiting to devour me and my closest friend. He’s there sometimes, my friend, but I think I know why. I think he’s sick too.

I looked around and knew where I’d been. I knew what I’d seen. “The sinew will sew together darkness and damnation.” And it had. He’d shown himself to me. He was no longer what he’d been. A shapeless shadow. A shadow with eyes. One with a cowl and a demon grin. One who’s eyes glowed hot with flames. One who spoke to me, and caressed my face with clawed, shadowed hands.

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No.

He has a shape now. He’s real. He’s come so far there’s no way I can get rid of him now. He needs a vessel, and he’s chosen me.

Besides, everyone is a little sick, even if they don’t want to believe it.

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68 thoughts on “Sick”

  1. HEY PPL, JUST WROTE AN ALTERNATIVE ENDING…
    ACCIDENTALLY…
    BUT STILL
    It would be better if it took the shape of him and he started to take the shape of it, he woke up in sweating, went to the bathroom to splash water on his face, saw his shadow like hands, quickly flung the light switch on, looked in the mirror, and saw the entity, and it grinned back, no longer him, he fades away, and is trapped in his worlds. He comes back after the entity had killed, and has to bear the sight of the scene, and there is always something to see his reflection in… that damned smile. WOW—I got WAY too into this and wrote an alternative ending…ha.

  2. I liked this a lot, don’t see why people hate it. hopefully, i’ll try to get creeps mc’pasta to do it. probably not though

  3. :/ Not many people are making scary pastas anymore. They’re just weird. I think the dream part was interesting, but not scary. This pasta was very undercooked and is missing sauce.

  4. This “shadow” reminds me of the antagonist from a different pasta. Some of you may be familiar with “The House Job”

  5. thatgirl:
    It was about how everyone has a dark side and how his is taking over. Jeez, people, analyze.

    If you can’t find a meaning to a story, then don’t bother reading pastas anymore.

  6. aaaand. I typed the above with a smart phone, while I’m hungover! no errors…I believe. except for capital letters. but that’s because I’m rebellious against capital letters. THEY’RE UGLY!!!!!

  7. TERRIBLE!!
    Seriously, its like the incoherent babble of a 10 year old. sure the dream was an interesting in the same way that a shitty slasher movie is interesting, but there wasn’t anything truly creepy about.

    Also, using references to video games or movies in order to build a setting is really lazy and proves your not a good writer. MAKE YOU OWN SETTING.

    I actually can’t believe this got past the moderators.

  8. now i am somewhat new to the creepypastas and am sad because it seems to have died out so i expect no answer tothis or whatever but this was incredibly horrible.. i am sorry but poorly written

  9. Hmmm… I had to read this twice. The first time I was like ‘lol wut’, and wasn’t creeped out at all. Second time was a bit different. I looked at it from a different point of view, the ‘lol, not actually sleeping’ angle. Still wasn’t really creepy, as the writing needs some work. But with that condition in mind, it’s a sound concept.

  10. This is almost like “In the Flesh” by Clive Barker. Guy is in prison and shares a cell with crazy guy. Crazy guy talks to dead grandpa. First guy has dreams about a city with no people and all rooms have nothing but scenes of murders. Turns out everyone who murders someone spends eternity trapped at the scene of the crime, unless they find someone still alive to switch with.

    So, grandpa tricked his grandson into murdering someone so they could switch places, and he could live again in a young body.

    After this, the main character after going to the land of murderers finds himself able to hear every murderous thought of everyone he meets.

    That explains the whole “needing a vessel” and “everyone is a little sick” comments.

  11. *leaning back and forth*
    That’s ok, Mr. Fluffster. He won’t find us here, in the room with the couch on the wall…

    Haha, kidding. It was kinda bad actually. But good enough to read it while that Madonna video was on TV.
    Cheers!

  12. Holder of the Penis

    “…his pupils boring into my soul…”
    “…pupils boring…”
    “…boring…”

    Yep, that about sums it up.

  13. For such a long pasta, there is a serious lack of detail. The last line was obviously meant to be brick-shitting, but you’re left thinking, “Uh, okay.”

    Ambiguous writing can be creepy, but this was ambiguous in vital areas.

  14. @Megan.

    Dude. Get over it. It wasn’t a paticularly scary pasta. Some people are bound to like it, but the majority didn’t. There is nothing wrong with 39 people because most of them didn’t go off their bloody nut at people not liking pastas they did.

    You are in no place to say anyone ‘missed out on art’, because as it is said, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and obviously there aren’t many eyes on this pasta [and personally, if there were, I’d give them back]. So what if they missed a point you got? No one liked it, I don’t really think they care. I see no Picasso in this, neither do any of us find it very creepy, from what I can tell.

    Anyway. I liked the way it was written and as two seperate stories, it could be two really amazing creepypastas, if anyone took the challenge. I won’t, I suck at writing.

  15. You all missed out on art because you narrowly dictated stupid standards for a predetermined genre. NOTHING can be abstract to you. Is the only thing you can say is art happen before the 18th century? Is that how blind you are? this is a Picasso of creepy and you’ve all called it confusing scribbles. And confusion about the plot means you missed the entire point! absolutely ridiculous.

  16. Holy shit, what is wrong with you guys?!?!?!?!?!?!
    This story has such strong imagery, are you blind to the thoughts of literature?! RIDICULOUS You all are! This is a great vignette about a condition you ALLL should have picked up on. That’s right, i said it. Y’all missed the entire point. What the hell is wrong with 39 people?!

  17. I agree with #34. That reasoning does make sense, but, even for something meant to be cryptic, this was just badly done.

    A re-write, maybe. Any takers?

  18. You’re totally missing it, I think. The way I look at it, it’s simple.

    He says he “didn’t sleep at all”, thats because he was sleepwalking and this was a fantasy contructed around it. He killed someone for real.

    The thing about a school full of monsters? Obviously the same thing happened and he went on a killing spree.

    He’s being taken over by this “sick” part of himself, the part thats violent and cruel and evil, and it’s making him do stuff. Even that last line makes sense. We ALL have a part of us like that, that considers we could do so much better if we just killed that guy who bugs the crap out of us, that bully, etc, we just don’t admit it most of the time and keep it bottled up.

    But it’s there. And for him, its in control.

  19. @ 28

    Gladly. I almost wondered while reading this pasta that you guys would enjoy it as much as you enjoyed reading that retarded one about the ghoul fuck buddy. Why is creepypasta so lame now? Once again, we have a pasta that’s TL;DR, and disappointing at the end. Except this one was disappointing throughout. Where have all the good writers gone?

  20. the demon guy sounded hot. His red eyes remind me of vampires, the kind that arent in fiction stories. the caressing cheek thing won me over and the dream was interesting. The ending makes sense too me….

  21. Poorly written. The over all theme and words used for imagery is quite over done. I think that if it was re-written, the grammar and spelling mistakes were less, so on – that it would be a decent creepypasta at most.

    I sort of understand the last line, however, there should have been more pointing at it in the progression.

  22. You knew this was coming. Who was the figure? Who was the dog? Why did you think you knew the woman and yet never gave more information as to who she was? Why was the street empty? What was the significance of the house? Why didn’t you just use the knife to kill her? (A knife has to work a hell of alot better than a brick) and most important. How does his posession of your body
    effect us in any way, shape, or form? Answer these questions, and the story won’t be as horrible and confusing as it was.

  23. What the…?

    Kay, this pasta sucks. The dream part was horribly written, but fairly interesting, I suppose. It’s the end that got me. It made absolutely no sense, and it doesn’t fit with the rest of the story at all.

  24. In my previous comment, change “good be” to “could be” in third paragraph. Will make more sense that way.

    Just be happy I only made ONE typo at 3 in the morning, instead of as many as the author of this pasta did.

  25. This reads like a personalized version of one of the crappier ‘Holder’ stories.

    The dream took W-A-Y too long to get interesting, and I don’t know about most people, but “I” can never remember that much about a dream. Even my most vicious nightmares get fuzzy at the basic details, like whether or not I ‘crept’ up to a door handle or just grabbed it like I would any handle.

    Also, the figure was too cliche. I mean, come on, how many things in the night could possibly have: a devilish grin, red eyes, gaunt figure, long bony fingers, and some menacing visage? I would think at least a good handful of them good be obese abominations or enticing beauties or what-have-you.

    All-in-all, not a very good pasta at all. But, hey, at least it killed 10 minutes of my lunch break for me. And I do mean “killed.”

  26. The Person Formerly Known as 'Noneya'

    It feels like the beggining of one pasta nad the ending of anopther were crudley mashed togather.

  27. Anonymousity x 2

    IMO, the dream drew me into reading it further.
    But the end kinda ruined it.

    Maybe that’s because I’m listening to a ballad right now >.>”

  28. Thanks for the Futurama quote.

    Now, Phone, you know I never really bother to insult your pasta because I know some people will like it and some will hate it, but this one was really, really bad.

    Pocky had to pause at all the typos and clarify and it changed tense a lot. I mean, if *I* notice how bad the grammar is, it’s got to be horrible. Also, I agree, it made no sense. At the end of it I didn’t really get what the point was or why it was called ‘sick’ because the whole ‘oooh, everyone’s sick’ conclusion was totally disconnected from the rest of the story. Sounds like some thirteen year old boy wrote it.

    I liked the last one, with the drain lady. That one was freaky.

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