Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction

Creepypasta

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Rating: 8.9/10 (512 votes cast)

My life has been somewhat, ruined, by an experience I had when I was younger. I think so often back to the time my experience happened. Nobody ever believed my story at the time, so I decided to write it now, for the world to see.

It began really when I was 14 or so, when my family moved home. My Dad had been offered a job with better pay and a mere week later, we had sold our house and rented an apartment in the town we moved to. It was during the summer we moved, so it was simple starting at my new school. When term began I nervously walked from our apartment building to the school which was rather close. I hadn’t had the chance to meet any local kids so I knew nobody and was scared of having to make new friends all alone. I don’t recall really speaking to anybody that morning, I was too shy you see. I just took my timetable in a slightly trembling hand and looked to see what my first class was. Maths, in room 104. I checked the little school map hand-out I had been given, I looked at that map over and over. I couldn’t see my class room number at all. By then no staff were around me and I began to panic. Where the hell do I go?

I noticed on the layout of the building there was a whole section to the right of the school that seemed to have plenty of classroom sized rooms but no numbers. The class numbers on the far left of the school were numbers 300-310, the centre of the building had rooms designated in the 200-230 range. I decided my class room ‘104’ would logically be to the right. I walked down long corridors, most of the other students were not new, and so they had already made it to their classes whilst I contemplated my map. Because of this, the corridors were now deserted. In retrospect, I should have just found the help desk and asked them to give me directions but I was so shy I’d rather try and do it alone.

Anyway I followed the building layout and at the end of an eerily quiet and long corridor, my passage was blocked by rather old looking wooden double doors that didn’t open when I pushed. This seemed wrong. Like this part of the building was not meant to be entered. I played with the idea that someone had accidentally shut them or maybe I just wasn’t pushing hard enough.

I rammed into the doors with my shoulder and with a scraping sound of metal on wood, they opened. I realized then that I had broken the bolts on the other side of the door which were brittle with rust. Horrified at having broken a door lock on my first day, I was about to turn and run from the scene and just ask someone to help my find my class. I obviously shouldn’t be in this part of the school. The new corridor was old and dusty. The lockers were all hanging open and unused. A faint smell of mould hung in the air. But as I turned I noticed the numbers painted on the glass windows of the doors along the corridor. The one nearest to me read; ‘100’.

Perplexed I checked my timetable again to assure myself that I had read my class number correctly. It was clear; my room was ‘104’. And just along this corridor apparently. I began to walk slowly, looking into the windows of each class I passed. 100, empty, 101, empty, 102, empty except for a plastic skeleton hanging in the corner by a pile of yellowing student lab coats. Still, it was enough to make me flinch. As I checked 103 (empty) I heard the voice of an adult man coming from the room opposite. Room 104. I peeked through the window. Full.

Except it wasn’t what I expected to see. Sure, there was a teacher, wearing a worn brown suit and blue bowtie, and there were students, all focused on this teacher sitting apart from one another on old fashioned wooden tables. What made me pause was what they were wearing. Kids didn’t dress like that anymore, It looked like a classroom from an old film or show. The teacher stood beside a blackboard dusty from chalk.

Despite this oddity, I knocked on the door. I assumed the school had a poor budget.
The teacher didn’t notice my knocking, so I quietly opened the door and walked in. None of the students took their gaze away from the teacher, who also paid no attention to me.
I awkwardly apologised for my lateness, citing that I had gotten lost. I then made my way over to the only free seat in the room and sat down. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I must have interrupted the class I thought.

The teacher began his lesson a few seconds later rather casually. His name was Mr Telori. He began to chalk equations on the board and got the class to solve them. The lesson was rather ordinary; except for the fact no calculators were used. Whenever I raised my hand to answer a question, almost too try and win back favour from the teacher, he ignored it and always chose another student to answer the problem.
The lesson ended abruptly after what felt like hours. By the end of it I was bored and miserable. I just wanted to get home and complain about the way I was ignored.

When I left the room I felt pangs of hunger. I glanced at my watch and was shocked to see the school day had ended. A whole day of maths? Horror. I had decided I hated that school.
I walked slowly home, going over the day’s events in my mind. It was all very weird, but I supposed I would get used to this new school eventually.

When I got home my mother was talking on the home phone. Her face displayed confusion. She heard me come in and frowned when she saw me. She looked somewhat angry and asked whoever was on the other end of the phone line to hold, and then she accused me of skipping school.

Confusion followed. I told her I was in class all day, but apparently the school had phoned to say I wasn’t in any lessons and hadn’t seen me after I collected my timetable. I said I was in Mr Telori’s class in room 104 all day. I must have missed the register when I was late I thought.

My mum paused and told the school on the phone my story. Her expression froze after a few seconds and then she looked at me rather worriedly.

She hung up the phone and told me what the school had said.

Mr. Telori had not worked at the school in thirty-eight years.

Apparently room 104 was part of an abandoned section of the school that hadn’t been used since a school shooting nearly forty years ago.

The school thought I was playing some sick joke.

******

That night I went on the web to find out if what the school said was true. Quickly I had found old newspaper articles about the school massacre that had been archived.

A madman had simply walked into the school with a hunting rifle and shot a whole class dead. He had blocked the doorway and shot everyone in a maths classroom. An old grainy photo showed the class where the murders happened. I recognised it immediately. It was room 104.

An obituary showed tributes to the dead and photos of all that had died. I recognised them, too. Mr. Telori and all the students I had spent a day with.

My heart felt like it had stopped. I felt sick. I felt cold to my bones at that moment.

After that day I changed schools.

******

Now, years later I’ve written this, my account of what happened to me, which nobody had ever believed.
The reason, why now?

Yesterday I received a letter in the post. There was no address; it had simply appeared through my letterbox. It was a class reunion invite, signed by my old teacher.

Mr. Telori.

Credit To: A J M

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Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.9/10 (512 votes cast)
The Class, 8.9 out of 10 based on 512 ratings
  • http://www.dog.com Anonymouse

    THEN WHO WAS CLASS?!?!

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    Rating: -42 (from 64 votes)
    • THE WENDIGO

      IT EXPLAINED WHO CLASS WAS! DONT BE A WEENIE!

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      Rating: +53 (from 57 votes)
      • jj abrMs

        dude its a running gag on creephpasta read who was phone

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        Rating: -33 (from 41 votes)
        • Jenn

          It’s an old, annoying gag.

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          Rating: +27 (from 35 votes)
  • TheRadHatter

    That was great! :) I really enjoyed it. Kinda reminds me of Tate Langdon from American Horror Story. :3

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    Rating: +13 (from 19 votes)
    • A J M

      I love American Horror Story! I never thought of that.

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      Rating: +4 (from 10 votes)
      • TheRadHatter

        I love it too. Never missed an episode. :)
        Evan Peters

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        Rating: +6 (from 6 votes)
    • Muuuunster.

      i was thinking the same thing while reading! american horror story is one of my favorite shows, and tate is the most well-developed characters in the series.

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      Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • creeper

    did you still go to the reunion

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    Rating: +42 (from 44 votes)
  • Jade

    awesome story. It made my heart beat fast.

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    Rating: +8 (from 8 votes)
  • robo

    I enjoyed this one :)

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    Rating: +8 (from 8 votes)
  • creepalicious

    Ooooo I really liked that pasta

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    Rating: +7 (from 7 votes)
  • lookingforexcitement

    That made my heart beat faster. That was wonderful. What a splendid job, dude. I shall love you forever.

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    Rating: +2 (from 4 votes)
  • Shane

    Very good! One of (if not the best) Story I’ve ever read! I liked the ending I just wish it was a bit longer and had more back story to it but it was amazing nonetheless

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    Rating: +5 (from 9 votes)
  • Zach

    Wow, that was an awesome pasta. One of the best I’ve ever read! You should be super proud of yourself man! That was grade A horror!

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    Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)
  • the grim sleeper

    im writing one too,well was,i took it to the point where it was to complicated and long but now im writing a different one,a shorter one,anyway it was amazing! loved it,thats some real talent! :)

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • Anonymous

    It was okay, except for all the obvious plot holes. Normal kids don’t ram doors if they don’t open. And even if they did, why would one walk through a clearly abandoned hallway instead of going and asking someone?

    Also, how a man could walk into a school (unnoticed) sporting a rife that would be over 38 years old today and kill every student without any retaliation is beyond me.

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    Rating: -4 (from 10 votes)
    • Sarah

      I guess you’re unfamiliar with Columbine, Virginia Tech, if we’re going back then the Bath School shootings. I guess people tend to listen when one has a gun.

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      Rating: +7 (from 7 votes)
      • CrazyAsian

        Yes, it reminded me of the Sandy Hook incident too.

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        Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)
      • CL

        I think the point Anon was trying to make was that a hunting rifle is often bolt action, mag-less (internal magazine) and can maybe hold a max of 5 shots. It’s very unlikely that an entire class would have stood still while this guy fired 5 shots, took another minute to reload, fired five shots, ad infinitum until the whole class was dead.
        Comparing this to Sandy Hook, VT, Columbine, ETC is that the perpetrators used semi and fully automatic weapons

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        Rating: -2 (from 2 votes)
  • THE WENDIGO

    WHOA THAT WAS SPOOKY!

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
    • Shinra

      Was it? I couldn’t bare the crappy writing to get through the second paragraph… Bad sentence structure, lack of commas, and shit that downright would not make sense whether you read it or recited aloud.

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      Rating: -3 (from 5 votes)
  • YOU CANT HANDLE THE- hai

    this waas very spook and very easy to believe

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    Rating: -6 (from 8 votes)
    • YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE USERNAME!

      Dafuq? DON’T YOU STEAL MY USERNAME!

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      Rating: +8 (from 10 votes)
  • Anonymous

    That actually sounds like it’d be pretty fun to experience – your life wasn’t threatened in any way, and you got to see a glimpse of what life was like in the past. Now, another person has mentioned some plot holes they’ve seen, but the biggest one to me is… He and the other students didn’t pay attention to you whatsoever while you were in class… so why would the teacher bother inviting you to a class reunion?? I’d go, though ^^

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    Rating: +2 (from 6 votes)
  • jenny

    That was awsome!

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Amber

    Maybe the ghost was trying to apologise? Maybe he wanted the chance to haunt the kid again? Who knows… maybe he was just lonely and wanted some fleshy company…?

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • H

    Great read, I read this story like it was an Episode of Are You Afraid of the Dark.

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    Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)
  • A J M

    It was my first pasta so I appreciate that there were a few plot holes. Thank you all for the feedback, I blushed. More stories are on the way soon.

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    Rating: +4 (from 4 votes)
  • j.alexis

    wow, i really liked this pasta! it really caught my interest while reading. i could really visualize the story as it was occurring too. great job, keep it up.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • FlyingPenguin

    Write him back "Your class sucked. F*** you!"

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    Rating: -1 (from 3 votes)
  • Eh

    Pretty good, but couldn’t take it seriously because of "Maths". A man can only take "Maths" so many times before it becomes less of a horror story and more of a proofread.

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    Rating: -10 (from 10 votes)
    • GeneralChaos

      It’s called “maths” in the UK.

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      Rating: +10 (from 10 votes)
  • anonnn

    Maybe you should have gone to Englishs instead of Maths that day.

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    Rating: -8 (from 12 votes)
    • A J M

      I’m British and we say Maths?

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      Rating: +7 (from 9 votes)
      • anonnn

        i’m Cobra Commander and I say Mathsssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

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        Rating: +7 (from 7 votes)
  • http://www.karlarei2003.deviantart.com KarlaRei

    There were a few places where the tense didn’t agree, but I loved the overall story.

    Did he go to the reunion? That would be a good subject for a sequel.

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    Rating: -2 (from 2 votes)
  • Steve

    One of the best I’ve ever read.

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

    Nice story. I’ve been eating a lot of pastas, and I’ve noticed that common in all these courses are the shocks. At first the plot was very predictable, and the initial shock was not so surprising (inadvertent time-travel, surprise, surprise). The second shock though delightfully caught me off guard.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)

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