Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction

Creepypasta

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My name is David Nelson, I am a bounty hunter. But not human bounty, no. I hunt something much less predictable. I hunt animals, ones that have attacked people, I track them down and either capture them or kill them. But sometimes people pay me to hunt things that aren’t so easy to explain, such as the Chupacabra, or Bigfoot. Recently I have had many people who wanted to hire me to hunt the Slenderman, I turned them down. I am a man of morals, I knew Slenderman didn’t exist and I wasn’t going to take their money and give them nothing in return. Recently I launched one of my more unusual expeditions, and while I came back empty handed I was left with quite the tale.

I was hired by a woman to hunt a creature that she claimed had saved her life. She wouldn’t tell me the details. She wanted it alive, and she assured me she could offer adequate compensation. Against my better judgement I agreed. As always I said goodbye to my wife and three kids and headed out to whatever isolated location my target called home. After I left I pulled out the folder my researcher had given me on the creature. I am not exaggerating when I say this thing looked like something straight out of hell. It had the general form of a man but it wasn’t, it was a shark. It was depicted in a hunched position with blood covering it’s hands and mouth. It’s eyes were soulless and full of hate. I had been put on the trail of supposed fish-man sightings before, they were actually fairly common but this one was different. It’s most unusual feature was a pair of horns, like the devil himself was said to have. That was the kind of detail I didn’t like to see, when people make stuff up, they tend to keep their claims pretty standard, like bigfoot or nessie. Everyone sees the same thing because it’s all in their head. All based on some original hoax, which was based on reality so it would seem plausible. On the other hand when things start coming up mismatched, there is a good chance the witnesses were seeing something. The woman hadn’t had the foggiest idea where this thing was, but my behind the scenes research man had narrowed it to a small strip of coastline about 20 miles east of where she lived. I grabbed my rifle and traps and got into my truck.

Just five minutes after arriving on the scene I had already gotten a lay of the land, I noticed an old lighthouse nearby and headed for it. As I got closer I could see why it was abandoned, there were caves under it’s foundation and the entire thing had sunk about ten feet into the ground. Now it doesn’t take a genius to see that this was clearly the best place for this thing to reside. I tried to venture down carefully but I slipped, I’m not as young as I once was. At the bottom I could hear heavy breathing. Not like the the huffing and puffing of a tired runner, more like the breathing of something large. It was dark, so I pulled out my flashlight and looked around. A glint of metal caught my eye, it looked like gold. At first I thought today was my lucky day, but as I held my flashlight on it it disappeared for a second and came back. Then it moved.

As what I was looking at stepped further into my light I suddenly became very concerned. The reason the gold had disappeared was simple, it wasn’t some loose pirate’s dubloon hidden in the basement of an old lighthouse. It was a gold sphere in the left eye socket of the very creature I was hunting.

That isn’t in the picture I thought as I looked around for my rifle, it was on the ground only a few feet behind me. I grabbed it and turned to face the beast but it had already reached me. It grabbed the barrel of my rifle and yanked it from my hand, hurling it across the room. In it’s other hand was a knife. No, it wasn’t holding it, the metal blade seemed to come from beneath the creature’s skin. It put it’s face right up to mine, the gold eye turned in it’s socket as it looked over me. Then it stood up and began to walk away.

What I did next almost surely should have gotten me killed. I yelled at it “What, you don’t got the stomach for me? Don’t like yer’ meat this tough?” it was incredibly stupid but I didn’t like being toyed with. What I didn’t expect was a response, in a voice that was sickeningly human.

“Go back to your family David. Your wife would never recover from losing you.” I was shocked, I just sat there, just those few words had completely turned this situation on it’s head. This was no monster, it was something more, something sentient. I should have just listened and left but I was curious. I had to know what this thing was, why it had spared me. So once again I said the first thing that came into my head.

“What the hell are you?”

I will stop the story here briefly to explain one thing, from this point on I am relaying exactly what it told me. I will pause occasionally and slip a few words in about my state of mind as he was telling me this, but the story is all his.

“I was once a man, as I am sure you have already guessed. But what made me this way was not a curse as some might suspect, it was my own doing. I don’t remember much of my childhood, save for two things. The first was the death of my parents, killed by the mob. I was taken in by my aunt who lived far from the city where I grew up. The second was a feeling of worthlessness, brought on by not fitting in. I moved into the town too late in school, the pecking order was established and I fit at the bottom. No matter how hard I tried I stayed there. I now realize there is nothing I could have done about either except let it go. At the time though these things destroyed me.
I tried ignoring the judgements of the other kids, I tried fitting in with them. Nothing worked, there was always something eventually it was my dead parents. I realized that no matter how much I tried to be like all those other assholes I could never be. So I decided to be different. I found a concept called the uncanny valley, I won’t explain it to you know but it was exactly what I needed. Essentially if I couldn’t be accepted, I would have to become so distanced that I was no longer human, then I didn’t have to give a shit about anything. I thought long and hard about how to do this, dramatic plastic surgery was quickly ruled out, even the most dramatic changes those could provide still landed me within the limits of humanity, in fact they would put me in the middle of the valley I was trying to avoid. I eventually narrowed it to only two options that would truly allow me to transcend humanity, magic and genetics it was only a matter of which one I found within my grasp.
In the end I had to use a combination of the two, genetic engineering was still lightyears away from being able to completely replace one’s entire DNA let alone have them live. Magic would not work simply because the cost of creating matter and complex organic structures was just too steep. In the end my final method was a rather fitting mixture. Rather than transform myself, I would grow a new body in a tank, then when it had matured I would use magic to move my mind into it’s new host. The creation of said body took 10 years, but it didn’t matter in the long run because my new body would be the same age no matter what age I was when I entered it. I did manage to find a few other useful tidbits in my study of the arcane. I found a ritual that can turn your bones to steel, but allow them to heal just the same, I later learned that this ritual had other uses but I didn’t know at the time. I did have to pay to have a few genetic engineering laws stripped from the books, after all, I did intend to go out in public.
On the morning of my 30th birthday I drove myself out to the warehouse where I had been carrying out this project in secret. The weather was overcast but I had never been in a brighter mood. That day I would set my human foot into the tank chamber for the last time. Dragging behind me an unconscious deer I had tranquilized, regrettably the mind exchange ritual did require a sacrifice.”

He paused here and lit a fire, with the added light I got my first real look at him. He was taller than any man, probably seven feet, while his face was that of a shark it was somehow more intelligent. He had managed to keep his ability to show emotion. With a few exceptions his body was human in form muscular but not bulky. Again my eye was drawn back to the horns, when asked about them he admitted they were only an aesthetic touch. I pulled the sketch out of my pocket that depicted the snarling beast I had come hunting and threw it in the fire. The creature in that picture was nothing like the one which stood before me. I also noticed that where the blade had emerged from his skin, there was now only a scab.

He continued his story

“I pulled out my pocket knife and slashed across side of the deer. The wound was shallow but it produced enough blood for my purposes while keeping the animal alive. I drew a circle of blood on the ground and with a few words in an ancient dialect I chose the destination my soul would inhabit after the ritual. then I drew a talisman of blood onto my chest and began chanting. I didn’t know exactly what the words meant but as far as I had found they roughly translated to “Let my soul flow forth” within a minute I could see a glowing reddish mist leaking from my body, but instead of travelling to my new body it filled the room. Did I make a mistake? I thought to myself, as the mist rolled across the room I became aware of everything it touched, it was my consciousness in a visible form. As the mist stopped leaking out I was aware that I no longer felt my body, I was entirely between forms, I began to worry but I quickly felt something. My new vessel had begun to breathe, and slowly as it’s lungs filled my mind slowly returned from it’s free floating state. When it was complete I felt like I was going to collapse, but I also felt stronger than ever before. I stood up and walked, clumsily at first but soon I was accustomed to my new movements. I grabbed a few articles of clothing off my corpse, namely my coat and pants, and set out to enjoy my new life. As I left I noticed that my sacrifice which was alive at the beginning of the ritual was now dead, its eyes had burned out of his skull and its face was contorted into what could be described as a scream.
The transition was smoother than I could possibly have expected. Obviously people were scared, but by wearing formal clothing and acting casual I managed to keep most from panicking. Naturally my personal life took a hit, it became nearly impossible to pick up women who were entirely sober. Eventually as my presence sunk in, a few people began to feel comfortable in my presence. I even found someone romantically. I don’t like referring to her as my girlfriend, although that is the term that fits. She had no qualms with my appearance, in fact I like to think that she found my body attractive but I have no proof of that. Not long after we met we were living together. She was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He paused, stood up silently and left for quite a while, letting that last line sink in with me. I didn’t ask why he left, I was in no mood to test his hospitality. I did however take that chance to look around. There were a few objects around the caves, a piano, some framed pictures, a stack of loose books. When he returned I noticed a smear of blood on his face. I was beginning to wonder just where this story found it’s conclusion. He continued:

“My life was going better than it ever had. Not only did I not feel the need to fit in, but people stopped expecting it of me, I stopped getting lectures from strangers because people didn’t expect me to think like them anymore. Unfortunately I soon found that this same phenomenon had downsides as well.
It had been about two months, slowly word of me spread. As this happened local religious groups began to fixate on me. To them I became a symbol, I was literally demonized. They started protesting, they followed me wherever I went, some went so far as to say I was satan himself. With a few exceptions people stopped associating with me, eventually I was left with only a few friends, most of which would not be seen with me in person. Only Lynn stuck by me. Soon the growing mobs turned their attention to her, they called her awful things like whore and sinner and harassed her constantly. She became an outcast alongside me, I had dragged her into what should have been my own personal hell.

The crowds got bolder and bolder, they started coming inside my house, I never had any time alone with Lynn anymore. Until that one terrible day, we were coming out of a store and some drunk redneck broke from the crowd. He had a beer bottle in one hand and a rifle in the other. A few of his buddies stood at his sides, hootin’ and hollerin’. He finished his drink and threw it aside yelling something incomprehensible and then he pulled up the rifle.”

He paused again. I got the bad feeling that this story was about to take an ugly turn. He began to speak again but this time slower.

“A shot rang out.

I looked down at my chest expecting to see a wound but there was nothing, as the crowd went silent I turned to see her falling, a bullet wound right through her eye. For a second I simply stood still watching her fall, I couldn’t bring myself to catch her, she was already dead. I turned to face the shooter, I slowly lurched forward and then in an instant I was right in front of him. He had a look of drunken, stupid pride on his face, undoubtedly he had shot her in the name of his church. It sickened me, it was not one man’s place to choose who lives and who dies. But I was no man…

Not anymore.

I punched him so hard in the stomach that I could feel my fist snap his spine, then I threw another punch that connected with his face, his skull shattered as he was launched back into the crowd, trailing blood. I stood there for a second, the man’s friends were too drunk to understand what had just happened but I knew what I had done. I looked for a hole in the crowd but I couldn’t find one, I was completely boxed in. I couldn’t stay here, I had to get away. In a moment of desperation I simply ran through the wall of people. I cleared the path without much issue, people were suffering major injuries as I threw them aside but I didn’t care. What was done was done, I had just cemented my place in the public eye.

As I ran it occurred to me, I had done to myself what governments had been doing to their enemies since the dawn of civilization, I had dehumanized myself. They would find no hesitation in killing me now. I took the risk of stealing Lynn’s body from the morgue, I buried her myself, knowing that her tainted reputation would keep anyone else from doing it properly. I couldn’t go home again, silently I went to the house and took a few things, including a gold cross that had been passed down in Lynn’s family. I didn’t like being reminded of her, but I felt bad leaving it there. Ironic that the thing that reminded me of here would be a cross, after religion was what condemned her.

I spent that year moving between abandoned buildings, staying out of the views of the police. During that time my rage festered. Human society had deemed Lynn’s life worth less than that piece of trash who had murdered her, at least that was how I saw it. He killed her for no reason, I killed him for justice, but if there had been a trial I would undoubtedly have been given a death sentence, that is two lives for the cost of one worthless one. I finally realized my purpose. While I was human my life had no more value than pieces of human refuse like that, now I was more than that, I could choose who lived and who died. Soon after this I discovered that I was more suited to kill than I wanted to admit, in addition to my jaws and my physical strength and speed, I found that my metal skeleton could be re-formed at will, and by consuming extra metal I could force spikes of it through my skin. I was too efficient of a predator to cower in the darkness any longer.”

He paused briefly to showcase his ability. He held out his arm near the fire and I could see a metal spike emerge from beneath his skin. It reflected the light for a second before it pulled back, leaving only a small trickle of blood. He resumed his story, only now he was getting a little too enthusiastic. I was worried but I dared not move.

“Over the next few months I killed 12 people, they were all garbage, their lives were almost worthless. Together with the first man I judged their value approached that which had been taken from me.

The first five were gang members, they were harassing a woman, I couldn’t watch after what happened to Lynn. The first one didn’t know what hit him, I tackled him to the ground before stomping on his head. The second was too scared to move, I crushed his windpipe with my bare hand. The third and fourth pulled out guns. I broke the first one’s arm and shoved a blade all the way through his chest. The other one shot me twice before I backhanded him hard enough to break his neck. The last one tried to run but I ran him down and stabbed him in the back of the skull. I suspect this woman is the one who hired you, last I checked she was in mental institution. I’m glad to hear she’s out but I don’t think seeing me would be good for her.

The next two were scumbags hanging out near a public park. I sliced one of their arms off with a blade protruding from my forearm, and blood covered everything, the other one ran but I caught him and tore his throat out.

The next one was a guy stealing to feed his drug habit, I grabbed him by the leg and threw him against a tree so hard he never got up.

The next two were robbing a house, I waited outside, and when the first one came out I sliced his stomach open. The second one saw me from the upstairs window and tried to go out the back door, I let him get a head start then I ran him down. When I caught him he offered me the sack of stolen jewelry he was carrying, I swatted it out of his hand and drove a metal spike through the bottom of his jaw.

My personal favorite was the cashier at the drugstore, slipping cash from the register. He pulled a shotgun on me, I grabbed it by the barrel and pulled it from his hands. Then I hit him on the side of the head so hard I was sure it was going to come off.

But then came the last one, this was the one that changed everything. A wife cheating on her husband. I walked in the front door and up the stairs as quietly as possible. Then all at once I kicked the bedroom door off its hinges and went inside. I threw the man out the window, he landed on a fire hydrant at a skewed angle and didn’t move. I turned to the woman who was trying to get up and run. I lifted her up by her arm and bit her throat out.”

I was horrified, perhaps he wasn’t as stable as I had let myself believe. But he didn’t kill me when I first arrived, why should he kill me now. I scooted away slightly, wishing I still had my rifle just in case.

“That last one I regret, because I showed up on the news a few days later. Apparently the husband had set up a camera because he suspected his wife was cheating. It caught everything. What’s worse, he was interviewed and he was in tears over her death. She was a liar and an adulterer her life was nearly worthless, she deserved to die, didn’t she. This question haunted me, was my judgement of the value of her life wrong? But there was no time to think. The man she was cheating with was an important politician. The police could no longer allow me to be loose on the streets. Every police officer in the area was out to get me. I had two options. I could go out in a blaze of glory, probably taking hundreds or even thousands of lives with me, or I could run. I would be hunted, but maybe there was a chance I could start over. If I could just make it to a less populated area.

I had to make a run for it. A few police officers tried to apprehend me but it was no use. I killed the first one by simply goring him with my horns. As the second one pulled out his gun I leapt at him, placed the palm of my hand on his face and slammed him into the ground so hard the pavement cracked. I shouldn’t have killed them, their lives still had value, but not as much as mine. Further down the road I could see my way out, the street was a dead end and beyond it was a thick patch of woods. Even if they followed me there was no way they could catch me, I was too fast for them to pursue on foot.”

This felt like the end of his story, and yet he went on. I don’t think I could listen to him describe killing more people. As it was the blood on his face made me want to throw up.

“As I stepped into the forest the sun was just going down, the air in the forest was fresh and cool compared to the city’s scent of car exhaust. I walked for at least an hour before I felt I had gone far enough, then I sat down and prepared to sleep.

Unfortunately sleep eluded me, at first I thought it was guilt, or anxiety. But I felt the urge to wander, I felt unsafe, like they were still following me. I would be able to hear long before a search party approached, although I doubted they would send one tonight. But I certainly sensed a presence, watching me. I kept wandering around, then I saw it.

It was a human figure, wearing a black suit, his back was turned but his skin was pale white. He stood about a foot taller than me, which didn’t disturb me until I remembered I was already a foot taller than any human. I called out to him but there was no response, I looked away for a second and when I looked back he was standing right in front of me. At this range I realized he was not just a foot taller than me, he seemed to tower over me. He bent down, as he did so I realized that his face was just smooth flesh. Someone in your line of work has almost certainly heard of this creature before. I’ll bet you didn’t think he existed, well I didn’t either.”

I had no idea how to react to this turn in his story. Was it all lies? Had this all been a joke? Surely, he couldn’t simulate the kind of emotions he had showed when he told of Lynn’s death. I had to assume he was telling the truth. If only to assure myself that he would keep true to his decision to let me live.

“Was this my fate, to be killed by Slenderman after accomplishing so much, surely he could see that I was special. But I thought to myself Slenderman doesn’t just show up. How long has he been watching me? Was he watching me while I was still human or did I attract him with my use of magic? I backed away slowly but he didn’t seem to become further away, in fact he seemed to fill more of my vision with every step. He reached into his pocket and produced a tattered letter. He gave it to me… No, he was merely showing it to me. It read:

To whom it may concern

It has come to my attention that you are no longer human. Congratulations, on being the latest to transcend the limits of humanity. It is truly an accomplishment that few even dare to dream of and fewer still manage to achieve. I hope that I get the chance to meet you someday, however before that happens you must discover yourself. You have plenty of time to do what you will, find out what drives you, and pursue that, refine it, make a name for yourself, or don’t. I will warn you however that killing too many humans is a good way to get yourself killed as well. Someday you may feel that your course has been run, on that day come seek me out, and I will bring you into my domain as a brother.

The letter had no signature.

When I had read the letter, Slenderman disappeared, and I finally was able to lie down and sleep.”

He paused, leaned back and chuckled a little bit to himself.

“I have done a lot of thinking since that day. Initially I thought the Slenderman wrote the letter. But if that was true he would have given it to me. Clearly he was passing on a message he had received a long time ago. Perhaps he was once human, and strove for greatness, as I had. I won’t speculate about how long he has been on this earth, although it should be noted that the letter was written in modern english. I suspect that he is preparing to take up the letter’s invitation. Maybe not in the immediate future, but soon. He has become too widely known in recent years, as I am sure you are aware. Don’t mistake what I am saying as me setting myself up as as a successor to him. Not only does that not appeal to me, I don’t think that is how this works. I am sure that in his time on this earth he has probably showed that letter to a good number of people, or things that were once people. Each will find their place on this planet, some may become fixated on by the public and become urban legends, others may choose isolation and carry on outside the minds of humanity.

I personally think I found my place in the world after Lynn’s death, when I killed that first man. Since the last incident I have found a solution to my last problem. You see this eye? I made it from Lynn’s gold cross and a few key ingredients. With it there is no guesswork in my valuing of a life.”

I thought back to when he had first looked me over, feeling that eye pass over me. How he knew my name. Suddenly I felt slightly more comfortable, perhaps he wasn’t as unpredictable as I thought. As long as he had a method I could feel comfortable that he would not change his mind.

“Slowly I vanished from the minds of the public, a movie studio took credit for me as a publicity stunt. The video of me killing that man’s wife was dismissed as a hoax. Most people who still remembered I had actually existed assumed I was gone. Now I am truly outside humanity. Using the value of Lynn’s soul as a measure I can see fairly who deserves to live and who must be snuffed out. If I come for you, there is no bargaining, I can see your entire life past and future, and my judgement is absolute.”

That was where his tale ended. I lingered for a while until I felt safe leaving and then I went home. I will leave you with some advice he gave me. There are only a few ways to avoid him other than being lucky enough to be overlooked. First, live a life that contributes to society, then he will look you over and let you go. In today’s world that might be a taller order than you would expect, but it can’t hurt to try. Second, surround yourself in friends and family who care about you. Ordinarily he will simply find subtle ways of comforting your loved ones after you have passed. However if your death would cause too much grief among the innocent he will spare you, I suspect that was what saved me. He did warn me that sometimes he will attempt to weaken those bonds, so hope that your family are not easily swayed. Third, you can become like him. If you are ambitious enough to break loose of the chains of humanity he will not kill you. Just as Slenderman didn’t attempt to kill him.

This may sound odd but I wish him luck, perhaps someday he will decide to make a return, and maybe this time we will accept him. In the meantime my family and I have nothing to fear…

Credit To: Shogunfish

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Rating: 8.1/10 (287 votes cast)
The Hunter, 8.1 out of 10 based on 287 ratings
  • Freaky Fred

    Man, FUCK guys on park benches. Imma kill all them, bein all lounging around and shit, those assholes…

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    Rating: +22 (from 26 votes)
    • Cbolt

      Loved the slenderman part

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      Rating: +4 (from 6 votes)
      • TheYellow

        Me too.

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        Rating: 0 (from 2 votes)
      • Haunted

        Must become an entity. It’s the only way to escape the Slenderman. My protection spell is losing its affect.

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        Rating: +1 (from 3 votes)
  • Dark Werewolf

    This is by far one of the best creepypastas i have read so far. I hope you make some more stories about this new creature. And if there already are others please tell me where i can find them. Thanks.

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    Rating: +11 (from 13 votes)
    • Anonymous

      I agree

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      Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • Skye

    omnomnom :3

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    Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)
  • TVATR

    WOW. Shogunfish, you’re creepypasta was really good…as expected.

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    Rating: +1 (from 3 votes)
  • reader

    That was astounding!

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    Rating: +2 (from 4 votes)
  • Alice

    Really well written! Very creative! How did you even come up with this?! A few grammar mistakes, but it didn’t take too much away from the story. And it’s understandable to have a few for that long of a tale xD Also, a little cheesey with the connection of the Shark-man and Slenderman, but again, that is very understandable. I don’t think i could have done it much better anyways xD Overall, job well done! Please, continue to write! I love the yummy pastas like these!

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    Rating: +2 (from 6 votes)
  • https://www.facebook.com/betonunesneto Alberto N.

    Look, the story was very promising in the beginning, but I’m really sorry to say that this is the only pasta so far that I haven’t been able to read to the end… very confusing story, cliché phrases; horrible grammar, punctuation and sentence division, etc. Could do with a lot more work, seems very amature to me…

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    Rating: -13 (from 25 votes)
    • Blood Wolf

      Ha, you talk about grammar mistakes, but you can’t even spell amateur correctly..

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      Rating: +7 (from 9 votes)
  • Shogunfish

    Wow, glad to see such a positive response, this is my first attempt at creepypasta so this is a really great feeling.

    @darkwerewolf there are no other pastas about this creature currently, I might begin work on one but I want to do an unrelated one or two first so I am not just "that guy who writes the shark stories"

    @alice, yes the slenderman connection was cheesy, that is what happens when you don’t get anyone to peer edit. It’s hard to look at the big picture on your own writing.

    @alberto N, I wish you would give examples, this is my first pasta so amateurish is not entirely unexpected but I would glad to listen to actual advice.

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    Rating: +8 (from 10 votes)
    • Anonymous

      For starters – learn the difference between IT’S and ITS.

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      Rating: -6 (from 8 votes)
      • Shogunfish

        Fuck you’re right… I know the difference but apparently I just decided to fuck it up anyway… So now that I have acknowledged the important-but-somewhat-superficial grammar mistake, anything a little more meaningful?

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        Rating: +10 (from 10 votes)
        • Freaky Fred

          Also, sharks really don’t have heads compatible with human bodies…instead of that making it scarier, it made me chuckle every time I tried to imagine the creature. I like that it was original, but it didn’t really make sense physiologically.

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          Rating: +7 (from 11 votes)
        • Jhe

          http://osocio.org/images/uploads/sharkblack_e_thumb.jpg

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          Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
    • Isaac Clarke

      oh great writer Shogunfish what shall we call this new great shark-headed beast?

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      Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
      • Isaac Clarke

        also does this story mean that slendy is a messenger? thats way he follows you! he just has a message for you
        Slender Post Office Express

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        Rating: +2 (from 4 votes)
  • YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE USERNAME!

    Hey shotgunfish, great woryk. :3

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    Rating: -3 (from 11 votes)
  • Len Lye

    After several weeks away from this site, I am happy to see it’s still in good hands. And I’m most especially happy to catch Shogunfish’s first work. I truly am, as this was a wonderful read.

    I admit, I didn’t expect much after the opening paragraph. I’m not a fan of, "Hi, my name is (this), and I do (this), and (this) is what happened while I was doing (this)." It’s unoriginal and quite frankly tedious; luckily the bounty hunter bit kept me reading, but I was again discouraged when you mentioned Slenderman (isn’t that breaking one of your rules for Slenderman?).

    Of course it took a very positive turn from there. His conveniently unnamed source conveniently tracks this shark/person thingy (somehow… when in doubt don’t use detail) to a conveniently abandoned stretch of beach the government conveniently can’t fork over the funds to renovate. Abandoned lighthouse? Truly as a professional bounty hunter one must charge through the front door and wave your flashlight around and not be ready to fire your gun! In the light of realism, this would be disastrous… but we’re talking about a shark/person here so luckily realism is secondary to random convenience and plot holes that somehow compliment the story rather than maim it.

    Another thing I’m not a fan of is a character narrating a long and tedious flashback with the intent of "woe is me." Again it’s not original, and it disappointingly takes up half the story. It’s not character development, it’s a monologue, and a very strange one. I’m expected to feel pity for the shark even though he was really just a deranged vigilante who took orphan hood in a very weird direction. Sure I could understand him feeling outcasted as a kid but you’d think he’d get over it as a twenty year old instead of making a shark body! Again, I’m just taking this too literally because this works in the context of fantasy fiction, but once again, exposition in the form of a monologue is in my opinion a cop out, but this story I suppose is too bizarre to be told any other way.

    And… Slenderman. The last thing I’d expect from anything near this story. I do like the concept that Slenderman is merely an agent to recruit ther outcasts to his mysterious trade by a higher deity, but you just went too in depth with it. Too literal, maybe. Following your "rules" for writing about Slenderman, you shouldn’t have mentioned him by name. It would have been better if he was left as a "mysterious figure in a suit" who drops off the letter. That way some could think it’s Slenderman, other could think it was the guy at the end of Back to the Future II; it’s the magic of ambiguity!

    Finally the "moral" at the end was puzzling to me. This WHOLE debacle with a bounty hunter, a shark/person, and Slenderman, was ALL for the sake of preaching to us to live good lives and have friends and family. Something about that to me just seems… out of place.

    I know everything I said above was complaints, but trust me, I enjoyed the story thoroughly. And I believe it’s because of its originality (despite being surrounded by unoriginal writing techniques). I mean… bounty hunter who hunts for a shark/person the listens to how he met Slenderman. Speaking from the mentality of my younger self, that’s pretty badass. I’m glad to see Creepypasta is back on its feet, and I look forward to your next story.

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    • shogunfish

      Yes this did break my Slenderman rules but you have to know that I submitted this months ago, before I had come up with those rules.

      I will admit the monologue format was a little bit of lazy writing on my part. The problem is that when I wrote from normal first person it felt awkward and jumpy. I don’t really know how to resolve that problem without doing a style like this. If you have any advice on that it would be super helpful.

      As for your other complaints, you are correct. In fact when the whole submissions disaster happened on the site I prepared a list of changes to make in case Derpbutt had to dump the submissions backlog for some reason and I could resubmit. Some which you touched on were:

      1) Change the childhood backstory to one that didn’t seem like he wanted pity, I needed him to have twisted morality which would set his entire life into motion but the childhood thing caused the entire story to come across as him complaining about how his life sucks. I considered a lab accident, him being a lab test subject, as well as a few other scenarios. The story was supposed to come across as him telling the story of his life like a fisherman would tell a tale to his buddies, but the beginning set the tone for the entire thing and that tone was not the one I was going for.

      2) Take out the slenderman part. The slenderman part was actually part of a separate idea I had but I put it here because it seemed to work well enough and I couldn’t make it stand on its own (never a good idea, but something that happens when you are the only person doing your editing). After I read a few "slendertwilights" on crappypasta I realized that it didn’t work as well on paper as it did in my head. But I had already submitted.

      3) The last one was the ‘Moral.’ once again, it came across differently than I wanted it to. I didn’t like the idea of just another monster that stalks people at random, so I gave him a set of values to kill by, in my head it just made him more interesting. However as you said, it comes across as a moral.

      Honestly I expected this to end up as "just needs polishing" where I could hear advice like this and re-submit later, if I had suspected it would be accepted I would have submitted some edits at some point fixing a few of the weirder parts.

      Basically I think most problems stemmed from the fact that I grew too attached to the shark man. I couldn’t bear to make him mindless and bloodthirsty, I tried to give a sort of moral ambiguity. His killing feels justified to him, the reader could choose to pity him, hate him, or sort of understand him. Unfortunately that didn’t quite hit the mark. I ended up with a murderous creature seemingly asking for pity because an inebriated hobo shot his girlfriend, not my intention.

      I appreciate the feedback both positive and negative, I would change it if I could but correct me if I’m wrong once a pasta is here it’s the final version.

      I may come back to this character again, but not for a few pastas, and if I do it will not be him telling his story, it will be a more standard pasta format, from the point of view of a victim or someone close to a victim.

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      • http://www.creepypasta.com derpbutt

        If you rewrite/edit, you can just reply to the acceptance email with the new version. People edit their published pastas all the time =)

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      • Len Lye

        In the case if you do edit your pasta, I would recommend doing all the changes you mentioned, take out the backstory, take out Slenderman, and just make it about this bounty hunter becoming the hunted against this shark/person’s twisted game of morality and whatnot. Makes for a more interesting read.

        Also in the case of exposition, I follow the philosophy of "less is more." What I would have done is while running from the shark, the bounty hunter would stumble across his lair and examine it, seeing hints of his former life. Never mention anything explicitly. Have the bounty hunter find a picture of the shark’s human form with his girlfriend, or maybe like a science PhD (to hint it was a lab accident or something). Just these subtle scraps of his former life that makes the reader empathize with the monster (or hate it) rather than the shark telling them to ("Feel bad for me!").

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  • shogunfish

    Ok so I definitely want to do some fixing on this story, but I just want to ask, what would be the correct way to go about it?

    What I am looking at right now is:
    1) fix the things I mentioned about this story, to make it a little closer to what I intended.
    and
    2) write a story that is actually a story. I did a lot of editing, but the monologue format was too ingrained for me to see how to replace it. I want to do what Len suggested about "Show don’t tell" I won’t do this one for quite some time because I have other unrelated pastas I am working on right now.

    I know I sound like kind of a perfectionist here, wanting to completely rewrite a pasta with a decent rating and positive feedback, but I really feel like it could have been a lot better in a true story format. Does what I outlined seem like the right approach?

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    • Len Lye

      You have my blessing to approach. Take in mind neither me nor 99% of pasta users are professional writers in any sense of the word. Most of us are nerds and "Creative Writing" majors who like to kill time. So basically, your guess is as good as ours. You have our suggestions, now follow your gut.

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    • Len Lye

      You have my blessing to commence. You shouldn’t rely TOO much on our opinion. Take in mind most of us here are nerds, bloggers, and creative writing majors who have too much time on our hands. You have our opinions, now go with your gut.

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      • Anonymous

        Len. CHILL.

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  • Hanis

    You should’ve let the shark guy to be oblivious to the fact that he was talking to a creature known as ‘Slenderman’.
    I’m pretty sure most people here, if not all, would have Slenderman on their heads just by simply writing ‘mysterious tall guy in black suit’ or like the one you have wrote above.

    Awesome pasta!

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  • anonnn

    STREET SHARKS! JAWSOME!

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  • Daulton

    Nooo, leave in the Slenderman part. The cool part about the Slenderman mythos is that your not quite sure what he is. This is what allows him to be expanded upon by people like you. His story grows when people like you include him in stories and make him grow. Good stories have a way of permanantly including your information in your story into the overall Slenderman mythos, and I think you did that exellently. I would be truly saddened if you completly left ole slendy out.

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  • Stheno

    Haha,very well written,but through the whole thing I had the feeling you are 13 years old,or that it’s written for 13 years olds.It was fun tho.

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  • Jahdei

    Normally, any story that mentions slenderman immidiately loses my respect and doesn’t typically gain it back. Not because I don’t like slenderman, but because he’s so overused, and it’s annoying (I actually really like slenderman).

    Having said that, yours is the ONLY story so far that has mentioned slenderman that I actually want to keep slenderman in. His mention is brief, doesn’t control the story, and slenderman’s own story isn’t significantly altered by this one. He is simply a “building character”, for lack of better term I can’t remember right now. Any other character could’ve taken his place, and had the same effect and significance in the story. I’m intrigued by the effect he had, and would like to see it built upon. If you insist on removing slenderman, just put a different character in his place *shrug*. I, personally, am curious about where that note was going.

    I do agree with Len Lye’s constructive criticism. I’ve never personally been a fan of first person writing, and have never used it to write any of my own stories. I feel like it is just too limited at times. Building on Len’s suggestion of taking out the monologue, I reccommend you try writing the perspective from a third person/omniscient perspective. You may find that it removes many complications with explaining the story without the monologue.

    As far as the story itself, I don’t see the need to change it that drastically. I like the story. I could do without the monologuing…and maybe a little less “pity me” in the child-story. Or, remove the girlfriend story and make him find the cross in some other way. But, personally, I’d rather see the girlfriend-story stay than the child-story.

    Maybe just make him grow up not liking humanity in general, and just feeling out of place, not neccessarily being shunned/disliked/trying to fit in. Meets this girl who loves him after he “transformed”, starts out tolerating her because she won’t go away, eventually she grows on him (like your spouse’s cat that you always hated). Some drunkard kills her, sharkmanthing’s final straw snaps, goes into fit of rage at humanity being dispicable and killing things that don’t deserve it, and he starts killing them. BAM. Story remade, less pity (or none, if you write it correctly). He takes the cross from a church because it reminded him of her strict morals, which taught him humanity could “rise to the occasion” (Something about him thinking what a generous person she was, blah blah blah). Turns out it has some magical power to judge the “worth” of human souls; he starts killing those who truly don’t deserve to live. And there you go, your story now has much less “pity me” and much more “holier than thou” feel to it (once you’ve added description, of course). If you do use something like that, though, might want to replace the cross with some other object, to avoid the risk of sounding like he’s doing “god’s work” (unless that’s exactly what you wanted…in which case, go for it).

    I know there was a lot left out of that short example of a differed story line. That’s because it’s just a short example of some random changes thrown together that could be done. That example is meant to be more of a “I’m so far above humanity, why would I ever want to be a part of it? *laugh at the tiny people from my high pedestal*” kind of example of a story line. I realize it would need more description to give that feel, which is why I mentioned that.

    I like that your story line explained things. I find vague story lines annoying, as they tend to leave far too much to the imagination. A little to the imagination is good, but all of the most important parts…that’s just annoying. I read a story because I want to know the story, not guess at it. Insert some imagination into your story, by all means, it’ll be good for it; just not the important parts, please.

    I’ll stop there, since that seemed to be the big concerns here. Let us know when/if you do re-post the story, would love to read the new concept, especially if you build upon that slender-note part. Once again, don’t care if it’s slenderman, it could be ANY other being…I’m interested in the implications of that note O_O

    Great story, especially for a first writing!

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    • Anaiis

      This!

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  • shogunfish

    Glad to see a few more comments on here with some more advice, I will probably aim to submit the edited version soon.

    I will probably write another pasta about the shark guy when I am finished with the couple others I currently have floating around in my head.

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    • NovaMaria

      i wouldnt change anything. this is what YOU came up with, and what you thought went together. i liked the story as is. i see no problem with people wanting to give other people advice on a story but to make them change it? this is your baby, leave it be !!

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  • Anonymous

    Exposition is the bane of creepiness. This story is all exposition. This story, in and of itself, just feels like a self-narrated origin story for a personal OC superhero/antihero. It might be a fine character as a creepypasta’s antagonist without all of this backstory to spoil the mystique, but this one sort of spoils that for it.

    You did have me, however, up until the seventh or eighth paragraph and subsequent change of mood. Your opening hook was engaging enough, and I had high hopes for a frightful “monsters are real” story after your lampshaded slenderman call-out. Next time you write try holding that mood that you opened this story with and see where it takes you.

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  • Derp

    Amazing pasta, possibly myfavorite pasta EVER, out of maybe a thousand of the like.

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  • the light fugure

    YUM!!!!

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  • http://deliriletterari.blogspot.com CMT

    The story started very well, then suddenly took a U-turn and became the origin story of a wacky superhero (or villain). Which might still have been good, if it had been in a Marvel comic.
    While the concept itself is interesting enough, a man who seems able to resort so easily to genetic engineering and magic as if they were ordinary things, and who for some reason believes that turning himself into a horned shark-man, of all things, will make his life better… it’s just a bit too over the top for this kind of story (again, it would really be at home in a silver-age superhero comic). Even the Slenderman bit has that “you’re invited to join the Injustice League” flavour to it.

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  • Bearfang

    I think you should keep the backstory it gives it something more then just a creepypasta

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  • Sierra

    “I was beginning to wonder just where this story found its conclusion.”
    Amen.

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  • http://none xchenya

    Really good read. Thank you for caring about all the people with no morals its a nice change of pace when we try to care about others. Your story has truth even if you are unaware. The transcending is true just check out drunvalo. Or bob frissell ” nothing in this book is true,but its exactly how things are”. You’ll be surprised how much of your story is actually true. Thanks again.

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  • Kazuya Shibuya

    As soon as I read the first part, I stopped reading. That is not how a pasta should start.

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