Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction

Creepypasta

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Rating: 8.4/10 (132 votes cast)

God, I need to get this down. I need this knowledge out of my head.

I’m being, what’s the word to use? Haunted? By a being. A horrid aberration. I can only call it pale face.

I remember the first time I saw it. I was twelve, taking a leak at the urinal of the hotel I was staying at with family. I noticed a flash of movement in the corner of my eye, though I dismissed it as nothing as it had been happening a lot lately. I went to wash my hands, and as I was about to turn on the tap, I saw it. Stood not more than a foot behind me, reflected in the mirror.

A humanoid creature, roughly five and a half feet tall, completely naked, covered in oily skin. Its fingers were elongated, impossibly bony. The whole thing looked as if it had never eaten; its chest was a harsh relief of ribs, made to look all the sicklier by the fluorescent light. It wasn’t breathing, either.

That is not what scared me though. Its face. A perfectly smooth oval shape, seemingly much too large and heavy for its scrawny neck, with two impossibly deep holes of blackness where one would expect to find eyes. It stared at me. It didn’t move; no single muscle twitched. It simply stood there, those jet pits boring into me for what felt like hours.

After what felt like an eternity, I realised my legs had unlocked and I bolted for the door too terrified to scream. I ignored my room, running in a child-like panic to my parent’s room a few doors down. I brought my fist down again and again on the door, desperate to raise my family. As I finally heard the door unlock I risked a single glance down the corridor from which I came. It was there. It stood completely still, eyes fixed on me, oily feet staining a brown smudge onto the carpet. I barged past my father as he swung the door inwards, diving onto the sofa and throwing myself face down onto the cushion. My father turned from the door, asking me what I was doing as he let the door close behind him. I could only respond with wide-eyed terror as I saw it in the doorway, both of those pit-like eyes on me until the door obstructed it from my vision.

Rest did not find me that night. After an hour or two of restless tossing and turning, I awoke to see it stood at the foot of the sofa. I stared back at it, too afraid to look away; its gaze was almost mesmerising, it made me feel empty, completely devoid of humanity, nothing but a consciousness stripped bare. I know not how long I kept this, as at some point my body had given up and lapsed back into sleep, and I was greeted by the warm sunlight of morning streaming through the room’s blinds.

I was not sad to be leaving the hotel that morning.

However, the pale face had not finished with me. I began to see it everywhere I went, each time preceded by catching a glimpse of some formless shape at the very edge of my vision. I would see it curled at the end of my bed upon waking, stood in a doorway as I walked to school, stood in my locker, stood in a group of children, Stood behind me as I brushed my teeth. Never once throughout these sightings did it’s bottomless pits leave me, emptying me, leaving me feeling less like myself with each passing day. My mental health deteriorated soon after. I would shout at it, attack it, beg and plead and cry to left alone. My girlfriend left me. She told me she couldn’t feel the boy she loved in me anymore. My friends abandoned me. They didn’t want to be seen with the freak, with his permanent wide eyes, was losing weight and pale from insomnia.

My parents tried to help me. I was sent to numerous psychologists, psychiatrists, mediums, spirit guides and any other quack who said they could cure the disease in my head. The pale face was always there, though; stood just behind the doctor’s chair, eyes never leaving me. I would lash out at it, scream at it. They each concluded I was mad. I overheard my parents one night, they were in tears. They planned to send me away to a psychiatric hospital.

I ran away from home that night.

I was filled with hate, anger, sadness. I stared hard at the loathsome creature that shared my refuge of shop doorways and pungent alleyways. I felt no fear of it anymore, only a seething, all-consuming anger; I hated it for what it had done to me, took away who I was, leaving me a hollow shell of a soul in a deteriorating body. It still stared back at me, those pits of madness in its loathsome head lapping away at the last remaining dregs of my humanity.

Last night however, I had a dream. The first I’d had in weeks. I didn’t see the pale face, I saw hundreds. An impossibly fast kaleidoscopic slideshow of different people, different places and different times; all mingled together in a blur with only one common factor – each person had their own pale face. I then had my vision pulled away and thrust into the most terrifying thing I have ever seen; I glimpsed hell itself. I saw a trail of damned souls being lead to impossibly shaped obsidian gates, each being lead by its own pale face.

It was only then, as I started awake, that I finally understood the nature of my tormentor. A pale face is a guide for the damned. It is with you always. Yours is in the room with you right now. Each time you feel yourself being watched when you are alone, that vague sense of unease in a perfectly normal environment. That is when you are feeling the pale face’s eyes on you, each time you see a blink of movement at the edges of your vision; that is your pale face.

There is one last thing, however. Should you very often see a flicker of movement in the corner of your eye, or always feel watched and scrutinised while you are alone, as I have, make peace with your family, your friends, anything and anyone you hold dear for it can mean only one thing.

You have been chosen, as I have, to become a pale face.


Credited to Obnoxious Brit.

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Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.4/10 (132 votes cast)
The Pale Face, 8.4 out of 10 based on 132 ratings
  • Anonymous

    aww now he gets to be the mind-fucker.

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    Rating: +22 (from 24 votes)
    • Angel

      I don’t get it. Is this some version of slenderman or is it something else?

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      Rating: -7 (from 7 votes)
  • Anonymous

    THEN WHO WAS EYES

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    Rating: 0 (from 28 votes)
  • Anonymous

    Nice. Well written and genuinely creepy.

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    Rating: +10 (from 12 votes)
  • bf

    it’s an oilchild, sounds like

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    Rating: +3 (from 5 votes)
  • Anonymous

    Alright, first, I want to know at what age did he have a girlfriend that’s serious and mature enough to say something like this – “She told me she couldn’t feel the boy she loved in me anymore.” I mean, really? This kid had this thing following him since age 12, then, in his crazed state, somehow got a girlfriend that was serious about being with him enough to say, “You’re not the same guy I met?” That’s just bull. She only really met one kind of guy – crazed idiot who, as this “pale face” doesn’t seem to even be doing anything but /be/ there, can’t just live his life before being damned.

    Above conclusion to paragraph = second point, by the way.

    Third, I think it’s ridiculous how, in all these types of stories where people are suffering over years and years, that no one ever thinks, “Let’s find others like us!”

    Story = long piece of fail. Pasta was too stringy, and literally saw the waiter sneeze on it as he was bringing it over. TAKE PASTA BACK ‘N’ GIVE ME ‘NOTHER!!

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    Rating: -6 (from 42 votes)
    • Shadowed Beauty

      That’s kind of mean to say but I like the last sentence. It was a little strange to hear about the girlfriend thing.

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      Rating: -1 (from 1 vote)
  • Jesus

    I WAS EYES

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    Rating: +4 (from 8 votes)
  • Mookster

    awesome pasta is awesome

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    Rating: +6 (from 8 votes)
  • http://myspace.com/darkwolf4ever Father Crow

    Oh shit. o_o
    Well… I’m gonna be paranoid.

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    Rating: +9 (from 9 votes)
    • pale face

      why is that?

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      Rating: +6 (from 8 votes)
      • REALLY!

        AH thought i seen you.

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        Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Anomalous

    Not bad, one of the best I’ve read in a while

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    Rating: -2 (from 4 votes)
  • HALP

    that was GOOD. 9/10

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    Rating: 0 (from 6 votes)
  • The Pale Apparition

    Um… I am the Pale Apparition… Have been for… Three years I think? I am pale, I am relatively skinny. NO signs of ribs showing, though, as well as the eyes-part is a bit off.
    -I just be there at night and other times unpredictable and never scare someone intentionally… And sometimes be together with those I like.
    …Guess I just have some not so good far relatives playing tricks on little boys. -_-

    Seriously though, there were a few odd things- a serious girlfriend at that age and the thing really doing nothing; Perhaps it mysteriously emitted the Fear, along with something that turned others to what it is.

    Conclusion: Average. 5/10

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    Rating: +2 (from 6 votes)
  • http://www.mybloghasadd.blogspot.com Addish

    Parts of it could have used some work and the ending was a little meh for me. But it’s still pretty good and very creepy.

    Agreeing with Anonymous about the girlfriend thing, that was somewhat wierd.

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    Rating: 0 (from 4 votes)
    • Anonymous

      Perhaps the author really was crazy and imagined it all. The girlfriend, the pale face. Who’s to say that isn’t what happened?

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      Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
      • Angel

        This was ok

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        Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • pastalover

    I see flickers of movement sometimes. T____T
    nice one.

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    Rating: 0 (from 2 votes)
  • Blinded by Tears

    FUCK IT.
    Yeah, I won’t be able to go into my bedroom anymore without going mad.

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    Rating: 0 (from 4 votes)
    • Nobody

      I feel ya. Oh shit hes in my room! wait, its just slendy. Heeyyy slendy. Sure ill go outside. Hey rake oh thts u hes talkin bout? Lol.

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      Rating: +1 (from 5 votes)
      • POWER LEVELS!!!

        u sir made me lol

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        Rating: -1 (from 3 votes)
  • Anonymous

    Made me think of no-face from spirited away.

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    Rating: +1 (from 3 votes)
  • http://thehungryreader.com Krepta

    How, paleface! Great Spirit say you in heap big danger! UGH!

    The description of the paleface itself was nicely evocative and could definitely be repurposed for future pasta, but this particular pasta was distinctly lacking in subtlety. I expected the last line to be, “BOO!”

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    Rating: -1 (from 1 vote)
  • Kat-chan

    Olol. Girlfriend at 12?

    Anyway, it was pretty good.

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • anonymous

    not suuuper creepy, but creepy enough, pretty good read.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • KillerSkaarj

    This actually creeped me out. Then when it said that I had my own pale face I said “Aww, not again!!!”

    But now I’m unfazed by it so it gets an 8/10 for creeping me out but not being able to make the creepiness linger with me for a while.

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • Anonymous

    I always hate the ones that end with the guy becoming the creature. Because why would they take the time to tell this little story?

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    Rating: 0 (from 4 votes)
  • Mog

    WHO WAS RANDOM GIRLFRIEND?

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)
  • Zomg.. pie.

    At 12, you would be surprised how many people think they have serious relationships and fall head over heals for other little people. And his advice was to keep your friends and loved ones close – may have picked up a girlfriend along they way and pretended to be normal.

    Annnnnyways.. Yeahh.. good pasta. Im going to be freaking out next time Im alone at the house at night. [darrkkk]

    o.O pie? O.o

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    Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • anonymous

    sounds to me like u have ISSUES!

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Mew?

    Pretty good story, at the end it does a good of interacting with the reader.

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Rafy

    ”the corner of my eye”

    I hate that line

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    Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)

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