Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction

Creepypasta

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Rating: 8.9/10 (475 votes cast)

It was a few weeks ago that the hay bales started creeping slowly away from the house. Every morning when I woke up, each had moved a few hundred feet from where it was before. I assumed it was pranksters with nothing better to do, and I so I ignored it. Within a few days, though, the bales began to approach the boundaries of the farm. I was tired of the whole game by then, and decided to move them back. It took a tedious hour to bring them all from where they were to over near the house again, and by the time I was done I was ready to snap the neck of whatever little pissant was deciding to screw with me.

The next morning, I found each and every one of my horses messily decapitated. The smell was what woke me up. Each one was slumped over against the side of its stall. There were no signs of the heads. I spent the rest of the day cleaning up the mess and burying the remains. It was only when I was done that I noticed the bales of hay had all returned to their positions from the day before, scattered far out into the fields. This time I left them where they were.

That night I sat on my porch with my shotgun in hand and a pot of coffee on the table beside me. I sat for hours, straining my eyes into the fields to catch a glimpse of who was moving my hay bales. Finally, I was beginning to nod off. I would have, but just as my eyes began to close I heard a clamor and a rustling of trees from the nearby woods. I leaned forward, my heart racing with excitement; I was going to catch the bastard. I fumbled with my gun and fidgeted in my seat, waiting anxiously for whoever it was to get close enough to ambush. It was only when the thing got close enough for me to make out its silhouette in the dark that I was frozen still. The thing that crept into my fields from the nearby woods didn’t seem to notice me sitting there. It stalked, hunched and deliberate, through the field with the posture of a tiptoeing thief. If not for the fact that it must have towered to over ten feet tall even in its crouched position, it might have seemed almost frail. The thinness of its arms and legs and the emaciated, caved-in quality of its chest reminded me of a starving animal. Still, this thing was undeniably strong, and I watched it hoist each bale up into its arms with ease, and set it down carefully a while away, taking only a few strides to cover the distance. I watched it work, moving each bale thoughtfully. Every once in a while it would straighten up to look around at the other bales’ positions in the field, before adjusting the one it was working on ever so slightly.

Before it left, it looked towards the house. I felt its eyes sweep over me in the dark, but whether it saw me or not I couldn’t tell. Then, it turned silently and crept back the way it came, disappearing into the dark of the woods. It took me an hour before I had the courage to move at all. I went inside after a while, but didn’t sleep that night. It was only when the sun rose that I dared step off my porch into the fields. The hay bales were where it left them. Strangely, it didn’t move them as far as it had in the previous days. They were approaching something invisible in the fields, and as I looked at them I realized that they seemed to be marking some line. Indeed, as I walked around the house, I saw the distinct circle that they formed with me at the center. At first I thought the bales were just being haphazardly moved away from the house, but now I could see that they were instead being moved towards some boundary. The thing was sending me a message. I slept uneasily that night, and only because I was exhausted.

The next morning the bales hadn’t moved at all. They didn’t move at all for the rest of that week, in fact. They were finally where the thing wanted them. I made myself sick trying to interpret them. Why would this thing expend so much energy moving my hay bales, and threaten me with such violence should I try to interfere? Killing my horses was just that – a threat. An intelligent threat, at that. It knew what would scare me, and it knew that I would understand the implications.

The sound of an automobile working its way along the road to my farm one morning gave me a little rush of excitement. I’d been planning to abandon the farm since I saw the thing, but I couldn’t hope to leave on foot without risking it treating me like it treated my horses. But, if I could get in the car with whoever was coming my way, I might be able to escape before it could stop me. I didn’t know or care who it was. I decided that the moment they stopped the car, I would jump in the passenger’s seat and tell them to get the hell out of here. I didn’t get the chance.

The car worked its way slowly along the road, trundling across the uneven ground. I urged it silently to hurry. It was when it passed between the two bales placed on either side of the road that I began to hear a booming clatter from the woods. The thing burst suddenly from between the trees, sprinting on all four of its terrible, gangly limbs towards the car. Within a few seconds it was there, pouncing on the automobile like a predatory cat. Within moments it was picking and peeling the vehicle’s steel frame apart, working to get at the driver. The man, whoever he was, screamed all the while and I could hear him even over the crunching of metal and the shattering of glass. It was only when the thing crushed him carelessly in its hand that the screaming stopped. It tossed him away, and straightened up to look at me once again. In the sunlight, I could see the inhumanity of it. It was composed entirely of something awful and alive which was lashed together in a messy semblance of a human form. Whatever it was made of looked so polished and hard, that if it weren’t for the minute writhing of the stuff, I’d think it was made of granite.

The thing retreated back into the woods, and I was left to my shock. My eyes wandered to where the car sat, the engine still sputtering, between two of the hay bales. Suddenly, I understood. The message was clear. I am this thing’s captive, and I am not allowed visitors. Nothing may cross the borders it has set. I’m trapped here, by the thing that stalks the fields, and it demands nothing except that I never leave. Still, I don’t know if I can handle being that thing’s canary. I’ve been thinking hard for the last few days since I saw it crush that man’s chest, and silence him before he could finish his scream. If I crossed the hay bale border, it’d probably do the same. It’d smash my skull before I could put my hands up to protect myself. It’d go and find a new pet, and probably keep looking until it found someone who could stand knowing that it was waiting just outside, watching it at all hours with its shiny, insect eyes.

I’ve been thinking hard for the last few days, and I might just make a run for it.

Credited to David Feuling at http://www.ss-comic.com/fiction.html

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Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.9/10 (475 votes cast)
The Thing That Stalks The Fields, 8.9 out of 10 based on 475 ratings
  • Anonymous

    1ST YES! WOOOOOO!

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    Rating: -75 (from 89 votes)
  • Man Book

    First!

    BUT WHO WAS THING?

    etc. etc.

    Not bad, though I generally don’t like creature pastas.

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    Rating: -64 (from 72 votes)
  • anon

    FIRST PHONE

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    Rating: -54 (from 60 votes)
    • Anonymous

      What’s this mean?

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      Rating: -2 (from 8 votes)
  • Samhain

    I think this may be my new favorite….
    I loved it.

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    Rating: +29 (from 33 votes)
  • so basically raep?

    Good story, but the climax/ending came a little too fast, and how the protagonist figured out the motives of the creature is fuzzy.

    7/10

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    Rating: +12 (from 34 votes)
    • Revanth

      Nah, it’s pretty easy to determine the creature’s motive. I mean, it stopped moving the bales of hay when they were arranged in a circle around his house, when he tried to move them himself, the creature killed his horses as warning. This theory is proven further with the fact that the creature killed the person in the car.

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      Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)
  • http://creepypasta.com Someone is here now

    My god finally, a great pasta

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    Rating: +19 (from 25 votes)
    • derp

      id have to agree.

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      Rating: +7 (from 7 votes)
  • http://channelislandsghosttrackers.com Deathbecomesme

    very good pasta…loved the twist at the end….

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    Rating: +9 (from 11 votes)
    • Anonymous

      That thing is pretty interesting i wonder if I can study it. Bet it’s going to be pretty hard to catch though. This sounds like fun.

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      Rating: -6 (from 6 votes)
  • Violent Harvest

    Nice.

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    Rating: +6 (from 8 votes)
  • Comment Leaver

    Very good. The ending was good, but they always get rushed.

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    Rating: +10 (from 10 votes)
  • Dusk

    THEN WHO WAS MAN IN CAR?

    He got screwed up pretty bad

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    Rating: +22 (from 34 votes)
    • derp

      eeeeeyup

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      Rating: -3 (from 7 votes)
      • http://creepypasta anonanon

        what if the dude in the car was his dad or boyfriend or brother and he just died or maybe the guys psychotic but we’ll never know

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        Rating: -2 (from 6 votes)
  • Mary Hatchet

    Om nom nom nom!

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    Rating: -4 (from 12 votes)
  • Eevee

    Deliciously boring, I’d call it.
    6/10

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    Rating: -11 (from 31 votes)
  • Mmmm

    True fact; you can’t wake up from smelling something.

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    Rating: -6 (from 36 votes)
    • http://seantryke.web44.net FlutterDa5h

      My fav creepypasta

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      Rating: 0 (from 2 votes)
    • Jego

      Ever heard of smelling salts?

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      Rating: +2 (from 2 votes)
  • lol

    TAAAANK!!

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    Rating: +9 (from 11 votes)
    • http://creepypasta.com Cece

      OMFG LEFT 4 DEAD I THOUGHT OF THE SAME THING I PICTURE IT AS A TANK OMG

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      Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Tram

    …What?? I don’t get the “twist” at the end. It had so much potential with the beautiful imagery and skilled detailing, but then it just picked me up by the shirt collar, and tossed me into a river. It was like the author all of a sudden remembered he needed to knit his mom a sweater and made up a quick ending to get it done and over with. A pasta like this deserves a more decent ending.

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    Rating: +31 (from 35 votes)
    • Jhe

      The twist is that he let himself be killed by the thing. Which means that “it” is now wondering around, looking for his next “canary”.

      Your comment made me LOL so hard though :D

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      Rating: +5 (from 11 votes)
      • Anon

        Are you that terrible at comprehension? He didn’t die. He said if he tries to go out it’d kill him.

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        Rating: -11 (from 17 votes)
        • luis

          it does not say he dies yes, but the author implies that he tries to escape at the end.”I’ve been thinking hard for the last few days, and I might just make a run for it.”

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          Rating: +2 (from 4 votes)
        • UnforseenEvent

          Read the last sentence.

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          Rating: -2 (from 2 votes)
        • Dumbass…

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          Rating: -1 (from 1 vote)
    • CallMeAdmiral

      True, it does deserve a better ending but its definitely on the top of my list! I love the “twist” and the fact its not some bull crap, unbelievable story. And to leave the farm: TANK. Excellent.
      #360noscopes11thprestige

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      Rating: +4 (from 6 votes)
    • PastaSauce

      I was captivated by the moving hay bales, I kept reading, was interested when the horses were killed as a message to stop messing with the bales. Loved it when it was discovered that the bales were a boundry the narrator was not to cross. Then i was badly disappointed by the end. The creatures motivations are unclear and that is something i need in a story like this cause the idea of keeping him trapped in that hay bale boundry is so out there and interesting I as a reader need a reason for it.

      Was he just keeping him penned as cattle and saving him for a later slaughtering and eating? was he really a canary being kept as a pet?

      This is a great example of a good story with a bad and too sudden ending

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      Rating: 0 (from 2 votes)
  • http://dirjel.deviantart.com Dirjel

    Hmmmmmm.

    This pasta entertained me very well, and I feel I should leave a comment.

    …I’m just not entirely certain WHAT I should say about it, though >.>

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    Rating: +4 (from 16 votes)
  • Kelly Ann

    @Mmmm Not a true fact; In the summer my dad and I leave our windows open to let in fresh at night while we sleep, and one night a skunk sprayed right beneath his window, so the smell came in. It was so bad, it woke him up and he choked and gagged until it left.

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    Rating: +10 (from 10 votes)
  • Anon

    True fact; you can indeed wake up from smelling something.

    http://www.bbcfocusmagazine.com/qa/can-smell-wake-you

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    Rating: +12 (from 12 votes)
  • Heywood Jablome

    Great pasta, but what kind of stupid asshole lives alone on a farm with no car and no phone?

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    Rating: +11 (from 15 votes)
    • Anonymous

      he wasn’t alone, he had horses… Oh wait.

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      Rating: +4 (from 4 votes)
      • http://creepypasta.com inrgii

        “Had”

        You were actually right the first time.

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        Rating: -3 (from 3 votes)
      • http://creepypasta anonanon

        sounds like hes from the great land of cornwall

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        Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Awesome-O

    @Mmmm: It’s totally possible to wake up from a smell. Also, true fact is redundent.

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    Rating: +5 (from 5 votes)
  • japsa

    I like.

    Wish there were moar.

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    Rating: +2 (from 4 votes)
  • perixe

    um, I took it as as the thing was protecting the farmer

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    Rating: +5 (from 9 votes)
    • Jhe

      …from what?

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      Rating: +6 (from 6 votes)
      • UnforseenEvent

        Maybe it’s all one big twist, and the outside world is a giant rouse, surrounding this one man that is really just the breeding ground for a meal of epic proportions, and the man in the truck was the one sent to check on the first hatched egg. So, the thing was himself, or his mind, stopping them from turning him into such. What?

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        Rating: 0 (from 2 votes)
      • LadyPhantomhive

        Maybe there’s something even worse in those woods.

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        Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Shelleh

    This one was actually rather good, but it would have been better if the thing had killed someone else before he knew what it was trying to kill him, and it would have been better if the thing had a better description of it

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    Rating: -3 (from 3 votes)
    • Captain Stubbs

      Well, sometimes it’s good to leave a creature up for a persons imagination sometimes. I mean if you explain something to much it can take away from the scary (this is depending on the situation of course) in the end our imagination can make things a lot more scary than someone just telling us what’s what.

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  • Anonymous

    true fact: yes, you can wake up from smelling something.

    retard who listens and abheres to all “scientific facts”

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    Rating: 0 (from 4 votes)
  • Anonywut

    Not even smelling salts?

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    Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)

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