Scary Paranormal Stories & Short Horror Microfiction

Creepypasta

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Rating: 7.0/10 (403 votes cast)

“15 All flesh shall perish together, and man shall turn again unto dust.” Job 34:15

People yell and run around me. Papers fly everywhere from the nurse’s charts and the doctors knock down the patients as they run to the stairwell. What’s going on? Why is everybody in such a hurry? I stumble aimlessly through the halls without a guide. I smell the cleanness of the building.
“Jason.” I hear from Lacey. She stands still amidst all the chaos as I walk towards her. The doctors and security guards are running around me.

“We need to get the hell out of here. They’re coming. Forget the patients. We need to think of ourselves. They’ll only slow us down.” A guard says to Lacey as he tries to jerk her away. I see the fear in his eyes. Damn him.
“We can’t do that.” I say.
“Shut up” The guard pushes me into the wall.
“Maury, don’t do that.” Lacey yells at the guard as she helps me up.
I don’t want her to leave. I want to be around her. Lacey grabs my arm and drags me into one of the cells. I grab her nurse’s dress and tug and shake my head. “Just stay. Stay here with me.” I say. I don’t want her to go.

“Jason, stay here and stay away from the door. You need to stay quiet while I’m away. I need to get out of here. From the open door, I see a pale person hold Maury against the wall and bite into his flesh. Blood spurts cover the walls and spray into the cell. Lacey runs and closes the door. She puts her weight into the door.

The doctors say it is all in my head, because after years of living poorly with the stress and not being accepted in the community I lived in, my mind broke down. Now I’m here, but I’m not crazy. I’m just a broken man.

Some of the dead continue to walk the halls, but they don’t know we’re in here. “Jason, listen to me, how are we getting out of here. I need you to help me.”
“I don’t know. We could just walk out into the hospital. I don’t know.” I run my hands through my hair.

Moonlight pours light into the room through the barred windows. I can’t hear anything from the outside. Silence is like the sound of doom. Nothing survives in the end. Everything dies. It was silent when my brother died.

Lacey and I walk out of the cell door. She looks both ways before stepping out. “It’s okay. You can come out.”

I walk out warily and looks around. There’s dead people everywhere, except I think they’re really dead. They’re not moving.

We walk to the exit. She’s leading me by the hand.

Moaning comes from the side corridor.I look and there is one of those things ripping into someone’s intestines. Steam comes from the dead body. It must be a fresh kill. The thing raises it’s head. It’s the security guard. A large teeth marked gash drips thick blood down his neck. In his teeth a piece of intestine hangs and he chews on it like gum.

“Jason get to the stairs.” Lacey opens the door and pushes me into the emergency lights of the stairwell.
She follows and slams the door shut behind us. I can hear the dead guard hissing behind the door. “Lacey, Are those things still human?” I ask.
“No, I don’t think so. They’re kind of like ice in water. Ice is water, but it floats instead of sinks. So in a way, those things are like us.”
“They only have the appearance of us, but they’re not us?”
“Yea, keep moving.”
She grabs my hand, but I pull away. “I’m fine. I can walk myself. I just had a breakdown. I’m not like the rest of the patients.”
“Okay, it’s fine. I just thought you’d want to hold my hand.” She looks at me.
I break the gaze and put my hand around hers. “You’re right. I do, it’s just…I don’t know.” Her thumbs rub over my knuckles.

I don’t know what exactly should be done, but I should do something. What can I do? There has to be solution here. “Let’s walk to the roof.” We can block that door and see what’s going on at the street level.”
“Good idea.” She says and we walk.
The cool night air rushes past us into the stairwell. We close the door. “I hope nothing decides to stroll up here. There isn’t anything to block the door with.”
“We’ll be fine.” She says. “Let’s go look over the edge.”

We walk over and look down at the destruction. Vehicles on fire, light poles tipped over, are all just indicators of the wasteland. Smoke rises into the air and curls into nothingness. This is the end, or is it. What’s so bad about being one of those things? If we’re the water and they’re the ice, then… I don’t know. Forget it. I can think about it later.

We sit on the edge of the sanatorium and dangle our legs. The night is cold and clouds obscure the moon. We sit next to each other. She puts her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulders.
“Other than this, how was your day?”
“Still making small talk, huh Jason?” She looks at me.
“Yea, I mean what else is there to talk about? The world’s just ended and as far as we know, we’re the only two left in an anarchist’s garden of Eden.”
“There’ll be someone pop up and try and make some order out of this mess.” She says quietly. “That’s the way things go. Like the guard, he loved being in power and now he’s dead. Someone will come to replace him as it goes.”

This is one of those times when I regret being so reserved. I wish I could tell her that she’s wrong. This destruction has led to the downfall of civilization as we know it. It probably isn’t the time to worry about politics, or society as it is now. “Forget it. How are we supposed to get down from here?”
“I don’t know. We should stay up here and just watch the fires.”
We sit for a while. I’m trying to focus on the feeling of her next to me, but it seems impossible. I don’t know what to do. I want to save her from this, but it seems that there is nothing to do.
The fires crackle and an errant scream emanates from the night from time to time. People who didn’t make it out in time. A car speeds past the sanatorium, the driver hits one of the things in the street. Like a blood stained pinwheel, the thing flips over the hood of the car and collapses in the street. It slowly gets back to its feet and shuffles aimlessly.

“Do you think we’ll make it out of this?” I ask.
She looks up at me. “I don’t think so. Eventually, those things will come up here and we’re stuck here. Maybe we should try to stay in this moment and just enjoy the last bit of each other’s company.”
I stand up. “I don’t like that. We have to try, don’t we? What’s the point of going on if we don’t try? That’s all life is originally. And the ice/zombies and us/water, you know we’re more than that, aren’t we?”
“You’re not making any sense, right now.”
“They’re us and we’re them. That’s what I’m saying. I don’t know what to do and it’s frustrating.”
She stands up and rubs my arm, “Calm down. Calm Down. You don’t need to have the answers to everything.”

Staring into her eyes, I think, This is all that my existence has come to? Four years of college and a nervous breakdown to die on a roof with Lacey. No white picket fence, no dog, no kids, no dreams of anything more than death’s embrace?

Banging comes from the door. Lacey and I run to it and push our bodies up against it. We struggle to keep our footing, my slippers do nothing for traction and Lacey’s slipping too in her nurse’s shoes. I grab her and pull her away from the door.
“What are you doing?” She struggles against me.
“They’re not fast, right? Let them out and then lure them to the edge of the building and push them off.”
“That’s…ahh.” One of the things bites Lacey’s arm.
I can see it ripping the flesh of her arm and tearing the sinew and muscle. It rips a large chunk from her forearm. It chews the muscle and blood pours like a faucet. Lacey falls down and a large crowd of them swarm her. They rip and tear at her flesh.

She reaches towards me. I stand there watching. There’s nothing I can do. She spits blood like a geyser. They tear into her abdomen and her intestines fall out as she struggles. One of the things grabs her hair and rips off a scalp. She screams a rabid scream of pain and then silence.

I back away from the pack slowly. I slip on the rooftop gravel and fall. I scramble up and leap forward my leg gets caught. One of those things has my foot and is trying to take a chunk out of me.

I’m hopping on one foot trying to pull my foot away when my other foot slips and half of me goes off the edge of the sanatorium. The thing is losing it’s grip on my ankle. Dangling on the side of the building you were once committed in, isn’t as glorious as it would seem. I still don’t know what to do. In the end, that’s all of us. We really don’t know what to do, the lucky ones get to follow the crowd. The ones like me get destroyed or watch the ones we love get destroyed. I guess, that’s the only guarantee, that life goes on regardless of everything else.

Credit To: Ben

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Rate This Pasta
Rating: 7.0/10 (403 votes cast)
Very Ape, 7.0 out of 10 based on 403 ratings
  • Katy E

    One of the best stories I’ve ever read!!

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    Rating: -5 (from 21 votes)
    • -.-

      You should read more.

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      Rating: +5 (from 9 votes)
  • TomSkillet

    I’m not gonna lie. That was pretty good,but was this supposed to have a morral? I don’t know it just feels like theres a lesson in all this..

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    Rating: 0 (from 6 votes)
    • Keigan slade

      Yeah the moral was that everyone will fucking die

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      Rating: +12 (from 14 votes)
  • Shogunfish

    This was well written but in terms of plot it was pretty uneventful and generic

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    Rating: 0 (from 14 votes)
  • http://www.creepypasta.com/hope/ Dirjel

    Meh.

    It was more of a “quiet reflection on humanity (during the zombie apocalypse)” piece – not really a creepypasta.

    Problem is, that kind of writing really needs to be cleaner. You can’t tell people how sad and hopeless and lonely it is to be a person and be a failure when you’re spellign and grammer is all of.

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    Rating: +5 (from 9 votes)
    • Runarrow3

      I honestly don’t get wat the big deal is with a little spelling or grammar mistakes you take a good story and tear it apart with this don’t let the little minuscule things get in the way of great story

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      Rating: 0 (from 6 votes)
      • -.-

        If a story has grammar/spelling mistakes, it’s jarring for some people.

        It pulls you out of the story. And even without the mistakes, this story wasn’t that great.

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        Rating: +5 (from 5 votes)
  • Anonymous

    No. That was awful.
    I hated your analogies. They were decent but I could tell you thought they were just perfect, which then put me off from them completely.
    Steam wouldn’t come from the body.
    It was remarkably unrelatable how calm and accepting they were of the situation. Your implication of how he liked her is one thing, but for him to still be more concerned with that in light of the events is stupid.
    You spent more time making us feel the emotions of those two for each other than for the zombies. How quick was her death compared to the description of her sitting next to him, putting her head in him, looping her arm through and dreamily saying, “Let’s just enjoy each other in our last moments”? That’s like a boy version of Twilight. You took zombies and made it into a guy wanting to hold hands with a girl. What the fuck.
    Better yet, this is a girly version of The Walking Dead.

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    Rating: +13 (from 33 votes)
    • Anonymous

      Yes. Zombies and humans are like ice and water???

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      Rating: +3 (from 3 votes)
    • lydia

      Yes if it was cold enough steam would come from a freshly opened abdomen. Ever seen or heard of a steaming pile of shit?

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      Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
    • lydia

      Yes if it was cold enough steam would come from a freshly opened abdomen. Ever seen or heard of a steaming pile of shit?

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      Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
    • lydia

      Yes if it was cold enough steam would come from a freshly opened abdomen. Ever seen or heard of a steaming pile of shit?

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      Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
    • lydia

      Yes if it was cold enough steam would come from a freshly opened abdomen. Ever seen or heard of a steaming pile of shit?

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      Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  • Anonymous

    What does the title have to do with anything?

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    Rating: +6 (from 10 votes)
  • MJT

    I couldn’t even read through all of it… The sentences were bland, and I just had to force myself to read through half of it, and read like two paragraphs at the end… Yeah, a bit of a burnt pasta… Uck.

    Suggestions ; Try to explain a bit of the background story and what goes on through his mind… And also, add some spice! The sentences were a bit choppy and not very fluent, to me it least… Though the basic idea of the story wasn’t too bad. Lacey didn’t seem to have much personality to me… Just an over all girly girl feminine type it seems. She’s a nurse, in a hospital… You’d think she’d be used to gore, and if it was mental hospital, that she’d be used to chaotic people… Some of the insane bite at others, no big deal… At first. So, that’s my bit on it.

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    Rating: +10 (from 14 votes)
  • ClockworkLizard

    The problem with ANY zombie story is finding the right balance between the horror of the zombies (to use you words, ice), and the human element (water). No one really wants to drink lukewarm water, and that’s what you’ve given us with this pasta. Heh, I made a funny.

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    Rating: +7 (from 15 votes)
  • ClockworkLizard

    Aw, I downvoted myself.

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    Rating: +5 (from 5 votes)
  • Alyssa

    Spelling* grammar* off* dirjel

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    Rating: +3 (from 7 votes)
  • Alyssa

    Your*

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    Rating: 0 (from 4 votes)
  • http://www.creepypasta.com/hope/ Dirjel

    Thank you Alyssa for correcting my abysmal spelling in that post. There is clearly no way I was being facetious or trying to make a point in that comment.

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    Rating: 0 (from 10 votes)
  • Anon

    That fucking nutcase let the zombies open the door and got the nurse eaten alive and himself killed too. Nice job!

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    Rating: +4 (from 4 votes)
  • A Chocolate Rabbit

    I liked it. The sentences and analogies were a little insensitive, but I felt the sadness when Lacey was eaten right in front of him. I gave it an 8. Not perfect, but still good.

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    Rating: +3 (from 5 votes)
  • Shadow Shimmer

    Awesome!

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    Rating: 0 (from 2 votes)
  • Pika

    What in the actual fuck? I came down with a case of super AIDS after reading this. “Ahh.” Lacey screams like how when I figure something out. And what’s up with all the fucking philosophy? You’re not Socrates or some bullshit. I really, honestly cannot think of a single compliment to add so I’ll enlighten you with some pointers, you sorry fuck.
    1. Check your damn punctuation. Before you can properly relay dialogue, make sure it ends with a proper mark. (Question mark for a question and so forth)
    2. Really? I had no idea where the story took place until the very end where you dropped sanitarium like 50 fucking times. Be sure to get the physical locations and positions set in stone so the reader isn’t forced out of the story by a simple mistake.
    3. Calm your ballsack there for a second, his brother is dead? Hardly relevant unless its about him dealing with mental illness. It just seemed like your character had too many open dilemmas; this tends to confuse the reader as we expect a focus point and not just a damn shotgun blast.
    4. Proofread.
    5. Stop sucking so bad.
    I promise you, if you revise your writing and grammar, make the story more linear and less vague, and allow the reader to connect dots instead of pointing out every fucking little reflection, then you’ll have a reasonably readable story. You have the first part down: you write and enjoy it. Now just practice and polish this turd.

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    Rating: +4 (from 6 votes)
  • SandMan

    he could have just said candlejack to get off th

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  • dogefan

    When I clicked the link I thought that this would be about doge. Much misleading.

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  • dogefan

    very misleading*

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  • TurkeyBurger

    Very……Ape? What?

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  • Gralgfarg

    Very Ape, Much Wow.

    Seriously though, I loved it, but I just wish Lacey and Jason had survived, you could have made a series out of them!

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    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)

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