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Estimated reading time — 21 minutes

My friends and I had just left a party at a local bar, and we were walking back to my house, seeing how it wasn’t too far away from where we were. On our way back, we happened to come across a small lot sandwiched between two apartment buildings that was filled with black garbage bags and piles of tires. Rich proposed going in, and after a few minutes of consideration, Dennis and I agreed. Obviously, there’s nothing special, or fun, about a rotten-smelling junkyard, but we were a bit drunk, so the idea seemed great at the time. We decided to play a game called “King of the Hill” on the fort of tires that stood before us. Basically, we were just pushing each other off of the top. After a while of climbing up, and falling down, a pile of tires in an idiotic attempt of having fun, we took a break by sitting against one of the dumpsters that stood near the entrance. As I tried to get a hold of my breath, I gazed around the small dump, and noticed something I failed to spot out before.

There was a white grocery bag hanging from the fence in the back corner of the junkyard. I figured that someone tried to throw it over, but it got caught on the fence on its way down.The bag seemed to be filled with something. It had blocky edges poking out from all sides. I know something as plain as a grocery bag isn’t much, but it still intrigued me.

“Hey,” I said as I nudged Rich, who happened to be sitting next to me,”Look over there.”Dennis leaned out behind Rich, and looked towards where I was pointing.
“So, it’s just a few rips. No one’s gonna care about whether or not the bags are torn.” Said Rich. He was pointing out the tears our shoes had left in the trash bags when we played our little game.
“No, the grocery bag hanging from the fence.” I said,
“So?”
“Well, it’s filled with something.”
“And?” Said Dennis. I shrugged,
“Don’t you guys wanna know what’s inside?”
“No,” Rich chuckled, “It’s just trash, man.”
“What if it was something like jewelry?” I said as I stood, and made my way towards the grocery bag.
“You’re just gonna find a dead cat in there, dude!” Dennis hollered as I struggled to climb the mound of garbage bags that blocked my path. His sentence was followed by the two of them laughing. I didn’t really care what they had to say. I was just a bit curious, that’s all.
Once I made it to the other side, I reached for the grocery bag and grabbed it. Inside of it was a whole bunch of cassette tapes, and an old Walkman.
“No way, you guys gotta see this.” I called to my friends,
“Did you find the leprechaun’s gold?” Rich mocked,
“Hold on, I’m coming.” Hastily, I climbed the pile of trash and walked back to where they were sitting.
“Look at this.” I held the bag open, letting Rich and Dennis view it’s contents. I pulled out a tape and read it’s label,
“Journal entry one,” I pulled out another, ” Entry three.” I read,
“No way, it’s someone’s diary.” Said Dennis.
“I wonder why they threw it away.” I said,
“Probably because they realized how stupid they were for keeping a diary.” Said Rich.
“Whatever,” I dropped the bag on the ground,” It’s one in the morining, we should be heading back.”
“Woah woah woah,” Said Dennis, as he snatched the bag up from the pavement,” What the hell are you doing, man? Don’t you guys wanna listen to these?”
“Well, it could be a bit funny.” Said Rich
“Journal entry one,” Started Dennis in a stereotypical british voice,” I walked my dog, BonBon, today at the park and came a across a rather odd squirrel.”
I laughed, “Dennis, you’re such an ass. Fine, lets take them with us.”
We left the junkyard, and continued to walk down the street towards my house. I remember how excited I was to listen to those tapes. Stupid, I know, but the thought of listening to someone’s personal life sounded interesting to me.
Once we arrived at my house, I unlocked the door, and immediately walked towards the dining room. Dennis set the bag down in the center of the table and pulled out the Walkman, as three of us grabbed ourselves a seat. Eager to hear what it had to say, I siezed the first tape, put it in, and pressed play. I was suprised at what I heard. The voice wasn’t at all what I expected. It seemed to be a boy who sounded as if he was in his late teens.

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Hey, my name’s Chris, and I’m a Junior in highschool. I don’t have many friends, actually, I have none. I guess it’s just because people don’t like me, or maybe because I’m just too weird. I’m not weird, am I? Anyways, that’s not why I’m here. It’s actually because my uncle gave me this Walkman and a few tapes. He said that the Walkman used to be his, and that he just didn’t have the heart to throw it away, because he used it so much as a kid. So he made it my birthday present. Well, I didn’t have the heart to let it catch dust in the corner, so here I am, using it. Maybe it’ll come in handy one day, I don’t really know. Should I go on with telling about myself? Well, my favorite class is science, and I’m extremely bad at math. Blue is my favorite color, and I prefer dogs over cats.

A door slams in the background, causing all of us to jump.

That was my mom. Her and my dad have been arguing alot lately for reasons I can’t even bother to figure out why. I know for one thing that my dad is thinking about calling a divorce, which doesn’t really bother me. It would bother anyone else, though, but it doesn’t bother me. That’s not weird right? I’ve been hearing alot lately that I’m a little ‘weird’. I don’t see why, though. I eat, drink, sleep, and live like a normal human being. That’s what I think, anyways. Maybe it’s just because I’m not as talkative as everyone else, or what if everyone was just making it up, so that they would have a reason to pick on me. Frankly, I can’t see why anyone would want to pick on me in the first place.

“What a loser,” Said Dennis, “I can see why people want to pick on him”. I shrugged,
“Let’s just play the next one.”

It’s January 14th, which is three days since I’ve made the last tape. I decided that I’m going to continue making tapes, and keep it as my journal. Who knows, maybe I’ll look back at these old recordings one day when I’m a bit older for a small dose of nostalgia. I’m making this a short one, because I have to leave in about five minutes. My mom’s taking me to some stupid jewelry party at one of our neighbor’s house because, according to her, I absolutely have to be there, or we’ll make a bad impression . So here I am, sitting in dress pants, a white button up, and a stupid tie. I don’t have dress shoes, so I just wore an old pair of Nike sneakers, which makes this situation about five hundred times worse. Maybe in the next tape I’ll talk about how the party went, hopefully it went well enough for me to talk about it.

We looked at eachother and laughed.
“Nike sneakers.” Rich muttered in an almost giggly tone.
“Should I seriously play the next one? I’m not sure if I can handle listening to this for another ten tapes.” I asked. Dennis and Rich nodded with giant grins on their faces.

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January 16th, I was punched in the face at school today by a senior whose name is Jake. Honestly, I don’t even know the guy. To make my day even more wonderful, I ended up eating outside in the rain, because all the seats in the cafeteria were taken by the time I got back from the nurse’s office. I could’ve simply cleaned up the blood pouring from my nose by myself in the bathroom, but one of my teachers, Ms. Hoffington, insisted that I go see the nurse. While I was at the nurse, I managed to get a glimpse of myself when I passed the tall mirror that hung on the outside of the bathroom door. I was a bit amazed at the amount of blood that was smudged across my face. Actually, it was kinda cool. I felt a small amount of pride when I got a good look at my face. Probably because I’ve never actually spilt that much blood in my life before. Jake got suspended by the way. For a week to be exact. I think he should be expelled, so that I didn’t have to see him again. Oh yeah, and, uh,by the way, the jewelry party went well. No one noticed my Nike sneakers, and the food was good.

A small amount of shock appeared on our faces. “Damn, he got punched in the face.” I said,
“Well it serves him right. Someone must’ve known he was making stupid ass tapes in his bedroom.” Said Dennis,
“How can you even be happy about getting a bloody nose?” Rich added, ” What the hell is wrong with him?”
I shook my head,” I don’t know, man.”

January 20th, While fooling around on YouTube for about two hours, I came across a weird documentary on something called the ‘Slenderman’. It’s an odd creature with no face, wearing what looks to be a suit, that has tentacles, giving it a dark, spidery look. It’s said to lurk in forests, and that once you see it, it stalks you before actually claiming you as its victim. No one really knows what the Slenderman actually does to his, or its, victims, and that all we really know is that they go missing without a trace. I guess alot of people are creeped out about this, and I can see why. The photos that depict him look pretty disturbing, but what actually generates the most fear are the stories about him. Actually, I’ve been listening to them all night, and I’m not scared at all, just intruiged. Turns out, these stories come from a site where people just write, and submit a whole bunch of creepy stories, and not all of them about the Slenderman. I’ve heard a couple that talk about lost episodes of famous Tv shows that depict some disturbing, twisted version of the actual show. I’ve also heard stories about serial killers, ghosts, and whatever else that’s remotely scary. Some are more gruesome, while others are just a bit eerie. I, for one, have never found any of these stories to be scary. I usually find myself thouroughly mystified as I read.

We all glanced at eachother, a bit confused about what the Slenderman is. I guess the kid was a horror fan. I put in the next tape, and held my head in my hands, wanting to go to sleep.

January 26th, Did I ever mention the site where I found all these stories from? It’s called creepypasta.com. Yes, I realize that it’s an odd name because an Italian dish is in no way creepy, but if you’re interested, check it out. You know, now that I think about it, these stories have showed me how much darkness can exist in this world. You’re never actually aware of it until you start thinking about it. What I’m saying is not crazy, it’s true. Darkness lurks in the hidden corners of everyday life. Right here, right now as I’m saying this, a person is getting brutally murdered.

Immediately after he said that sentence, my head shot up and I looked at Dennis and Rich, bewildered at what I just heard. They shook their heads and shrugged.

Somewhere out there a person is dying. Could be a full grown man, or a child. You never realized it until you heard me say it just now. But, hey, that’s the real world for you. Lately, I’ve been noticing how everyone else at my school is so blissfully ignorant to the horrible things in this world, while I’m being constantly reminded of it. No one sees what I see. It kinda makes them all look a little bit dumb. Don’t they see? Don’t they notice what happens around them? They hear sirens echo down the road, and it could just be a plain car crash, but what if it was caused by something far from our reach? They don’t know that. Their eyes aren’t opened wide enough to notice. At least I’m aware of it.

February 2nd, Have you ever noticed how much death is involved in an average creepypasta. It’s almost as if death is a needed element in the story. You know, ever since I started reading these stories, I’ve become pretty comfortable with the thought of dying. Sometimes, I laugh at those poor, poor people in those stories. I guess they haven’t realized how much of a friend death could be, even when pain is the price you have to pay for meeting him. After all, aren’t we all going to face it one day? Sooner for some people, later for the rest.

There was a long pause before he spoke again.

I’ve been thinking about writing my own creepypasta soon. After reading everyone else’s, I figured I should try it for myself. It’s worth a shot isn’t it? I think I’m going to write one about the Slenderman, or maybe Jeff…Or maybe I’ll write a story about a man who goes crazy, and starts killing everyone he knows… That sounds like a wonderful idea.

February 17th, They didn’t accept my story. What was wrong with it? Was my grammer off? Was the spelling bad? All I wanted was for it to be out there for everyone to see. Hell, it was probably one of the greatest ideas they ever came across, but…

He voice became angrier and a bit frustrated, almost as if he was about to go off on a full blown rant.

But they turned it down. Are they too stupid to see the brilliance in what I wrote? On top of that, I found two assholes who decided to read it, and make a mockery of my hard work. Idiots, they’re just a bunch of idiots who can’t see the genius in one’s work.

A loud scream erupted from the speakers of the Walkman, and a hard thud was heard soon after. I figured that he had just thrown it out of anger. I wonder what his story sounded like, and why they turned it down. The next tape started, and we immediatly realized how angry he was. He spoke in a loud, irratable tone, which was almost terrifying.

February 22nd, Stupid people. Stupid, stupid people. They should all rot in Hell for all I care. I shouldn’t have to deal with them everyday. Once I walk through that school’s front door, I’m surrounded by them. My teacher gave me a detention for not paying attention in class. Why should I? We’re all going to die. We’re all going to die someday, and there’s nothing we can do about it, but no one around me is smart enough to see that. Why? Why can’t they just open their eyes, and pay attention to the horrible world around us? They’re too preoccupied with their lives, and what comes tomorrow, instead of what comes at the very end. Did I tell you that I was pushed down the stairs today? Ben Trinner. He did it, and this time, I’m not letting it go. I’m going to find him, and he’s going to pay. You might be wondering how I’m going to get out of the house without my parents seeing me. It’s okay, they’re already gone. Dad’s still at work, and Mom-

There was a short pause, and a slight chuckle arose from his voice.

Mom’s taken care of. He’ll find her when he gets home, and I’m not coming back. I don’t have to deal with them anymore.
“What, what did he mean by ‘Mom’s taken care of?'” Asked Dennis in a hushed tone.
“Do you think-”
“No,” Rich cut me off, “There’s no way in Hell that little fucker did that. Play the next one.”
I obliged and put in the next tape, a little scared of what I may hear.

February 24th, I found an old warehouse in the outskirts of the town, and I’ve decided that that’s where I’ll be living from now on. The lights still work in the rooms where they’re not broken, and the boarded windows keep out most of the rain. It’s not that bad of a place, really. I stole all the money from my mom’s wallet, so food is already taken care of. In one of the rooms of the warehouse, I found a really old Tv. It’s a black and white one, and it uses a dial to change the stations. The reception’s a little bad, but I could still make out what’s happening behind all the static and whitenoise. I decided to change it to the news channel, and I was greeted with a picture of my mom.

A loud, almost evil, laugh echoed from the speakers, which goes on for a few minutes.

They think I’m dead, which is good on my end, because they won’t bother searching for me. Oh, the glory I felt when they announced how she had been stabbed five times in the chest. It made me feel a little bit excited to know that I have done such a thing. It wasn’t easy, but it sure was satisfying in the end. And now I have to find Ben. He doesn’t know it yet, but tonight is his last one on Earth. Luckily for me, his house is a few blocks from here. It’s eleven at night right now, and I should be finished by one. Wish me luck.

I quickly put in the next tape, now a little bit more concerned with what was going on. Was he really going to kill that kid? It almost seems too real to just be a sick joke. But no matter how much I wanted to think it was just a joke, a frightening truth stood in the back of my mind, telling me that it was all true.

February 25th, I’ve never felt so happy before in my life. You can’t even imagine the butterflies I got when I saw him gurgling his own blood in a worthless attempt of fighting for his life, and no one heard a thing. I was able to open one of the first floor windows without a hitch, thank God. It took me about thirty minutes to walk up the stairs without making a noise. I had to be careful, for even the slightest of all noises can awake someone. When I got to his room, I was able to open the door without him waking up. And everything else that followed seemed to happen so quick, almost as if my memories of the event were a flip book. I quickly covered his mouth before I dragged the knife across his throat, severing his jugular. I wanted to laugh at his squirming body as he died, but I didn’t, out of fear of waking his parents. I pulled open his bedroom window, jumped out, and ran. I think I hurt something in my foot when I landed, but I didn’t care. All I could feel was the cold, bitter wind slicing across my smiling cheeks as I ran. I’m back at the warehouse now, and it’s 1:45 in the morning. I have the Tv switched to the news, waiting to hear about my newest accomplishment.

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We all looked at eachother, still a bit traumitized from what we had just heard. An uneasy atmosphere hung in the room. He killed him, and no matter how much we didn’t want to believe it, we knew it was true. I hesitantly put the next tape in the socket, and pressed play. Immediatly, a loud, abrupt white noise blasted from the speakers, making us all almost fall out our seats. Even though that would be something we’d end up laughing about, no one broke a smirk. I grabbed the next tape and put it in, turning down the volume before I pressed play, fearing that there would be more static. I heard a faint voice, signaling me to turn the volume back up. This time, the kids voice sounded a bit huskier, pointing out that it has been year or two since his last tape.

January 17th, It’s been a while since I made one of these. Well, a few weeks ago I was kicked out of the warehouse. I had to move my location, since the police were planning to investigate the area on account of the recent murders.

He started to laugh again. The sound of it was almost sickening, and added a sense of dread to the atmosphere.

Seven, seven people have died since I’ve made my last tape, and each murder has become more gruesome and disturbing as the last. The last person’s eyes were gouged out, and their wrists broken. There was no rhyme or reason to why I did it. I did it simply because I HAD to. It’s just not enough. I need to kill. It’s the thing I find the most pleasure in. It’s even more fun to hear it announced to the public. Anyways, the police are investigating the area to find the body of another one of my victims. They suspected that it was the same killer as the last dozen, and they weren’t wrong. So, I’ve moved my location. I walked for quite a long time through the woods that bordered the southern part of my town, before I managed to enter the next town and take refuge there… It’s almost like those stories I took so much interest in. No, it’s exactly like those stories. What a dream to actually be part of my own Creepypasta, oh if only the rest of the world could hear about it.

The next tape was the strangest, and most horrifying that night. When I pressed play, all we could hear was static, but after a while we heard what sounded like screaming. There was a certain quality to it… It sounded panicked and strained, as if the poor person’s throat gave out from screaming too long.

January 22nd, You hear him. I know you do. That’s one of my newest… ideas. It makes me smile, seeing him beg and scream for help, knowing at this point nothing could save him. Why don’t you give up hope, my dear friend? You see, death is inevitable for you, and theres no escaping it now. But, hey, you shouldn’t have been walking around town so late. You know that there are terrors hiding in the corner every night, and that you should avoid them. But then you came across me.

He started to laugh again. The sound of it made me want to throw the Walkman at the wall, hoping to stop the evil laughter, but I knew I had to keep listening.

The best part is, he’s not even restrained. I broke his legs, making it impossible for him to walk. He should be proud to be the first one of my victims to die like this. I realized that every time I kill someone, I do it too quick, to the point where it’s not as… satisfying as I hope it would be. But by bringing him here, I’m able to see him struggle for his life before it actually ends.

Small bursts of static were heard, but even through all of that we could hear what was going on. We heard heavy, slow footsteps that faded away, as the distance between the Walkman and Chris grew. The screaming became louder, and more struggled. The sound of it alone made me want to puke. The screaming was then replaced with a horrible gurgling noise. Even through his blood filled throat, you can still hear him scream, begging for his life. I heard the familiar click and felt a bit relieved, but that quickly went away, as I realized that there was one more tape left.

February 5th, I have come up with the most wonderful idea yet. And it’s probably the best one. I figured that instead of just a slow and hesitant death, I’m going to let them rot and decay in their own fears. Should I tell you what it is?….It’s a surprise, and I would hate to spoil it.

The last tape clicked and we all looked at eachother with a grim look on our faces. We knew what we had just witnessed in the past ten minutes, but none of us wanted to acknowledge it, or believe it was real. After sitting in silence for what seemed like about twenty minutes, I spoke up,

“What do you think the suprise is?”
Rich abruptly sat up and pushed in his chair,
“I don’t know, man, and I don’t want to know,” His voice had an uneasy feel to it. It almost sounded as if he were a bit frustrated, “I’m leaving. I don’t want to take part in anymore of this.”
I stopped him,”Wait, you can’t go. What are we going to with the tapes?”
“Fucking burn them. Get rid of them. Pretend it didn’t happen. I’m leaving,” Said Rich
“Dude, calm down. We have to figure this out. We have to know who he is. He could still be out there.” I said. Dennis cut in,
“We should hand them over to the police. Maybe they could do something,”
“Really? And you know what else the police would do if we give these to them? Fucking nothing. We gotta figure this out on our own,”
“Oh yeah?” Started Dennis, “You wanna solve this big mystery? I know you want to know who he is, but you shouldn’t try messing with something that could kill you,”
“Sure, he might kill me, but he also might kill a shitload of other people. We have to figure out where this fucker is.”
“You’re not some kind of hero, Jake. I wouldn’t bother messing with it.” Said Rich
“I’m not trying to be a hero. What do you guys think I’m gonna do? Walk outside with a flashlight, and call his name like a lost dog? All I want to do is some research, that’s all.” We stood in an uneasy silence for a moment.
“Why were those tapes hanging on the fence in the first place?” Asked Dennis. He was right. Why were they hanging on the fence?
“Do you think someone had already found them and was trying to get rid of them?” I asked.
“Look guys,” Said Rich,” It’s, like, three in the morning. We’re all a bit tired, and we’re all a bit confused, so trying to figure this out now would be useless.” Dennis and I looked at eachother and nodded a bit sheepishly, realizing how true the statement was. Rich started to walk towards the door, and Dennis followed him soon after.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Jake.” Said Rich as he opened the door, making his way out. Dennis waved a goodbye at me and shut the door behind him. The sound of the door clicking shut gave me a sense of finality, and the silence that followed afterwards was almost sickening. I walked into the living room, and turned on the tv, hoping to uplift the heavy atmosphere the tapes have caused. I grabbed my laptop, sat on the couch, and turned it on. While it was starting up, I looked into the dining room, staring at the cassette tapes and walkman that still sat on the table until I heard the Windows 7 start up sound call for my attention. I immediatly opened up Google and searched for murders and deaths in this area, but nothing came close to what Chris had described. I tried looking for the school he went to, hoping I would get some clues, but that didn’t work either. I sat for a second, staring at the Google search bar, until I came across an idea. I clicked on the URL box and typed in ‘www.creepypasta.com.’

A site with a black background and white text came up, with the simple heading “Creepypasta.com”. I scrolled through the page, and read some stories and announcements.

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“This is what he was obsessed over?” I muttered to myself. Sure, some of these stories are kinda scary, but it certainly wasn’t anything that can drive someone to kill. How long has this site even been up? It doesn’t seem that old. This was probably around since my Senior year. I shut down the laptop and turned off the tv. After I got up, I walked into the dining room, and shoved all the tapes back into the bag. I decided that I would hand the tapes over to the authorities the next morning.

I barely went to sleep that night, because I was still shooken up over what I had witnessed earlier. And as I layed in bed…it almost seemed as if there was a presence, like someone besides myself was there. I quickly shrugged it off as my paranoid mind causing me to feel things that weren’t even there, and fell asleep soon after. When I awoke it was around twelve in the afternoon. I had slept late, which isn’t suprising, considering I went to bed at around five. I didn’t even bother to eat or brush my teeth after I got up. I just got dressed, grabbed the tapes, and got in the car. The tapes and Walkman were sitting in the passenger seat. They seemed to emit some uneasy feeling throughout the ride, which only made me more eager to get rid of them.

When I arrived at the police station, I quickly grabbed the tapes and entered the building. I didn’t even bother to turn the car off. The building’s lobbey was vacant, and the only person who was there was the cop sitting at the desk, sipping coffee and filling out paper work. I dropped the bag onto the counter, causing the man to look up from his work.

“Can I help you?” He said in a somewhat irratable tone.
“I-I think I solved a few dissapearances.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, and glanced towards the filled grocery bag that sat on his desk.
“Those?” He asked. I nodded quickly. He sighed, grabbed the bag, and put it on the floor next to him,
“Alright, I’ll present it to the authorities when I can.”
“Aren’t you the authorities?” I asked, a bit frustrated at how little he was concerned.
“Listen, I only hand out speed tickets and search for lost parents at the mall. But right now, I’m doing this here paperwork, and when I get the chance I’ll hand them over to authorities.” I nodded with some dissapointment and left, relieved that I didn’t have to be close to those tapes anymore.

Once I got home, I grabbed my mail and opened the front door. As I made my way into the living room, I tossed the stack of bills onto the table. I was suprised to hear something hard hit the wooden surface. When I looked back I noticed that the manilla folder that layed among the white envelopes wasn’t filled with sheets of paper, but a small object. A bit curious, I went back and opened it. I cringed when I saw what the folder had revealed.

Inside the folder was a small, black cassette tape labeled, “Entry 15.”

No, this wasn ‘t possible. It had to be Rich or Dennis. There is no way another tape was sent to me. We were the only ones who listened to them that night. And I was certain no one saw us, except for a few cars that passed when we were walking down the street.

I wanted to hear what the tape said, but I remembered I gave the walkman to the police. I searched my basement for a radio, anything, that I could play this tape in. I had to know what it said. Finally, after searching for what seemed like an hour, I came across a box in the basement that had a small cassette player inside. Hastily, I grabbed the dusty object from the box, and ran back up stairs. As soon as I reached the table, I put the tape inside the player and pressed play, hoping to hear that this tape and the other’s were just a sick joke one of my friends had planned out. But once I heard the voice, my stomach dropped, and I felt as if I were going to puke.

April 12th, Hello Jake what did you think about my game? It took me a while to get it ready, but it was all worth it. I knew your curious little mind wouldn’t be able to help itself. I’m surprised at how smoothly this all went out, actually. You and your friends barely noticed me when I put that bag on the fence. And you went and grabbed it, almost as if it was on cue…Are you still surprised, Jake? I’ve been keeping a close watch on you ever since I killed Ben, but I never actually carried out anything ’till now. I knew I had to save the best for last just for you. And now that I think about it, the waiting was all worth it. I’m shocked, Jake. You seem like you don’t even recognize me at all. Don’t you remember punching me in the face back in highschool?

I started to hear the sound of leaves shuffling. It sounded as if he were walking through the woods.

You guys look pretty scared over what you heard in that last tape. I can see it right through the window.
Once the tape had stopped, slowly and unwillingly, I looked towards the window on the south side of the dining room. There was nothing there except for the bushes that stood directly in front of the glass.Terrified, I ran towards the phone to call the cops. When I heard a voice on the other end, I jumped into a panic.
“Hello!” I desperately asked the phone. As I spoke, I patrolled the house, making sure that all of the windows and doors were locked.
“Oh, it’s you again,” Said the policeman I met earlier, “Listen, I told you I would get to it when I ca-”
“Someone’s after me. I just recieved another tape in my mail, and there were threats directed towards me on it, I think it’s the same person who made the tapes I gave you. He’s going to kill me.”
The officer spoke in a bored tone, “Well make sure that everything’s locked up, first,” He paused, “Now, are ya sure it’s not just one of your friends trying to mess with ya?”
“I’m absolutely sure it’s not one of my friends. Please, send someone out here.” I pleaded
“Sorry, but all you can do for now is to make sure that no one can get in. Just go up to your room and quietly read a book or something.” I slammed the phone back onto the hook. He’s not listening to me. I grabbed my laptop, and headed up to my room. I didn’t notice before, but I was the Jake Chris had mentioned in one of his tapes. And now he was back to get me, just like how he had killed Ben. I shut my door behind me and locked it, hoping it would serve as an extra layer of defense.

I decided that I would document what had happened to me, and submit it to creepypasta, so that it could serve as a warning to everyone out there. And that’s how I got to here, typing desperately on my laptop. I just heard some glass break downstairs, and I’m becoming more terrified by the second. I’m going to try to finish this up the best I can.

Please, for everyone’s sake, if you happen to have a “thing” for scary stories, don’t get too obsessed, or you may turn into what you originally have feared. If not, then watch out for those who are vulnerable to becoming the monster that Chris is.

Chris, honestly, I hope you’re happy. You have your own creepypasta, and you live in what you admire so much. You were right, the darkness in a simple scary story is more real than I thought.

Credit To: TVATR

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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.

157 thoughts on “Warning”

  1. Why is this rated so high? The grammar is awful and the story is cliche and unoriginal. I WISH this website rejected pastas like this asinine story says they do.

  2. Yeah, sorry, it’s just.. this kid thinks he’s going to die so he posts his story on creepypasta? That doesn’t seem very productive, a real person would call their friends if the police weren’t helping, and by the way, the police are required to send someone out there even if they think it’s a prank.

  3. There were the holes that other people pointed out, and the grammar wasn’t great, and it was hard to get attached to the characters. also, the title doesn’t make sense. At all. 5/10.

  4. Stacie Stevens Markham

    Who was Ben? I dont remember any previous references to him in the story, so I don’t know why he was named..

  5. The whole thing just fell flat and was very disappointing… Way too cliché, dialogue was bland, very c class horror movie type. I expected better because of the rating of the pasta, super disappointed.

  6. I have to say that I completely disagree with the statement that pasta as a food isn’t creepy. I might even write an ironic and self referential creepypasta about it. Then punch myself in the face for being so stupid and downvote myself a solid 1

  7. I liked it. The grammar was the scariest part, but the story was interesting enough that I read it in spite of the fact. My favorite part was the bit at the end about Chris getting his own creepypasta and living in the thing he loves most. Although, some of these folks are right, your introduction of creepypasta into the story could’ve been more subtle. All-in-all 8/10.

  8. Sounds serious. Me and my team will look into it. Thank you for the tapes, they will really help with the profile.

  9. Only one thing I’d say: if the small-town lazy cop wouldn’t take you seriously, why not call 911 (or equivalent emergency number)? I’m pretty sure they HAVE to send police, even if they think it’s a prank and then, if it is one then you’ll get in *trouble* with the police, but they’ll still have come… so they can’t just not send help (unless maybe some fool in the McDonalds’ drive through is complaining about their burger or something on the 911, but someone saying they’re actually *threatened*? They have to investigate)

  10. Aaah the ending destroyed it. :/ I’m not a fan of the whole “and here I am typing all of this out before I die” it just kills everything. It screams fake. But otherwise I enjoyed the story. :) I loved the idea. Didn’t mind the creepypasta bit.

  11. there are crazy peolpe out there ad are going to kill you. Or u could die of old age. I prefer to live forever and kill forever.

  12. I really loved this story… i think it did well and is a 10/10. I love reading it and i cant stop. Makes me think what a wonder some people can turn into.

  13. Well, I for one liked this story. :) And this here kids is what happens when people become too over obsessed with CreepyPasta.

    Just remember, don’t try this at home. XD

  14. Great pasta. Kind of reminded me of old boy how jake simply forgot about the punch because it wasn’t important to him.

  15. Chris' girlfriend

    Chris didn’t I fucking tell you to stop leaving your tapes around the place? Now the fucker brought it to the police so you better have a plan!

  16. I honestly love this creepypasta. It’s pretty damn amazing.

    So amazing, in fact, that I was wondering if it’d be all right with you if I did a short film adaptation of it. If I do get permission, is there any advice you can offer (such as whether or not I should film some flashbacks to go with the cassette recordings)?

    Thanks in advance!

  17. OMFG look at all these FUCKING COMMENTS LIKE WTF THERES TO MANY anyways this is a pretty good story
    wait theres so many comments here yep no ones gonna read dis wow FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUU I just wrote all of this for nothing great

  18. This creepypasta is creepy to me because it almost felt real, because there is actually some people could take their obbssesion o far that it makes them go insane, thats why it just sends chills down my spine. congradulatons to the writer its on my top 10 creepypasta stories.

  19. Dropped this the moment I read “Slenderman.”
    Anyone wanna tell me if it’s a slender story? cos’ I cbf.

  20. creepy 10 year old

    Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo long. Took me ten minutes to read. And I read fast too!
    Good thing this is just a story!

    Or is it?

  21. Chris and Jeff are awesome.
    I know it sound…crazy…but I am not
    I just the person who watches you sleep and sneak in a stroke your head and leave….

  22. I love reading these it just makes me all the more like Chris but u don’t have to worry I’m not going to kill any one. Loved the story or was it real !

  23. Creative. Really creative. :D I like the fact the killer was obsessed with the pastas. :) Him mentioning Slendy and Jeff made me smile and realize that some people in the world are like this. Really great ending to wrap it all together.

  24. Nice read. A little predictable, but I found it creepy and it had me on edge. My only complaints was Jake would not have had time to write so detailed and at the length this story was with a psycho killer on the way to him. Also the cops behavior was so unrealistic, and unprofessional. He would have stayed on the phone with him and assured him officials were on the way.

  25. i am a good friend to the guy who wrote th is. i honestly didint think it was half bad i was actually getting a bit creeped out. good job buddy!~hayden h.

  26. you know i actually liked this story alot and considering i have a friend named chris who isn’t a fan of creepy pasta’s lol xD the comments about how he didn’t put it all together in the beginning is easy they were all drunk remember so their minds probably would’nt be as clear and also it probably slipped his mind till the last minute but i agree could use a bit more detail and different acting cops… i mean seriously with all the murders the cop would take it a bit more serious

  27. i told them all goodbye before they died but it was amazing just watching all there blood spill it made me feel like a loved child…

  28. I loved the story up up until the end. The ending didn’t really work well. There was no way he was able to type this within the few minutes he had while Chris was going to kill him.

  29. Tattletalestrangler

    As soon as he said slenderman i was like”damn it”, dont think he had time to write and proofread his story, unlikely.

  30. I felt like this story had a lot of potential at the point when Chris started to lose his mind. I think you could have done more with it by slowing down the time-line and spicing up the vocabulary.

  31. that was cool. a series of murders spawned by a website and a fucked up kid looking for revenge. i think they should make a movie like that.

  32. Honestly, I liked the pasta a lot! Although, only ONE small thing bugged me. I don’t know if anybody else mentioned this, I was kind of too lazy to read all the comments. But, wouldn’t jake be like “oh that’s weird I punched some kid named Chris in the face and got suspended when I was in high school” & they obviously lived in the same town considering try went to the same school, so wouldn’t he have known about all the murders going on?

  33. so let me get this straigh. if i come up with a half decent story, with a crap ending; i can get it on the main site if i spin around three times in front of a mirror and say creepy pasta?

    what im trying to say is…. if u take out all the shoutouts to creepy pasta, there isnt much to this story. :)

    i wanna be scared. i dont wanna hear how great u are at scaring ppl and twisting their already warped minds.
    magetable kthxbai

    “they watch you from the shadows. Truth be told, human, it is them, who are afraid of you.”

  34. i couldn’t become like chris because to act out my favorite pastas i’d need professional makeup, fake claws and mutated body parts, a smoke machine, flashy pyrotechnics and someone dumb enough to run off into the woods or abandoned ruins at 2 am, none of which i have.

  35. I could be wrong but I feel like the person who wrote this is a very young man. I also feel like every single damn pasta that involves a group of boys playing somewhere in the beginning is a) probably written by a very young man/boy b) has very poorly constructed dialog and c) is very, very, unnecessarily long and drawn out. This pasta fits that mold, so I dislike it severely. I did not read all of this, because I could not imagine the first 1/4 of it contained less lameness than the rest. Try again.

  36. It would obviously be better without the meta stuff, but far more distracting to me was the incredibly poor understanding of how police work. If you say that somebody’s trying to kill you, they don’t just tell you to lock your door and let them know how things go. Christ.

    Even if they don’t believe your complaint is legitimate, they’re required to act on it by law. They have to come out to a local woman’s house once a month and pretend to spray “Bigfoot repellent” around her windows and doors so that he won’t come steal her underwear. A routine check for prowlers outside a house is no problem, really.

  37. Nicely done, but as was already mentioned, the creepypasta bit subtracts the scaryness of the story and the fact that he was writing everything down whilst in danger didn’t seem plausible, especially since the story is a bit lengthy. 8/10

  38. This was the most annoying unnecessarily long day story I’ve ever read! It dragged on and on! That tid bit about slenderman had absolutely no relevance to the story! Adding the websites name broke the Fourth wall and brought me back to Reality making the reader lose focus of the story… I think have permanent brain damage from this asasine writing

  39. Not the best ever read, but a very good attempt. Since I see that the OP is keeping tabs on the thread and reading the comments, I’ll just address you directly, TVATR. :)

    You had some excellent variance going with your vocabulary and sentence structure—by which I mean you used a nice array of words, didn’t overuse too many terms/cliches/what-have-you, and as a bonus your sentences varied nicely in length so the reading itself didn’t become boring or staid.

    Like Krysta, I was thrown off by the transitions between the tapes and the characters’ dialogue and interactions, but I figured you might have italicized the tapes and the formatting just didn’t make it through, and (having read through the comments before posting, in case anyone else addressed my concerns, rendering me pretty well useless :P) I see that you’ve already addressed that. Lesson learned, indeed! From one writer to another, it’s very important to remember that, to grow as a writer, you must always accept and learn from CONSTRUCTIVE criticism (not just the inevitable “DIS WUZ BAD, I HATESED IT” comments). It can be hard sometime, but I see you’re accepting all your feedback gracefully, so I applaud you for that, good sir and/or madame!

    My BIGGEST problem with the story, though, was how blasé the cops were. Assuming our protagonist called 911 and not the police department directly, the 911 operator would NOT have taken such reports so lightly. Even if that one cop at the police department happened to be a dick about the evidence tapes (which I seriously doubt would have happened; the solving of ANY murders are serious business in law enforcement), the 911 operator would most certainly NOT have been the same man (911 dispatchers and police staff are two entirely separate departments). To demonstrate what I mean, let me tell you a couple real anecdotes, that really happened to me, personally:

    When I was about 7, on a dare from a cousin, I dialed 911. I hung up before the operator even finished her “911, what is your emergency?” spiel, since I was scared my mom might find out and I would get in trouble. Surprise, surprise: the operator called back to check and make sure that everything was all right; even back then (the mid-1990s), the dispatch department had the technology to trace incoming calls.

    Fast forward to just a few weeks ago. I was home alone, my parents vacationing for the weekend several hours away, when my dogs (a border collie mix and a German shepherd, both of whom are very quiet unless there is significant reason not to be) started barking, around 10pm at night. Our current house backs up to a busy street, so I figured some kids were just walking by… when I peeked out the door (which was open, since we have a fenced yard and it was a lovely night), there was a man glaring over my fence straight at me.

    After shitting a couple bricks, I immediately called 911 and reported that there was a strange man staring over my fence. The dispatcher lady already had my address from the moment I’d placed the call, and she asked that I lock all the doors and windows and stay on the phone with her until the police arrived, and not to open the door without first calling through the door to ask who it was and seeing their badge through the peephole. When they arrived and held up their badges to the peephole, they were armed both with billy clubs and ACTUAL FIREARMS, and took a look around not just my property but several of the houses around mine. Before they left, they told me to call 911 again, IMMEDIATELY, if I saw the same man ANYWHERE NEAR MY PROPERTY.

    TL;DR version: I called 911 over an intimidating-looking man I didn’t recognize staring over my fence, and the cops arrived within two minutes to look for him. I doubt very, VERY much that a caller frightened that someone was actively breaking in to kill him would have been told to lock his doors and read a book.

    The skeletal structure of the story is solid, though, and with some work I think it could be genuinely terrifying! So don’t give up; you’ve got real potential and you need to hone that. With people like Danielle Steel and Stephenie Meyer running around, we need all the good writers we can get. ;)

  40. The idea was really original, but I have some of the same complaints as other comments on here. The talking about creepypasta halfway through the story sounded thrown in as a second thought, not a real part of the story. I know some shows or books or whatever can make fun of the fact that they’re in a story, but when it’s as blatant as it was here, it doesn’t sound right.

    Second, theres a problem with the ending- or lack thereof. The ending sounded too abrupt, and almost had an ‘and then I died’. If he’s being hunted, about to be killed, his last thoughts probably won’t be to go write a story about it online.

    One more thing, the conversations with the police didn’t sound right. The way it was written, it sounds like the Police brush off some kid coming in saying he’s solved a bunch of murders. And when he calls, they don’t do anything. They’re the police, if someone calls to say they’re about to be murdered, the police don’t tell them to go read a book.

  41. I liked it but all creppy patas are just about fake and they make the stories abit to predictable…. It was good you wrote it well but, why the ads in the middle? Alrigth thanks for the story peace

  42. “Stereotypical British voice” brought me out of the story, and I didn’t continue. I was thinking “Do they mean English? Well, why not say English?”. I guess an American would have an English accent in mind when they think of a stereotypical Brit. Although you all claim to be Scots/Irish descent, so who knows. I decided that I wouldn’t have been pondering this if the story had been more absorbing, so gave up.

  43. Everything before the tapes started getting creepy was sucktastic, OP must not have many friends because he can’t write banter for shit. After that I almost sorta got into it until BUT WHO WAS JAKE. Maybe it’s just me but I remember everyone I’ve punched in the face and I’ve done a few drugs in my day. This guy must have serious fucking issues.

  44. You mean to tell me the narrator was just nonchalantly typing all that out, while he was waiting to be killed? Did he just remember all the tapes, all the words, all the screams and footsteps, or did he listen to the tapes again to write them down? Wait, no he didn’t, he gave them to the cop. Nothing on the tapes rang any bells, although he knew the guy personally? They went to the same school for crying out loud! And why did he just accept his fate, why didn’t he fight, why didn’t he run, why didn’t he stand up for himself? Was “Chris” some kind of superman or something? He had no element of surprise whatsoever. Here, I’m gonna say it: this pasta was a big, fat, predictable FAIL, not even remotely scary. 1/10

    1. I totally agree. Poor writing, poor plot. For something to be believable (and therefore creepy) it has to be something that would happen in real life. The police would have taken the allegations more seriously and nobody would have written, verbatim, in a moment of panic, what they’d heard on the tapes. Big fail.

    2. Hash-Slinging Slasher

      Though I agree with everything else, it was stated that Jake didn’t know Chris in any way. He just randomly punched him, and Chris found out his name later.

      1. He didnt remember punching a kid he didnt know in the face when he was a senior and getting suspended for a week? Seems like there are more than enough details to ring some bells.

  45. While the Creepypasta.com links were a bit annoying, this was a neat format and a good read. While it’s not my favorite, it kept my attention and was entertaining. It also didn’t have some cop-out ending like “I AM NOW HIM I AM A CREEPYPASTA” that so many new ones seem to have.

    May not eat again soon, but glad I tried it.

  46. I have some negative feedback for this Pasta, with little positive.

    First of all, I wished that you would have used quotation marks when the tapes were playing. Even though the paragraphs were spaced out to help show when the recorder was playing and when the characters listening were interacting, it was still confusing.
    (Example: “January 10th, I’m descending deeper into madness as time passes, etc, etc.”
    Character actions in a seperate paragraph here.
    “More tape here. Or whatever.”)

    I also didn’t enjoy the refrencing to this site. I felt like it was more the site that corrupted Chris. Which, sure, is probably the case, but I feel like the story would have held more value if he slowly – and through his own madness – grew with a darker mindset.

    The timeline seemed a little rushed. And not only the timeline, but the whole story and actions. You need to slow it down. Throw in more detail.

    However, I did enjoy fragments of the plot. I do, however, think you can work on improving. :)

    Overall, I think this deserves a 1.5/5 or 2/5. It was a nice attempt.

    1. Yeah, about the quotation marks thing, the recordings were originally italicized, but I didn’t know it wasnt going to show up when the posted it. Lesson learned. And I’ll take your critquing into consideration, this is the second pasta that I wrote, so I’m still just starting to get the hang of it.

  47. I enjoyed this creepypasta very much. I can kind of relate to chris… although i dont kill people and obsess so much over creepypasta XD

  48. Wow. I didn’t expect so much positive feedback. I realize that adding creepypasta would take away from the story a little, but the whole story is about if one of us (dear creepypasta readers) got obbsessed with it.

    1. The guy’s name is Jake, but I do get why you mistaken it as Jake Chris. If I remembr correctly, the sentence was “I was the Jake Chris had mentioned.” Note the [Chris had mentioned]

  49. He submitted a pasta on the 2nd and it was already read by the 14th? Dream on pal!

    Anyway wonderful read TVATR. I’ll have you know I despise both stories that reference creepypasta.com directly and the whole “I’m writing this to tell you my story before I die” format, but this one was both engaging and unique. I don’t think any story has quite directly cited creepypasta as this one has, much less been the catalyst for creating the killer. Hear that derpbutt? You should be so proud.

    A slight nitpick here. If he was writing this to quickly “tell his story” before he’s murdered I seriously doubt it’d be so detailed down to them playing with junkyard tires. If I was writing while a psycho was trying to kill me it’d be more like, “gaaah fucking help wdeesafea listened to tapesjudiz turned to killer gdargfafpoi gaaaah!” A possible explanation you might’ve implied is that Chris ‘let’ him finish so he could have a creepypasta of his own, that’s the vibe I got from that last paragraph.

    Still I will admit I was somewhat disappointed when you delved so deep into the creepypasta theme. I mean I thought it’d be cooler to listen to the killer’s descent into madness without the metareference. And the whole ‘it was planned’ seemed to obvious. Don’t get me wrong, it was still excellent and platinum for this site. I’m just telling you personally I’m not a fan.

    Anyway thank you for this wonderful read. Fantastic story, and I think through this you’ve basically stolen the ‘listening to descent into madness through personal journal,’ much like how Survival Guide stole the ‘comical survival list.’ So be proud of yourself for that!

      1. I think, there is more to this story than we are reading… more or less, a morale to it:

        “You never know someone until you walk in their steps/shoes.”

        Or, more or less; we’re all different and that’s how it’s supposed to be, so don’t judge someone because they’re different… cause you’re just as different as them.

        Personally, after reading this; I am both intrigued beyond what I thought I would be and rather amused to see a story within a story within a story; excellent work and this deserves to be somewhere around 9.5 or higher.

        -10/10 voted because of how “eye-catching” this story is.

        (not sure if you copied anyone else’s work or anything, not my job to give a damn if you did; but hopefully you were mature enough to be original)

  50. I think this is absolutely fantastic.. Now if only I could write such deliberate stories.

    I have tried, but I suppose I won’t obsess over it :D

    1. I thought it was good story . It was cool a cool plot , but kind of predictable towed the end . When the last tape said “I have a suprise…” or whatever I knew instantly that he was coming for them and that he set the tapes . good story though . I’m scared to go to the bathroom now .

  51. I thoroughly enjoyed this pasta. This managed to raise my heartbeat slightly! However, I could tell that Chris was the one that set those tapes there, and the plot line was mildly predictable, but overall, this was a VERY tasty pasta. :)

  52. Um
    what up with the mid-story creepypasta.com ads?
    e.g.
    “Turns out, these stories come from a site where people just write, and submit a whole bunch of creepy stories, and not all of them about the Slenderman. I’ve heard a couple that talk about lost episodes of famous Tv shows that depict some disturbing, twisted version of the actual show. I’ve also heard stories about serial killers, ghosts, and whatever else that’s remotely scary. Some are more gruesome, while others are just a bit eerie…It’s called creepypasta.com. Yes, I realize that it’s an odd name because an Italian dish is in no way creepy, but if you’re interested, check it out.”
    This feels like an ad; why is it here, that’s stupid

    1. Do not reference creepypasta at all during your story. It doesn’t make it any more believable, it just reminds your readers that they are wasting time on the Internet and they should be doing something productive. That’s not something you want me to be thinking about as I read.

        1. I can actually Relate to one of the characters in this story. It made me kinda concerned, because the one i could relate to weirdly enough would be, Chris… (O.o)
          Almost everything about him I could relate to, except the killing part, I could never imagine myself killing any one.

      1. Hash-Slinging Slasher

        It also makes you realise just how similar you are with a character. That you’re on the exact website they loved so much.

      2. I like it. Yeah, it could have been incorporated in a…better and more subtle way, because the way it was said did sound like an ad. But, I think it comes out pretty decent in the end with the “I hope you’re happy – you got what you wanted” bit. But, along the same topic, least believable part of this story was him saying his submission was turned down – as if, having read some of the crap that makes it on here, anything getting refused is at all a believable suggestion.
        View may be skewed a bit because rather than reading it, I was listening to the dramatic reading on YouTube with CreepyPastaJr, Mr.CreepyPasta, CreepsMcPasta, and CreepyPastaRaven, who make a lot of these stories sound better than they do reading them silently to ourselves.

      3. Yeah I think the author would benefit from keeping the focus on the mind of the killer. I think that Chris became obsessed with horror fiction because he was developing the mind of a killer in the first place. Horror stories did not cause it, they were a result. Perhaps just have Chris mention his obsession with horror or perhaps serial killers without mentioning creepypasta specifically. Great concept though, I liked it.

  53. I think it would have been better if creepypasta wasn’t involved. Seemed like you were trying too hard when you didn’t need to.

    1. Made me think about the Scarecrow from Batman! Because he used fear gas and scythes to murder people who were mean to him in high school. Hee.

    1. you are a retard beyond my ability comprehend please destroy anything capible of browsing the web and never look at a screen again…

      -thank you for understanding

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