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Estimated reading time โ€” 3 minutes

This is a call for help.

I don’t know how much longer I have. My iPad, my last connection to the outside world, is down to 10 percent. A few more minutes to send out this desperate message is all I have left.

You see, I’m stuck here, and I guess I have to fill you in on how exactly I got stuck in this shitty situation.

It was an ordinary day. I woke up, got ready for the day, ate breakfast, school, homework, you know, the daily routine. As per my routine, to finish the day, I was to take a shit.

So I did.

Before anything else, I have to say that my bathroom is different from others. For reasons I don’t know, the owner had a stall for the toilet, like those you’d find in those shitty public bathrooms.

Perhaps he didn’t want to see his fucked up face in the mirror the toilet faced.

It didn’t really matter though. I’ve gotten used to closing and locking the stall every time I used the toilet. Call it a force of habit, or an obsessive compulsion to use everything I come across.

Next to the stall was a window and a narrow ledge, where I put all my tissue. The ledge caused a small gap between the stall door and the window. Great for stuffing more tissue or the occasional magazine I’d bring along.


Nothing absolutely extraordinary or strange, but it was different.

Anyway, I pulled my pants down, sat, and felt the cold plastic on my bare ass. With nothing left to do but let nature take its course, I pulled out my iPad and started reading.

Of course, I started reading some creepypasta. It was late, quiet, and I was all alone: a perfect time to get a few goosebumps.

As I was reading and literally getting the shit scared out of me, I noticed a faint scratching on the stall door. It was as if a dog was scratching the flimsy plastic door except it was slower… more deliberate.

It stopped moments after I noticed it. I was unnerved. I didn’t have a dog. It couldn’t have been the wind. Those noises couldn’t have been fake.

I was scared as fuck, but I dismissed it. It must have been the plastic flexing from the temperature. Yeah, that was it.

I continued to read. I was almost done shitting, to be honest, but I couldn’t just leave my seat without finishing the story.

Then I heard a drop, a soft thud. The stack of tissues wedged between the door and the window collapsed. It fell forward out from my reach.

I checked the window outside. The night was as still as it could be. It couldn’t have been the wind. It was something else, something from the inside.

No, no, I was scaring myself. I slowly chuckled to myself. The rolls were probably just unbalanced in the first place.

So I continued. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong though. I set aside my iPad and slowly unlocked my stall. I gave it a slight push, but it wouldn’t budge. I reasoned that it must have been rusty.

I pushed harder, and harder, and harder, as hard as my seated position could muster, yet it wouldn’t move. It was as if someone on the other side was pushing back, holding me here.

I was panicking. Some malevolent force was keeping me here. I knew what was to happen next. I would be killed, or flayed, or mutilated, or driven to insanity.


The scratching began again. Louder, louder, louder. I could feel the plastic slowly being ripped to pieces.

I swear, it was toying with me.

Then I saw it.

A hand, if you could call it that, crept up to the gap, reaching in. This was it.

The hand was a rotting shade of green and grey, like it had just freshly dug itself out of the grave. It was putrid, and overpowered the already foul smell of the stall.

It’s slender, bony fingers ventured into my stall, grasping for something, seeking to rend the flesh from my bones.

I was frozen in fear. Imagine an end like this, caught with my pants down, found dead on a toilet.

The hand inched, closer and closer. I could almost feel the cold death permeating from its cold, pale flesh.

I was ready to die.

It suddenly rushed.

I closed my eyes and screamed. Tears came out of my eyes, sweat came out of every single pore, hell, I even pissed myself on the toilet. I waited. A few seconds, a few slow agonizing minutes. I did nothing.


I mustered up my courage and opened my eyes. It was gone! I was saved. I breathed deeply. No, I wasn’t ready to die, and I’m glad I didn’t.

I pushed the door once more, and I was greeted by an empty bathroom.

It took me awhile, but eventually, I realized.

My tissue.

It was gone.

All of it.

This is a call for help.

Please, somebody save me.

I like triple ply.

Credit To – Urich Victorino

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

68 thoughts on “3-Ply”

  1. 10/10 The part where you’re like “I don’t have much time! So let me take 2 hours to tell this” is the best thing bc that always annoys the crap out of me (literally)

    Speaking of which, I had a meta moment when you were like “I sat on the toilet and read creepypasta” bc that is exactly what I’m doing rn.

  2. That was beautiful. Awesome story.

    I need to hunt down and kill the toilet paper stealing monster before I am the next victim.

    What, cyborgs need to shit too.

    1. You’ve spammed several creepypastas with nothing but ‘BUT WHO/WHOM WAS [object related to the story]’, and I thought I’d just let one comment through to say:

      1) You’re not funny.
      2) Spam isn’t funny.
      3) That joke’s overused.

  3. “You see, Iโ€™m stuck here, and I guess I have to fill you in on how exactly I got stuck in this shitty situation.”

    That really is a shitty situation.

  4. Figured it all out from “…I got stuck in this shitty situation.” Ahh punny writing.

    Not really much to say other than it certainly game me a laugh. Plot twist: what if he’d given the TP back? Would you use it…

  5. Thats hilarious, I was on the toilet when I started reading this, kinda nervous at first not gonna lie

  6. I’m on the toilet right now i read two before this and the when it said i was taking a shit i was laughing but now I’m scared to get up

  7. This story.. Absolutely fabulous. Honestly, more fabulous than Grell Sutcliff. Do you understand how hard it is to become more fabulous than Grell Sutcliff?

    1. I know all to well, he is awesome, and I hate and love him at the same time, thank god I’m not the only Black Butler fan out there.


      Always watching…

  8. You died on the toilet?

    (btw is that an actual call for help or just you faking it, cuz i dont think something like that actually exists)


  9. Nathan Leachman

    Oh my god, this story is horrifying.

    He used the wrong “It’s”.

    He should have used “Its” – The horror

  10. A Zerg Hydralisk

    i have finally journeyed outside the horrifying and uneducated lands on Crappypasta, and this is the first thing i stumble upon in creepypasta.

    i regret absolutely nothing, this is probally the scariest story on the site.

    do you even know how it feels to be stuck on the toilet with no toilet paper? can you even imagine a shred of the horrifying expirience knowing that you are stranded on the toilet with no way to wipe your ass?!

    this man was brave enough to share his expirience of toilet paper theft, god bless him.

  11. Urich Victorino


    It’s been about a year since I actually wrote and sent this in. Apparently, it was a wrong idea to try and get this message out using

    I ended up using my hands. I had stank hands for the next 3 days. Forget about meeting new people and shaking their hands. Hell, forget choking the chicken if you nomsayin’.

    As for the creepy hand thing? To hell do I know. But now I keep extra rolls inside the toilet.

    1. The hand stole the toilet paper while he guy was pussying out in the toilet. Then he realized how fucked he was cause he has nothing to wipe his ass with. He is desperately calling for help.

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