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Dead and Buried



Estimated reading time — 3 minutes

Dead and Buried

I buried my grandfather last week. A deplorable man who made the lives of everyone around him miserable. He left me with nothing but bad memories and debt. I wished him dead every day till he passed away at the overdue age of ninety one. I was the one that cared for him, and I was the one that found him in his bed. He was sitting up, back against the headboard. His heart had given out on the spot, killing him before he even went to sleep. His eyes just seemed to stare at me, an angry stare he often gave in life. I was left with his estate, and I made sure that his funeral be as cheap and short as possible so that it cause little intrusion to the lives that were obliged to attend.

In ages past my name meant something. That name died with time, however nothing damaged the family name more than my grandfather. Spending the dwindling family coffers on occult artifacts and our reputation on the eccentric. With my parents untimely death when I was young, I am the last of my line. Yet because of my grandfather, all am left with is a decaying estate and near empty coffers. Yet even after I left him rotting in the ground of a cheap grave I could not get him out of my mind. My dreams kept bringing his memory back. I dreamed of darkness, I was laying down on my back my arms folded on my chest. I tried to move but found walls on either side of me, and another not six inches from my face. I still remember the smell of fresh earth and rot. I could feel my arms as they rubbed together, dry sagging and wrinkled. I tried to scream but my mouth was dry and my lungs refused to take in air. I tried to strike out with all my limbs but I found hard wood encompass me.

When I awoke from my nightmare I found myself on the floor of my bedroom. I felt my night terrors must have moved me out of my bed, but I could not get the dream out of my mind. I was resolved to rid myself of my grandfather once and for all. I sold every last item the man had owned. All the artifacts, all the books, and every bit of occult nonsense that he wasted his time and money on. I took any price I was given for I did not wish to spare another thought for him. The dreams did not stop, but grow worse. I was visiting an old school friend when another dream, or vision happened. Again I was in the darkness, the smell and feel of the cage I found myself in felt more real than ever. I could feel myself, every inch felt different. I could feel the age on me, and know this was the body of my Grandfather. In desperation I clawed at the wood in front of me, I could feel shocks of pain as my fingernails tore off my hands. When I awoke from this dream I saw the concern on my old friends face. He told me that in the middle of our conversation my personality changed. That I grow agitated and tried to leave in a hurry. He said it was like I forgotten where I was. It was only with his skill in diplomacy that he managed to get me to sit back down for a few moments more till I came out of whatever possessed me. I bid my friend an apology and left his company not a few moments after I assured him am myself again.

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By the time I made it home I felt a weight on my mind. I felt I understood what was befalling me. Even after death my grandfather seeks to take what is mine. The horrors of my fate were not lost on me. His grave will be my grave, his rotting corpse will be the new home of my soul. Again that night I experienced the vision, I refused to sleep till it came. I could feel it coming, as if something was pulling my head, and my sight away. The Silence I felt that night drove me to madness, kicking and hitting as if having a tantrum.Yet it was all for naught as I could not escape. When I awoke after, I know my time was growing shorter. It was coming soon, the final switch. I refused to let that be the end, my Grandfather will not have his victory.

The Switch would be soon, I have little time to prepare. This letter will be my final testimony. By the time I finish writing I will have taken a number of medications that will put me in a deep sleep. I arranged with the last of the money in my name to be buried in the woods. I will not give the names of who I conspire with for such a task, but I know them to be trusted as long as the money is correct. When I awake, or when Grandfather awakes he will find that his cage is complete. I won’t let him win, he will share my fate and be trapped under the earth till our corpses rot!

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Credit To – BlueHero

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22 thoughts on “Dead and Buried”

  1. Melfina the Blue

    Wonderful Gothic fic. Great atmosphere, and it reminds me of “The Thing on the Doorstep” by Lovecraft, but in a subtle homage way.

  2. 6/10 for me. You lose some points for basically ripping off the plot from HP Lovecraft (see: The Thing on the Doorstep). However, I’ll give you a few for that extremely disturbing ending – I’m getting claustrophobic just thinking about it.

    Though, if Grandpa plays by the same rules as Asenath/Ephraim Waite (again, see: The Thing on the Doorstep), he could just pick out another body with the right kind of brain. Unless it’s after Hallowmass and the switch has been made permanent. Or, if in your mythology, Grandpa can only possess the bodies of people who share his gene pool… maybe clarify that aspect of the story a bit.

  3. Viceroy Fizzlebottom

    I think this story deserves a higher rating. It may not be as creepy as some other pastas, but I think some aspects of this story were brilliant. Instead of the obvious villain winning in the end, the main character is destroyed by himself and his own bitterness. It’s a profound twist, in my opinion. Well done.

  4. I wouldn’t listen to ThisSucks, your pasta is actually quite good, and original. It breaks the tradition of the pasta’s narrator being either overtly or ambiguously screwed, usually in a way no one sees coming. In your pasta the narrator begins to understand what the reader already knows. This is very entertaining because it puts the know it all reader back into a place of uncertainty. Suddenly the readers predicted outcome is in question. Don’t get me wrong, I realize that the narrator in your story is still overtly screwed, but the refreshingly original part is that he actively takes steps to thwart his antagonist’s plans. This simple twist to the established pasta format made this a very enjoyable read.

    1. I got more of a Lovecraft vibe. I can’t recall the name off the top of my head but there’s a story where the dead father takes over his daughter’s body after he dies. Then he takes her husband’s body.

      To the author, I’m sorry. Unoriginal, and not well written. Though I encourage you to keep trying.

  5. It had an air of…pushed intellect. “skills in diplomacy” lol that made me chuckle. Over all, good writing. The premise was interesting, not one I’ve read before so points there. Body Snatchers From Beyond The Grave lol

    A little more development would have been nice; a bit more of the descent or a bit more build up to it.

  6. Eeeew! Gross, Lmao….that sux,but soo awesome that the old creepy bastard will STILL be in a box when he steals his poor Grandsons bod…..Hahaha! That was such a cool ending-I’m impressed.

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