Please wait...

Share this creepypasta on social media!

πŸ“… Published on September 6, 2012


Written by

Estimated reading time β€” 10 minutes

I know this may seem abrupt and rude but I saw you through the window. I let myself in to share a tale with you. Don’t be frightened, I just felt that I might spare a moment of your time. You see, I need to unburden myself to you. I know that you know–some call me a creation of madness, of magic, a beast, a monster, a wraith… that may be so, but at this moment you may call me an acquaintance. My name is Yes, I see you standing there trembling as you are. I smell your fear and I know that you also pissed yourself and it’s running down your disgusting legs. And I see that you do know as I stand here with you–I am fully enthralled with thoughts of a sinful nature or fulfillment of filthy grotesque demonic fantasies…

To tell you the truth, I have no pity for humanity. I think you should just forget what you think you know! You know nothing! You are only familiar with a grand facade and we hide well the evidence of our comings and going. You should know that there is a bit of reality within ancient myth and folklore. Truth, within your dreams and superstitions. We take what we want, when we want it. In your human minds we are the things that linger just beyond the edge of the light. And as though we were never there; We hide within your own shadows. How else do you think I got into this room? We enjoy twisting reality and bending your wills to us. There is a darkness that is beyond your understanding. There is a place where shadows are made from the essence of evil that has no boundaries. I’ve slept in the quiet there and from it I gained stealth. Using this is how I let myself in. We can’t be seen moving silently through windows, through walls; creeping death with blood thirsty visceral fixations. And then we open veins! Vermilion rains, cascading and gushing like macabre and morbid fountains!

It’s a treasure to behold! How horrid a sight it must be to see us wearing their life blood. The faces of darkness just before they die grimly grinning through bared demonic teeth. Child, there are evil laughing immortals en-cloaked in blood and blackness everywhere.
When dawn comes we fly as a vapor away into the abyss and back to our home that which is hell. And yes there is a hell. It is a place between your dimension and ours, but we can exist in all dimensions. You see, I have no soul or humanity left within this illusion of flesh? I have no spirit; for the most part you could say… I am a spirit, albeit a dark one… And no I am not a ghost or specter. I am an eidolon. I am a thing that should not be, and I’m an adopted child of the Grigori.

The Grigori are the beings that the holy men call The Watchers. They are the angels turned demons that were cast down out of heaven. I am not a true Grigori. They are far more ancient than I am and they are far more powerful. For eleven hundred and seventy five years I have been as I am now. Others that are like me, have been here since the very beginning of the creation of the universe and everything in it. You may call me an unfortunate, for I had humanity once and lost it through human curiosity. But I have learned to love my transformation and embrace the power and even my hunger!

Don’t you see? Human bodies are just like clay jars. They contain an immortal essence that is devoid of human understanding or comprehension. You call it spirit but really have no idea what spirit is or what spirit does. My essence is now trapped between a state of life and death simultaneously. It was horrible what happened to me but you learn to accept what you are–over time. If you’re wondering how I came to be this way, it came about from accepting old magic and the shedding of a little blood. At one time, I was a man and I loved my life as a man. I was a writer, a scholar, a craftsman and farmer and I had a wife and children. This accursed existence was brought about by my folly and acceptance of unspoken practices. The knowing of the forbidden intrigued me and haunted me and this was true from the time I was a boy, until I grew to be a man. Even now in darkness I ponder those things.

I had a lust for ancient mystical objects and texts and found wonder in the devices of their dark and wondrous rituals.
It happened that a tome of considerable length came into my possession. It was housed within a local monastery that had been there for countless ages. I would go there often to read other sacred words by candle light in those darkened catacombs. I felt comforted there amongst the ancient books. One day I stumbled across this leather bound book by accident. It was hid just beneath a shelf I had been thumbing through and it stuck out, just enough for me to see a bright red letter “G”. It was as though fate wanted me to find this book and in doing so it changed my destiny and my life forever. Intrigued by this bright red letter “G” I pulled the book free and examined it and cleaned the cover of dust. This book appeared to be made out of some sort of pale, soft leather and the words were written in a deep shade of red; bold and emblazoned across the front cover was the word “Grigori”. I raised the cover to read the opening page to find the preface was a poem written in Latin. The words peaked my interest, so I hid the book among my own things and stole it away from the library.

Nos descende, et pulverulenta luteo cum sordidus coccino maculata dentes!

Velimus accipere, accumsan corpora iaculari;

Immortalitatem constant vitam tempore, sed mortalitatis est cheap!

Lupis ovium destruentes et daemoniorum?

Which translates into:

“We the down and dusty dirty with grimy, crimson stained teeth!

Take what we want, and throw the bodies on the heap!

Immortality cost a life time, but mortality is cheap!

Demons be the wolves and the destroyers of the sheep!”

Whoever or whatever had penned those lines had meant what they had written–in that deep shade of red.

One night, I started reading those cryptic esoteric verses and discovered that this tome was indeed different from any other. I had thought that this manuscript held rituals to bring forth demonic forces to do the readers bidding. Little did I know that, that was my misinterpretation of the words, but I was oblivious to the danger. My interest grew and grew, until I could no longer contain curiosity. I decided to try to invoke the demons with no understanding of the peril that eventually befell me. Because I wanted to quench my thirst for knowledge and I wanted to know What was beyond this existence, and in doing so, I doomed myself to more than mere possession.

I did as the ritual told me. I made the many symbols as instructed on the floor. I lit four candles placing each one in the direction of the four winds. I also fasted for 30 days before this only drinking consecrated water and eating tiny portions of holy unleavened bread.
When I had everything as it was supposed to be, I spoke aloud the incantation:

“Dicam quod a principio venit ad me priorem.
Adducam tibi, quae nosti sapientiam.
Me geram, ut scientia Dei possit esse aliquid abs te esse immortalem.
Haec mando vobis, ut de me ut signaculum sacrificium offero.

Roughly translated it means.

“I will say from the outset of the previous one that came before me.
I bring to you, which gives the wisdom to know.
That you may give me knowledge and I shall hold it to be a god and to be able to be made by you as an immortal.
These things I command you, and the sacrifice I offer of myself is to be as a seal… blessed be”

I recited this three times but nothing had happened. No signs or wonders; no magic, no mysticism. I sat on the floor and waited for hours and still nothing happened. I had done something wrong, so I gave up and promised myself that I would leave well enough alone. I had no idea that I had awoken a beast and there was no way on earth or in hell that I could put it back to rest. I found out much too late that the beast was not it’s own entity but a part of me that had became detached and transfigured. I had unleashed the darkest side of my essence.

The next few nights I sat fearful and transfixed. My love seeing my restlessness asked to walk with me that evening. So she and I went walking into the warmth of that summer night. We could see clearly because he moon hung high above us. As we ventured on I remember feeling as cold as death. A feeling of impending doom washed over me, and I shivered to the bone. She held tight to my hand and we walked on further into the night. The brightness of the moon went behind the clouds and the clouds covered what was once an empty sky. Moments passed and she and I, intertwined in our passion did not notice that we were being watched. From out of the pitch black of the night something quickly snatched her from my arms from out of the darkness. She momentarily clasped tighter to my fingers–and then she was gone. In the distance I could hear the sound of her screaming and then only silence.

Hurried and frantic I threw on my clothes; I then screamed her name into the dark. But there was nothing but quiet… horrible quiet… Running quickly back to our home or what was once our home. I found my resting children had been murdered in their sleep. Their tiny bodies in lifeless pieces strewn across the floor in pools of thick crimson. Fearing for my own life I searched for a weapon to protect myself. I grabbed the only thing I could find which happened to be a long pole that I used for hauling buckets from the well. I stepped out of the door and then something foul sprang upon me. Its weight toppled me and knocked me hard into the ground. I stood up as quickly as I could to my feet and tried to keep my wits about me. It stalked around me in the dim light of the moon; making low grinding noises deep within it’s throat… It stopped it’s pacing and stood for a moment; sniffing at me like a rabid dog. I yelled in its direction. I think I even called on God to remove the vile thing from my sight, but it did nothing.

I held aloft the great pole, and warned it of my intentions. And as I was just about to destroy the beast, it jumped forward and again knocked me to the ground. It laid on me, pressing me against it and breathed hard in my face. The smell of rotting death filled the air and I could hear it’s teeth clicking together as it bit gleefully at my face. It held me fast as I tried to free myself but the more I tried, the harder it pushed me into the unforgiving ground. It was then that I could tell by the light of the moon the shape of the beast. Its body seemed to be no more than a shadowy mist in humanoid form, but it felt as solid of the ground it held me tightly to.

I tried to push it off of me and then it leaned over and whispered into my ear–a metallic grinding utterance, “Once you open the gate, it can never be closed! Once you enter it you can never leave! Once you are ours, you are always ours! Now be still and accept your fate!”
It then reared its head back and bit deep into my shoulder and tore at my flesh. And as quickly as it had bitten me, it released me and laughed as it faded away into a thick luminous fog that evaporated over then permeated my body. I lay on my back for hours it seemed and I prayed to myself for death to take me quickly but death eluded me. That is when I fell into a deep, dead sleep.

When I woke, I found that I had been moved and was now in a strange room. Excluding a few candles it remained dim and I was lying on a cold stone floor. I moved to a sitting position and quickly surveyed the room. There was a door and a table and chair but nothing else.
Suddenly the doors opened and a young girl come into the room wearing a long blue robe trimmed in black and she wore a mask that looked like that of butterfly’s wings. To me it sounded like millions of tiny rain drops as she made her way toward me caring a covered tray. She left it on the floor beside me and then left me alone. I lifted the lid and a familiar scent filled my nostrils. When seeing what it was I threw it on the floor and yelled for help, but no one came. It was tray of raw human flesh. They left me alone for quite sometime. Occasionally the young girl brought me flesh, and I fought and fought my hunger until eventually I gave in. I didn’t know how long I had been in that room. All I remember of that time is the new hunger and a growing need to feed. It was not a vampiric need but a carnal and instinctive need. Giving into it is what you see as you stand shocked and frightened here with me and I am the end result.

My last day in that room a tall thin man wearing a gray cloak entered in and came to stand beside me. And before him as he walked I could hear the sounds of an invisible orchestra playing music. He walked to me and offered me his hand and as I took it, he says very calmly in deep resonant tone, “So you are the keeper and reader of the Grigorical Tome?” In bewilderment I told him that I wasn’t a “keeper” of anything and how I came about owning the damned book. He stopped me and he continued, “Did you not complete a ritual created by we; those cast down by God? Our children the Nephilim were to keep the tome and only they could possess it’s power. Because you read aloud those words you are now one of us. You have given up your mortality and humanity. Welcome to what you might have once called “hell”. Soon you will meet our master and the rest of us. We have such wonderful things to show you! My name is Amdusias! I am controller of twenty-nine legions of Pandemonium. Now come with me! I will show you to the others. Today is a great day for us and for you. Today is the celebration of your rebirth!” After saying this, he let his cloak fall, revealing to me his true form. Then he lead me down a long hallway into the darkness and I have never really looked back.

And that leads us to the moment at hand. I can see you’re wondering if I am going to leave and let you alone. I’m not very sorry to tell you that now you know the truth about us and our grand illusion–you are doomed! I entered here to feed and I cannot let you live…


Grigori “I Am Damned!”

Benjamin J. Branham Β© 2003-2010

Rate this story:

Please wait...

Share this creepypasta on social media!

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.