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I’ll be waiting

Estimated reading time — 2 minutes

You don’t know me. No one knows me. Only Master knows of my existence. But Master and I know all of you. We visit all of you, my friends, during the witching hour.

I’m never there during the day. The sun’s rays penetrate my shadowy soul and obliterate my flesh. My bones turn to ash and my organs become dust. Daytime in one place is nighttime in another though, so Master and I always are traveling. Never in one place for too long.

After the sun has died and the moon lives again, I come. I’ll get close up to you and breathe in the scent of your life. I listen to your heartbeat and breathing. Master then starts work on you, putting one finger on your forehead and whispering Latin words. You always end up squirming or screaming. Master calls them nightmares. I always want to comfort you, hold you close. But I can never touch, not ever. Master tells me never to touch.

I’ve learned not to touch. Master hurt me badly, and my skin, my scarred, sensitive skin, has paid the price. But sometimes I can’t help myself. When Master isn’t looking, I strike. I brush my fingernails down your arms, trace your lips, comb your hair away from your face. But my skin kills your kind, breaks the blood vessels, bruises your body in mysterious ways you can never figure out. I’m sorry, I really am. I just can’t help myself. I want to show you how much I love you.

When Master and I are done with you, I always remember to take a souvenir. Usually it’s something small that you won’t notice is missing, like a coin or a pen, snatched up from behind Master’s back. But sometimes you don’t have very much. When that happens, I take something else, with Master’s permission of course. Hair. Nails. Eyelashes. A part of you. And it will always be mine.


I hope to see you tonight. But if you don’t fall asleep, we’ll have a problem. Master says I can’t let you see me. If you see me, our friendship will be over. And I’ll have to kill you. I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to see the blood seep through your bedsheets. I don’t want to see your face as you scream at the sight of me. My deformed skin. My scars. My love for you.


But maybe, deep down inside, just a little bit, I do. I am Master’s child, afterall.

Sweet dreams, darlings. I’ll be waiting for you.

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32 thoughts on “I’ll be waiting”

  1. PulseoftheFallen

    Nice micro-pasta, it proves that you don’t always need mega-pastas to satisfy people’s “loose” imagination. ;)

  2. cyber sub-zero

    Great pasta. I have 1 problem though the, for lack of a better term, hero of the story takes pens, coins, and objects behind “Master’s back”, but gets permission to take parts of the person?

    Regardless, have an ice day!

    1. While I’m not the author of the story, I think it’s because stealing small objects that people won’t even notice missing is of no consequence to the Master, where as it was stated that touching is strictly not allowed – hence requiring permission to take a part of the subject as a souvenir :)

  3. Ivy Salamander

    wow it gave me the chills! it was a real good creepypasta (i may have some trouble sleeping today but that means this pasta was cool~!)

  4. I read this and it’s 9:27 pm here and I’m liked so creeped out. It makes my adrenaline rush, this is great.

  5. I read this and it’s 9:27 pm here and I’m liked so creeped out. It makes my adrenaline rush, this is great.

  6. Ilyssa DeHerrera

    I’m gonna pretend to sleep, and wait. Hopefully something does come, I need some adventure. ^.^

  7. Very well done. My biggest issue with the story was the constant mention of the ‘Master’, it had me picture Igor, and I struggled to take the pasta seriously after envisioning the entire story to be read in his voice.

  8. hollygolightlee

    This is open to many interpretations. I’m just glad I read this at 12 noon, instead of 12 midnight. Well down creepy writer!

  9. 9/10. This was nice but a little overdone. The “I’m the thing that you see moving at night outside your window thing.” I’ve just heard stories like this before however, this is still pretty scary to imagine that every time you close your eyes, something is literally staring at you because that is its job.

  10. CreepyFrenchie

    Nice pasta, definitely instilled the essence of creepiness into this pasta. Satisfying until the end.
    Great job, man it’s not everyday where I look upon a nice creepy short.

    Pasta Score


  11. Michael Gilbert

    A nice little bit of microfiction. I do like a creepy story that incorporates those little things like waking up with a bruise and makes them eerie.

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