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Keep Walking



Estimated reading time — 6 minutes

The first thing you need to remember is to never turn around.  If you turn around, you’re dead.

It had been a long day at the office taking calls from China, sorting through endless stacks of paper, dozing off with my elbows on my clear glass desk. . . definitely time for coffee.  I sat up from my new wooden chair feeling stiff.  The office lounge was a floor up, and as I walked through the hallways I became increasingly aware that I was the only one left, other than the janitor, whose vacuum I could hear far off down another long hallway.  The elevator was shut down for the night to save power, which was when I realized it was past midnight, so I headed for the staircase on the opposite side of the building.

The first indication is silence, palpable and thick.

Sipping on my coffee I became increasingly aware of the silence.  The city never sleeps, and I know that on my drive home I will still get caught up in the bright lights and taxi cabs, but in that small, pale blue room with fake granite countertops and a fridge, which even then, was devoid of a buzz, was supremely silent.  It was crushing and deafening and only split open by the small sound of my careful slurps of coffee.
Feeling uncomfortable immersed in it , I finally decided to take the cup to go and head back to my office where I would switch on some internet radio and finish signing contracts for some hundred thousand dollar company transaction.  The janitor was gone about twenty minutes into my work, but I knew that through the web of security cameras there was a room where two fat men with bags of chips were watching my nightly progress and conversing about their wives or the latest playboy centerfold or maybe even both.

Then you begin to feel anxious.

The city was as bright as ever that night, and even at 1 A.M people lined the city streets between bars and clubs.  My phone rings.  It’s my wife.
“Hello?”
Theres no response, just a burst of static and feedback.  At the next stop light I decide to send her a text:
Hey babe. twenty minutes out. love you lots!
I look up.
Where am I.
The streets which were once familiar had become a maze of cement and steel.  A forest in which I was hopelessly lost.  My pulse quickens and my hair stands on end.  I keep driving.  It gets warmer in my car and the space on the back of my neck begins to itch.  I think I’m breaking out on my cheeks.  I pull up to another stop light and decide to check my sanity.  I pull down the mirror and see my red face beading up with sweat.  I wiped it on my sleeve and gaze into my eyes which are dilated and darting in place.

Soon things just change.

I flip the mirror back up, and now I’m in an industrial and very unfamiliar part of town.  It’s like blacking out except when I think about it, the memories are vivid.  Every right and left turn, every light, every face on the side of the road.  God it must be a trend today with the younger generation.  All their faces seemed so similar in memory and the black clothing blends together until a single black suit covers them all in the pictures in my head.
God I’m so fucking lost in this city.  I decided to pull over and ask for directions next to a small cafe up ahead.  I pull up to the curb and get out but I notice that the cafe isn’t as crowded as I thought it was, in fact it’s quite empty.  But no matter, I thought I would just walk down the road til I found some young suited to ask for directions.  But as crowded as it was up to this point, I can’t find anyone.
My phone buzzes… I look down.. my phone never buzzed… I’m now somewhere on the edge of town.  Now I am panicking because I remember so vividly the faces…. so many faces… and the turns and the walking and the soreness in my bones because I had come so far.  The streetlights here are dimmer, and trees are beginning to creep up behind the buildings.

Don’t look back.

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I turn in my confusion and I see all those faces… but they aren’t many, they are one.  One face, one lanky man in a suit, with arms reaching down to its knees which already seam four feet off the ground.  His fingers twinge and the shadows of them stretch across asphalt toward me, and as they draw closer the streetlights get darker and then are gone.
I turn to run, now I am in the sea.  A sea of trees, green and moving but making no noise at all.  Not a single rustle of leaves through the wind or a twig snap under my feet, just a small drum beat getting faster and faster as I walk… no run, through the trees.

He is everywhere.

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Where the fuck am I?  Where is he?  I can feel him looking at me from every single direction but he is swallowed by the darkness and all I can hear is my heart beating and the hum of the wind as it passes through the hair by my ear.  I keep telling myself to never look back.  Never even hesitate.  Keep moving.  Then I fall and I’m face down in a pile of twigs.  He is on top of me, I can feel his cool breath on the back of my neck, but I have to keep running.  I can’t resign and I can’t look back.  I can’t take in what’s fast on my heels because I know I cant fight.

Soon you will find the messages.

I’m losing my breath.  My lungs are bleeding I could swear it and my heart was becoming less of a drum beat, and more of a vibration in my chest.  That’s when I notice the warm wetness on my arm and there, inscribed in my forearm and burning:
Keep running.
I remember writing it.  I remember seeing him in the woods ahead and frantically writing it with the twig I grabbed earlier when I fell.  I remember how excruciating the pain was as the twig splintered in my skin and the blood poured from my veins.
Don’t get cornered.

Up ahead, theres a building, I can make it there.  I can do it.  It’s not too far off, and there is a dim light eminating from the doorway in it’s side.  I use the last bit of my energy to get there, praying that someone else will be there.  Someone human because he was everywhere.  Chasing me silently.  Suddenly breathing on my neck then suddenly two feet to my right or my left.
I finally broke into the doorway but quickly realized nothing in this building makes sense.  Its a two sided maze of corridors which are completely empty and the sound of my breathing echoes into both of them.  I’m faced with the decision to go right or left for my salvation but before I can decide I am quickly hobbling left.

The totems, they move.

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The corridor is narrow and pale blue with tile lining parts of the walls.  It twists and turns endlessly and things are making less and less sense.  In here the air is even thicker than outside and the smell is near putrid in some places.  I think I could hear rats scurrying in the shadows where the lights don’t reach.  I see a small wooden chair.  A bit out of place, and it looks antique and clean contrasting with the overall dinginess of the labyrinth.  It is just about a perfect chair except for one small detail, an S painted roughly in black on it’s stool.
He’s still behind me.  His lanky arms reaching for me.  I look down at my bleeding wrist and the message still reads clearly Keep running.
Soon I reach an off stretch where the lights are dim and stop at the end in an odd, rectangular room.  I’m cornered.  I’m alone with him.  I buckle at the knees staring at the dead end and begin to claw my way into the farthest corner.  Tears stream down my face, and I make the mistake of blinking them away for when I look up again, it is before me.  That antique chair with the black S sits in the corner of the room.

The last thing you need to know, is that there is no escape.  You must give in.  You must give yourself over in resignation.  If you don’t, the nightmare will continue and the blue walls will swallow you up.

I’m broken and hopeless.  My bleeding arm is wrapped around the back of the stool while my body slumps over onto the ground.  A familiar noise enters the room, it’s the same feedback from the phone when I thought my wife called.  Except my wife never called me and my phone never rang.  It was him.  It was always him.  All those people were him.  The janitor was him.  This coffee lounge was him.  This room is him.  And this chair, the same chair in my office, is him.  He is everywhere.  He is divine.  He is reaching down for me now.  My eyes are moving up to him now.  He is breathing on me now.  I’m staring at him now.  He has no eyes, but I feel him glaring.  No nose but I can tell he is sniffing.  No mouth but I know he is screaming.

He is like staring into a blackhole.  He almost seems to rip away your soul.
He is nothing, but everything.
There and not.
and there is only one thing I can say clearly about him without a doubt;
he is very tall and very slender.

Credit To: Colin Alexander

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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.

75 thoughts on “Keep Walking”

  1. this is a stupid and confusing story. anything that remotely mentions slenderman is not always some masterpiece. i gave up reading the rest after he gets out of his car. he apparently went to the break room to get high!

  2. This isn’t a bad story, but I’m basically at the point where if I reach a part in a creepypasta where the monster is revealed to be Slenderman, I stop reading it entirely. There are just SO MANY OF THEM. So many. It’s a bit maddening. Someone should write a parody pasta about every piece of creepypasta on earth gradually becoming Slendy pastas until it drives them insane. Now THAT would be a relatable pasta…

  3. Honestly, this was great up until the part SLENDERMAN. Really, I’m starting to get annoyed at black suits and blank faces Jesus Christ. I had hope for this story.

  4. Your writing is pretty good. Try and make something up yourself. Then you wont get low ratings. Some people downgrade pastas the moment they realise that it’s about Slenderman.

    9/10 for the wriTing and not mentioning him by name

  5. You can’t run. You can’t escape. Even if you get rid of me one time, I will chase you. To the death. I’m the dark. The fear. The evil. I am nothing. But everything.

  6. I’m so tired of stories about the devil and demons! The devil can rot in hell! And “The Teacher”? What a delusional joke. God doesn’t use damned demons to HELP PEOPLE! They are completely USELESS, worthless and have NO power over GOD’S people and NEVER WILL!!!!

    1. Didn’t God send Lucifer to hell so that he will rot there? Wasn’t that the point of sending him to hell? And aren’t the point of demons to scare people from sinning? So actually, every creature that God made, i.e. demons, angels, and humans, have purpose. And what right do you have to trash His work like that? What, you go to church, you’ve read the bible, you claim to be a Christian and that gives you every freakin’ right to the whole damn universe? I think not. When you study theology for 4 years, go across the world to study the Lord’s teachings, and repent every sin you have ever committed, then you can talk to me about how useless demons are. Until then, keep your nose stuck in a bible. Please and thank you.

      1. I the Bible, Isaiah uses “Lucifer, son of the morn” and “fallen from Heaven” to refer metaphorically and/or sarcastically to the then-king of Babylon, not to the Devil. “Lucifer” means “light-bringer” or “light-bearer” and refers to the sun. (The “Today’s English Version” of the Good News Bible actually has Isaiah say, “King of Babylon, bright morning star, you have fallen from Heaven!”) John Milton is responsible (at least in part) for popularizing the misnomer.

    2. Since when is this story about demons, or God? All I see in the story is a tall, thin monster. (Kudos to the author, very well written.)

  7. I’m so tired of stories about the devil and demons! The devil can rot in hell! And “The Teacher”? What a delusional joke. God doesn’t yse demons to HELP PEOPLE! They are completely USELESS, worthless and have NO power over GOD’S people and NEVER WILL!!!!

  8. I’m getting pretty sick and tired of people saying they hate well-written Slenderpastas JUST because they’re Slenderpastas. How is that in any way fair? If it’s creepy, it’s creepy. And for at least some readers, it’s creepy. The way some of you people act in the comments of these particular creepypastas is like spoiled, stubborn children, I swear. You guys sound like a bunch of hipsters too – "waah, Slenderman is popular now so I hate it there’s too much Slenderman stuff waaah!" Really? If you hate it, then you don’t have to read it. Stop weighing people down with your negative comments – for every one of you sick of the Slenderman, there’s someone else who just got into it and actually WANTS to read these stories. Show a little respect to your fellow creepypasta fans. If saying all that gets me downvoted, so be it, but it had to be said. And every one of you knows it had to be said.

    Now to the pasta. One word: Harrowing. There’s nothing creepier to me than having something be just behind your back, breathing down your neck… and then not being there when you look. It’s tormenting, taunting… it messes with your head. That line about how he could be behind you one second and then two feet away to the side the next actually gave me shivers.

    All in all, I think this was very well-written, and definitely brings new introspection to the game Slender. You managed to take a game that’s become played to death and made it actually have meaning again. I think the beginning could have been slightly better written, but the ending bits in the forest are good and the writing is of good quality. It drew me in from the start and kept hold until the end. So, I like it. :)

    Now watch everyone spam me with a thousand downvotes because they hate the fact that I like something that got popular.

    1. They think there are too many Slenderman stories on this site, but they must be reading them from newest to oldest (unlike me) because I see these comments all over the OLD Slender stories.

  9. Hmm… Read the part about his wife never calling, it was Slender Man all along, and the buzzing was him… then my music in my headphones sputters, starts skipping and then switches to the next song. That’s weird… especially cause I had a nightmare about Slender Man last night, and I woke up with a bloody nose… hmm… it sucks to be a young girl.

  10. The story isn’t bad nor perfect. It has its own positives and negatives but in general i like it.
    I’m not going to say it sucks just because its a slender creepypasta.

  11. u couold write more about slender man. i dont care if other people are sick of it, they can simply scroll over the story. i, on the other hand, am extremely fascinated in slender man reads. real or not, he’s an intriguing character :)

  12. Thank you everyone for all the comments both positive and negative! I’m working on something else and I won’t be releasing the sequel until the Slender hype dies.

  13. i love you. i love …this pasta.

    it’s just perfect. i just i don’t even. i don’t even.

    no eyes.he sees you.

  14. I like this because it’s like a prequel to the slender game, being that since the husband is lost, his wife went looking for him finding his notes and being studied by slender, nice work!

  15. I can’t believe people said,”I knew it was slenderman,” it’s fucking tagged as Slenderman. Honestly.

    Well written but, if you’ve got the talent to write, think of your own oogey boogey man.

  16. Hello, my name is Scarlett and I work with a group called Whispers into Nothingness. We are working on a non-profit YouTube channel of the same name which will narrate nosleeps, creepypasta, and stories from around the web that will keep you awake at night. I read your stories ‘Keep Walking’ and wondered if I might have permission to have someone in my group narrate them. Of course we will properly credit and link you in not only the video descriptions but the video in itself as well as send you a link the day your stories are uploaded. I hope to hear back from you. Thank you, Scarlett

    P.s. Can you please send your response to the email I have proved as soon as possible. I would enjoy being able to use it in my Friday release.

  17. It wasn’t that scary. I’m glad it was a slenderman pasta not based on the game, but it still wasn’t that good.

    1. You think I’m not scary. But I am. I am everything. I am everything in the dark. I’m in the forest. In the dark. Waiting for others, and others.

  18. Another SLENDER EVERYWHERE Pasta, Jeez this pisses me off and i just lost it after ‘Then you begin to feel anxious.’

  19. Yeah! Slederman is a game. so don’t ever write anything about it ever, or reference anything about the original slederman. Thats not original. I knew it was a slederman pasta as soon as i read the title. all the characters in previous slederman pastas walked. That threw me the fuck out of the story immediately. Since August ive read 316 and counting slederman pastas. i just gave you 27 extras points if you wouldn’t have used the pronoun I. Another tic mark against the author was the fact that this didn’t even creep me the fuck out like Jeff the Killer does. I raise all my fingers to bitchslap the fuck out of the author and him extended family for giving him the confidence to write something on the world wide ethernet.

    Slenderman

    1. Contrary to popular belief, The Slender Game was inspired by Slender Man, not the other way around. First sightings began in Germany, with Der Ritter.

  20. Very well written. Knew it was a Slendy pasta right from the get go, but still very nicely done. The being everywhere, everything, and everyone piece was a nice touch. 4.5/5 my friend.

  21. big plot hole that completly pulled me right out of it. He had a working phone when he was lost. Assuming a modern setting, why walk for directions when he could google maps?

      1. I believe the original slender man legend said he only went after children. I think it went that children would have strange dream that parent would dismiss, then they would start to see him during the day, then eventually the children disappear.

        Could be wrong though…

  22. Now that…that was a pretty damn good Slenderman pasta. The beginning could have been written differently, but the ending is pretty awesome; Slenderman the omnipotent, the merciless and merciful, the black pit of nothing and the expanse of everything. Brilliant.

  23. slendemanisgettingold

    i wish people would take it easy with the slendy pastas. plus you obviusly didnt know about him untill the game because you referance it several times. well written, but a worn out topic

  24. …I’m not exactly creeped out by anything/one who takes the time to put on a suit and tie. 6/10 for decent righting etiquette and solid effort. Too bad it wasn’t creepy. An extra point if you hadn’t put ‘don’t look back’

  25. I first new it was a slenderman story when he said “until a single black suit covers them”. I then thought it was a slender game story when it said “Soon you will find the messages.” But I like that it didn’t take the rubbish way out and do that, but I liked it. Kudos.

    MH.

    1. Slender man goes after anyone as long as they have seen him or he has seen them, but he specificly goes for children.

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