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The Gallery of Henri Beauchamp

Estimated reading time โ€” 5 minutes

If you go into this one tiny, dingy one-story bar in Paris, and the right bartender is behind the counter that night, you might be able to see a very exclusive gallery show of the lost works of one Henri Beauchamp. But, to get in, you have to prove you’re a devotee of the artist to get in.

You’ll be asked, in clear and perfect English, “What would like to partake of this glorious night?” Answer “absinthe,” no matter what. Any other drink, from whiskey to water, will kill you as you sleep.

The next question will regard the type, and you MUST answer one of two things: “The stuff that Man himself could not bear to take,” or, “The good stuff. The best stuff.” If you ask for any other absinthe, in any other way, you will be plagued by nightmares for 13 days. Each night’s dream will be more horrible than the last, until, upon the thirteenth dream, your nightmare will follow you, every moment of your waking and sleeping life. Don’t try and cheat the barkeep: the door locked behind you. You have to drink what he gives you, doom or not. That such a powerful man granted you audience should be enough. Besides, I’ve heard that the dying complimented his drinks in their death throes.

If you make it that far before sealing your fate, the bartender will say, “Be sure you handle this with care; this is the finest I have.” From here, you may do one of two things: Say, word for word, “I overestimated my fortitude, and I bid you good eve.”. If the barkeep nods, you may leave the door you entered, unharmed and with nothing gained and nothing lost (except the time spent inside).

Or you can go on. You will be given a glass with a seven-sided rim, with each side twisting ever so delicately around the basin until forming a sleek and simple handle. You will also receive a very, very, very special absinthe spoon, in the shape of a key; the holes at the key’s top serve as the draining point for the alcohol to pour over the sugar cube. And, of course, an unmarked bottle, stripped long ago of its label, scraps of paper sticking to its sides, covered in the rot of the decades past.

The spoon is completely flat, but has two distinct sides: one with a groove along the shaft of the key, and one without. Turn the shaft down, so its groove will be face down. If you attempt this face up, your absinthe will taste foul, your nose will burn, and your eyes will shrivel in their sockets with unspeakable horrors not of this world. Now, if your spoon is the right way up, begin preparing the absinthe as one would (put the sugar on the spoon, and pour the alcohol over so it gains its color and “special qualities”).

Say “cheers” to your friend, the barkeep, and bottoms up. If you don’t, the absinthe will burn every innard it touches with the power and pain of sulfuric acid.

If you’ve done it right, the already dim lights will go off, and darkness will consume the bar. Don’t be afraid; the darkness is the cue that you’ve been approved for the exhibit. Wait out the darkness, and keep silent as the dead, lest the bartender decide to make you so.

Eventually (not too long, two to three minutes), a green floodlight will shine brightly on a door on the far wall of the bar. The bar will be bathed in green, and not just from the floodlight. Little luminescent spheres will gently drift through the room, and the barkeep will no longer be there… nor any other unassuming patron inside before. There’s no danger by this point… consider it a safe point. If you didn’t finish the absinthe, you don’t have to, but you might need the alcohol. Either way, take the spoon and put it in the keyhole of the green-lit portal’s doorknob. It will fit perfectly, and reach the end of the keyhole with a resounding click.

Inside is a small elevator, with the most beautiful woman any mortal eyes can imagine, bathed in the green glow in just such an angle that the light refracts beyond her into the shape of wings.

The Green Fairy herself will ask you, “Going up?โ€, and considering all the trouble you went through, it would only make sense to say yes.

Now, you have one more hurdle to clear. She will ask you, as you cross the line from the bar to the compartment, “How would you compare Beauchamp’s surrealism to that of, say, Rene Magritte?” For your reply, you must say, “I’ve come to see more than art tonight.”

If you don’t, the green floodlight will blow out, the doors will slam shut, and the elevator will plummet through a seemingly infinite blackness before a real light grows brighter as the elevator nears the very depths of Hell. Now, if your elevator begins to go up, the green light will also fade, but in its place will be the cool glow of the moon. But, before you even recognize it, the elevator will reach the top of its… well, let’s call it a shaft to not get too intricate.

Now, I’m not as sure about this as the rest, but I’ve heard that, if the Green Fairy kisses you on the cheek as she leaves the elevator, you will always be blessed with a creative inspiration: a permanent, ever-changing muse. You can’t ask her, you can’t kiss her; she has to do it of her own volition. If not… well, nothing, but no reason to do it anyway and anger the woman who is responsible for keeping the Beauchamp paintings safe for so many years.

You will enter, from the elevator, a turn-of-the-century parlor, with a large poster of Henri Beauchamp on the left side of the opposite wall; on the right is a door.


Taking the time to read the poster is a fairly good idea, as it explains the very significance of Mr. Beauchamp. You see, he was a struggling surrealist in the 1920s, always making art to try to be free of all premeditation, and managed to do so. You see, after one night in a tiny, dingy one-story bar in Paris, he began to paint… patterns. First it was geometric patterns. Then complete fractals. Then images that would be in the newspaper the next day. Then next week. Then from fifty years ago. 100 in the future, 200 in the past…

Then, on his last night of life, he kidnapped three young girls from their homes at night, murdered them, and painted his finest masterpieces in reds and yellows with the blood and bile of virgins.

He committed suicide immediately after painting exactly 13 of these.

These are behind the door.

The first six, from the left, show, from left to right: the genesis of the universe, the only true visage of God as viewable to the eyes of man, the true image of Jesus Christ, the sprawling clouds of Heaven, every Pope from the first to faces not yet recognizable, and a portrait of Jesus’ appearance in his Second Coming.

The other six, on the right, show, from right to left: the cataclysmic of the universe, the only true visage of Satan as viewable to the eyes of man, the true image of Judas, the sprawling flames of Hell, every human-embodied demon from the first to faces not yet recognizable, and a portrait of the Antichrist in his Second Coming.

Now, six and six makes twelve. But what of the thirteenth?


This thirteenth painting is turned around on its wall pin, the image facing the wall. The space around it is roped up at a very wide diameter, and under the flipped image is a sign, in three languages. The top is in the scriptures of the seraphim, the bottom in the runes of the highest demonic orders, and in the middle, in Roman letters.




Now, like the kiss, I can’t say this part with as much certainty, but all the same… I heard that, somehow, as he died, Beauchamp flayed his skin, his organs, his very soul, into some sort of collage. How he took his dead body and created such a horrific masterpiece, I could never say, nor would I ever dare to.

So… if you make it, maybe you can flip the canvas over and tell me sometime? You can tell me about it over a drink.

CREDIT: Anonymous

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75 thoughts on “The Gallery of Henri Beauchamp”

  1. It has been months since I last (and first) read this story.

    That said, I honestly cannot stand how much time was spent describing the spoon.

  2. I don’t think you have to be Christian to enjoy this type of art. It is beautiful. I would try to see what happened, but I don’t think you should die if you don’t do something in such a way. That just sucks.

  3. To everyone who hates ritual pasta: I’ve got the ideal ritual for you!

    Go to a computer, any computer you can get yourself to. But it has to have internet connection and a supply of electricity. If it does not, all your attempts will be in vain.
    Turn it on. It will start up. Once it is done, click on an internet browser. It has to be an internet browser! If you try this with solitaire it will NOT work. You will be stuck playing cards for hours. So for the love of god do NOT turn on solitaire!
    The browser will open and at the top there will be a white bar. Enter the words If you type it in wrong, you will be forever lost in the vastness of the internet, so be careful!
    Take a look around. There will be many pastas and the delicious scent will lure you closer. You get yourself a plateful of one. One one will do. But take a close at the white bar at the top. Next to the words “You are here” there will be a message.
    If the message is Home>> Rites & Rituals, run! Run, drop this pasta and never pick it up again. For if you do: you will be forced to endure a pasta so terrible tasteless, so utterly disgusting that it will give you food poisoning for at least a few hours.
    If the message is anything other than that, move on. But be warned. There WILL BE sleepless nights.


  4. …. I don’t like how it doesn’t say what would happen if you touched the painting… do you automatically get sucked into hell? Does the painting come to life and eat your soul? Do you shit yourself to death on the spot out of fear?

    :/ Lots left to wonder.

    Plus… how do you get out? jump out the window? Break a wall? Ask to go to the roof from the elevator fairy? Ask to go back to the bar?

  5. Ah to bask in the enlightening visage of his thirteenth painting, I would have seen it for myself had I not fondled the Green Fairy.

  6. This had real potential but my god, what a boring ending! All that reading to be told we’d have to go turn this last painting around ourselves.

  7. that was icky. just another slasher ritual pasta. it brought nothing new or interesting and didn’t do a fantastic job being creepy. it was pretty well written I guess, but who cares. it still was random ritual garbage
    I want there to be a ritual that actually makes sense. if I’m gunna die from absinthe because I said the wrong combination of words, then there should be a damn good reason!!!

  8. Well that’s one dangerous bar… think about it: every tourist who just happens to wander in while this “special” bartender is on shift, will die never knowing what hit them simply because they ordered something other than absinthe… You’d think that would provoke some kind of police investigation, maybe…? :D

  9. absinthe will burn in any way possable, its 130 proof. says on its lable {drink with catioun} best way to do it ish eat something before you drink it, and dont let it touch your tounge. i tell you it will get you warm quick.

  10. Something creepy should stalk DJLoONa. Maybe then she’d like the stories and learn to appreciate them.

  11. Yummy pasta is yummy. I lol’d at all the people talking about the religious parts of this like it’s serious business. I’m not at all interested in organized religion, but I still thought that was an interesting touch to it.

    Anyway, as an artist(?), this is doubly interesting. God, I hate mental blocks- art, writing, anything.

    My personal theory? The thirteenth painting was his premonition of…well, Anon6’s comment kind of summed it up, except he didn’t write it. God no, he would never write something so terrible that would drive millions of innocent children to rotting minds and madness.

    In the gore left of those girls, he saw the first chapter of a future book. Maybe you’ve read it, maybe you haven’t. I certainly hope that you have not. With this knowledge, he could not live any longer. The painting is a simple black background with two pale hands outstretched to the onlooker, and a simple red apple in the middle.

    The author of this book series will continue on to write seven entries in the overtired so-called saga, with four of them being the same story from a different perspective. When this final book is released in two years, the world will come to an end.

    What have we as humans allowed to begin?

  12. Anonymous – I’m along for the ride! [:

    This was a pretty good pasta. Good writing, kept your attention.

  13. Lets all go find that bar at the same time and everyone who ever read this can try to go flip the painting. FIRST ONE TO FLIP IT GETS CANDY XD

  14. You don’t have to be a Christian to like this story.

    Creepy pasta was good. Loved this one and the ending (which requires a bit of thought) ;D

  15. Great story. The one change I would make is to reduce the ritual aspect. I’ve never been into ritual CPs, it brings up too many questions – how does the writer know what the “rules” are? How does he know what happens if you break them?

    If the writer knows what happens if you mess up the ritual, the writer must be omnipotent thus breaking the suspension of disbelief that this is just an instruction from an ordinary person.

    Also, the fact that there are so many phrases you have to memorize exactly makes the reader wonder what the point of making everything so difficult is for the haunted location, and again, how on earth the writer could possibly know how the whole ritual works, it’s all non-intuitive and every mistake instantly kills the person who makes the mistake.

  16. The idea was really interesting…but it was hard to get through. I agree there was too much detail, I felt like I was reading an owners manual.

    I was disappointed in the writing style as well. With an idea this surreal there were alot of avenues available to express it other thant the repetitive “You will do this or this will happen and then the bartender will do this”. It got boring.

    Also, almost every other sentence started with the same phrase (i.e. “You see”). Mix it up a bit and I’m sure it would flow alot better.

  17. I got to the part with the green fairy, but it kept freezing up on me. Anyone know a hack to get past that part?

  18. I SA YWE RISE AGAINST THE# SCUNT!!!!!!!!!! i meant,look at his name,it even says hes a pussy(cunt). RISE UP WITH YOUR PITCHFORKS AND KILL THIS TARDO…
    (angry mob does nothing)



    (angry mob runs faster than humanly possible ot try an kill scunt)

  19. snowden,this isn’t YouTube. We dont need that fucking retarted spam on this site! I really liked this one, it seemed like an interesting reward. To the guy that said it wasn’t worth it, the thing is with about 4 of the paintings, they are the closest thing you can get to seeing god or satan with the eyes of man, cause if you look at them normally then you die.

  20. @ 35
    Then L2 use the side bars. This site is organized that you can avoid the types of pastas that you don’t like, doofus.

  21. DJLoONa: You’re upset that every action has a consequence, but you have to admit that it’s a lot better than having to get through all these actions and nothing going wrong if you fail.

    And you don’t have to be christian to enjoy a good story, though the “final painting” seemed a little silly in my opinion.

  22. @ anonymous [sorry i didn’t see your comment there]

    no, that’s why it’s fiction…it doesn’t have to be plausible, but if it’s fiction attempting to be non fiction most of the time it doesn’t interest me.

  23. -rolls eyes at christobob-
    when we go to paris on our honeymoon and you’ve gone away without telling me then i’ll know why baby

  24. perhaps u lolled because it is a nonsensical scavenger hunt with too much to do and little reward…><

    what n e of these pictures show is of little relevance seeing as how they are long dead and no one will believe you n e way…

  25. Wow this is a compelling creepypasta, it’s just so detailed but never boring. It is also very easy to visualize the setting with such descriptive writing that it brings you to the scene, but less of that the story and execution was very good.

  26. =[
    irritating? meannie ><

    soz about the chatspeak n such…i just always type this way =S

    and there’s this little thing called an opinion, u like it and think it’s interesting, i personally don’t

    agree to disagree
    -shakes hands-

  27. DJ LoONa: I’m an atheist as well, and I love this story. Do you expect all fiction you read to be perfectly plausible and realistic?

  28. DJ, you are genuinely irritating.

    Occasionally you raise valid points, but your tendency to use chatspeak and the like generally overshadows any credit you may have gained.

    This pasta is long and ritualistic, yes, but it’s also interesting.

    That is all.

  29. 1. too long and too much shit to do…and everything has a consequence ‘do it exactly like this or a ghostie will come get u and then ull never see paintings and ull hav a shit life!’ oh no, so i wont get to see a pic of what judas rly looked like…DONT CARE!

    2. i’m an atheist…and even if i was christian the way jesus, the pope, judas etc. loox would mean nothing to me…unless the antichrist came in my lifetime -cough cough- george bush -cough-

    3. how the hell would i get out the building?…same elevator?

    4. after that much absinthe ur prly just imagining the rest of the night, u claim to see paintings but ur prly just passed out in a back alley LOL

    5. i don’t like this creepypasta…soz

    that is all

  30. I love art, I love surrealism, and I love this creepypasta. I wonder how you get out in the end, though. Oh, well.

  31. The big twist is that Henri Beauchamp killed himself because he painted a story with so many arbitrary and completely pointless pitfalls and byzantine counter-counter-countermeasure rituals that not even he could suspend disbelief until the end.

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