The Letters
| Published on Creepypasta.com | July 2008 |
|---|---|
| Length | 368 words · about 2 minutes to read |
| Story level | Micro |
| Reader rating | 8.2/10 from 483 votes |
| Category | Deaths, Murders, and Disappearances |
You were out of town for the weekend. When you came back to your apartment, your mailbox was stuffed full. At least 30 letters. Letters with no return address, several of them felt soggy and heavy, as though they were recently wet, or perhaps contained a liquid. All of the letters have your name and address written on them, and many of them had your name scratched all over them in red in. They don’t smell nice, they smell like rotting meat and old garbage and you’re reluctant to take them back to your room, but curiosity gets the better of you. You manage to cart them all back to your room, you dump them in your kitchenette sink because you don’t want them smelling up the rest of the apartment.
You grab one that doesn’t seem damp and isn’t covered with writing, and open it up. There’s pictures inside. Pictures of people you don’t know, with their eyes torn out, teeth missing, unhinged jaws hanging open, throats ripped out. You’re horrified and yet you can’t help but wonder what’s in the rest of the letters. You open more, and more to discover increasingly gruesome photos of dead people. Piles of bodies with limps missing, splayed open corpses on operating tables with their vital organs removed, hanged bodies that have been gutted and bled dry. Some of the soggy letters had blood and other fluids in them.
The more letters you open, the more you notice that not all of the people are strangers. Some of them were people you see at work, others people you went to high school with. By the time you get to the last few letters, the pictures are of the mutilated bodies of your close friends and family members.
Eventually you reach the last letter. You don’t want to know what’s in it, but it’s not like you have a choice now. You peel the letter open, and it’s a picture of yourself. Not dead, eyes intact, no limbs missing. It’s a picture of you entering your apartment building earlier that day, shortly before you collected your disgusting letters.
As you hear a door elsewhere in your apartment open, you black out.
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This was good, but I want to say that there are too many junk pastas on this site.
That is some freaky mail that he got.
very good story, i am not opening any letters anytime soon…..
awesome story, now im hesitant to open my mail box now….
After that first spew of photos, I would take them to the cops.
I kind of agree with the folks questioning the logic of the black out. People panic, scream, run away, grab weapons or do any number of things when they are frightened, but short of seeing the devil himself appear before you, I can’t see blacking out as being near the top of the list of possibilities.
Also, I’ve seen this said on other pastas on this site: Don’t write the story so that the reader is the person in the story. For some people this makes it more scary because they place themselves in the shoes of the person in the story, but anyone can do that anyway if the want. Most folks dislike this style of writing, since they don’t want to be TOLD what they would do in a given situation.
In this case, I think most people would like to image they would choose a more productive course of action than passing out…
*Good thing*