You’re in a strange room. You don’t remember how you got there, but you know that you don’t necessarily need to be there. As such, you decide it would be a good idea to leave. You turn around, and find yourself in an enclosed garden with a single row of orange trees on the left, and a single row of apple trees on the right. Behind you, a door covered with locks. Since you have no keys, you head down the only direction available to you.
You walk down the small dirt path, looking forward into the nothingness that awaits you at the end of the path. The fruit becomes more luscious with each step you take. You sniff the air, taking note of the lovely smells as they seem to call out to you. Although it is beckoning you to come forward and
sample some of this beautiful harvest, you feel as though you should know better than to take anything from these trees and decide against it.
You consider turning back, and as you walk towards the end of the path, the fruit starts to return to its previously pleasant shape, color and smell. It’s as though no time has passed from when you were at the beginning of the path and this point, which puzzles you for some reason. As you continue walking down, you notice that your hands are turning into shrinking husks and that it’s getting harder to breathe through your nose. You decide to return to the start, where you “entered”, and your hands start returning to normal.
The fruit starts shriveling up as you walk past each tree. Each apple turning from their once beautiful, luscious, full redness into a dry, desecrated gray. Each orange losing its peel as it shrinks to the point
where the juices are squeezed out of the center, leaving a husk with dried, rotten fruit lying on the inside.
Suddenly, one of the apple trees loses its bounty instantly. All the fruit withers into a deep black, nearly purple shadow of its former glory. The apples fall with a thud onto the ground, and it gets sucked into the soil, leaving no holes or marks to show where they had gone. The oranges go next,
the juice no longer seeping out slowly. They squash into themselves, releasing a violent spray of what looks like clear oil into the air.
You head back towards the beginning of the path with earnest now, not bothering to look back at the trees. You don’t have to. You can hear the life squeezing out of them, hitting the ground with a thud and drawing back into the soil hard and fast. The damage done to your body is reversing quickly, and you notice several improvements appearing as well. Your fat is slipping off, defects in your skin fall away like stone being chiseled away at by a sculptor, and you start breathing in more deeply; as though you could never get enough. You run faster towards the locked door.
While your improvements take effect, you slowly notice that the apples are all but gone, and the oranges have all disappeared. As the last one goes into the ground, the first of the orange trees dives into the ground. You stop at this, and the trees seem to call out your name. They scream bloody
murder, echoing in your head. Your legs return to motion, slightly wobbling with each threat slung directly at you. The voices shrink with the trees, but for some reason they continue coming on faster as though they were multiplying their ranks each second.
You finally reach the door. As you pry the locks open with your newfound superhuman strength, you turn to see a giant, rotted log careening down the path right at you. Hurriedly, you attempt to rip off another lock, fumbling with the smaller ones. You can hear the thudding of the log as it calls for
your head, hitting the ground hard and lifting into the sky each time as it bounces towards you. The final lock comes off as the log is forming a great shadow over your body, tumbling down.
You exit the orchard, and the log comes down with a crash. As you run from that place, you look back to see the splintered mess that now prohibits entry or exit from that depleted garden of death. You start running towards the brightest light you can see… and fall face first into a furnace, pitchforks raised and ready to escort you into your final resting place for all eternity. The small, hideous fiends rake at your body, rending the flesh off every piece of your body until it resembles the desecrated log.
As a final act of anger, the imps defecate upon your charred corpse, filling it with seething hatred and a burning desire for revenge. Taking your now completely destroyed body, they return to the orchard, and you can feel yourself being buried in a vacant spot. You remember seeing many of these, and as the final patch of dirt is placed, the demons light the ground with unholy flames. Right on the spot, your body grows into a hideous tree, along with the others that you had destroyed in order to escape your unholy prison. After all the trees were regrown, you sprout apples on your many arms.
As you see the demons leave, locking the door, you see your next victim fall from the burning sky into the orchard…
This pasta was credited to one “Joreal Conners” in the submission email.
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56 thoughts on “The Orchard”
I knew it! It’s the garden in Hades.
no scry kinda boring but i really think it is hell…
I think there is a lot of potential in this pasta. I think it would have been great from the writers point of view instead of the readers. As if you were conscious of your own trip to hell and witnessed by our own death… great imagination.
That was a definitely strange one, but I liked it all the same. Good job, and keep writing!
Are the ends of old stories getting cut off or something?
The story seems to just stop in the middle, and people in old comments keep complaining that it’s too long, but it’s only two paragraphs.
It sounds to me like you’re not successfully loading the entire post. Might be an issue with your ISP or whatever device you’re using timing out?
Too long but interesting
This wasn’t scary to me at all, nor was it interesting (for personal reasons haha). However, the imagery was just incredible. So many details and I could picture this in my mind perfectly. Whoever wrote this should try writing a novel.
oh i get it it was the passage way to heaven or hell
“and fall face first into a furnace, pitchforks raised and ready to escort you into your final resting place for all eternity”
That line ruined it for me, along with
this type of sentences, which I assume were for suspense, but annoyed me and had me going “Whoa wait where’s the te- Oh, there it is”.
this seemed to have an okay plot, but various spelling and detail errors broke it ><
I’m with Mr. Welldone here…
was really long in the beginning about the trees, and then quickly went through hell and how he was being planted as another tree, so good concept, but poor execution
Lol @ 404’s first sentence.
And like Mr. Welldone said, this was pointless fiction. Very nicely written but a good story needs a plot/goal to go with it.
Maybe not explaining why the garden was rotting would have been fine. I interpreted it as a journey of life. Going forward, you experience old-age symptoms, and when you realize this, you try to defy time by travelling back. Thus, everything around you withers and dies as you alone become young because in some demented way they are suffering for you and taking the blunt force of the consequences.
Then we open this mysterious locked door. And fiends come and rake your flesh off? Okay, that’s workable. But WHY are they doing this? Why go through all the trouble of having you break their locks just so they can -surprise- rake your flesh then plant you as a tree? They could’ve just taken you when you first fell into that room. Now, dammit, they have to replace their locks.
Aw, they pooed on me. :(
What the hell, man? Might as well castrate me while you’re at it.
I bet the end of the trail was yggdrasil
so you get shat on?
I really enjoyed this one.I like how he killed the fruits for good looks and made the fruits more luscious by becoming ugly and deformed.Extremely delicious,I must ask for seconds.
Eric Carlson and Joan Wagar, A,K,A,
Doubleclick and Mrs Dash,( yes those are
there nicknames they gave each other.)
admitted to poisoning me while I was a plasma
donor back in 2005.
Eric Carlson pedofied me behind prison walls
and then framed me as a pedophile on march
26th 2007, I caught the crime on a audio
recorder I put in Joan’s purse.
there were people in authority helping them
with this and nobody in authority will help
they pretend nothing happened and refuse to
Eric Carlson changed his hair color and his
name to Gashel and Clackamas Walmart was
hiding him from my Family by pretending He’s
someone else but this is not hidden, only
ignored by the authority’s and media
I’m disabled from being poisoned and the
hospitals refuse to admit I’m poisoned.
My Family is in danger from these people and
I have no other recourse but to make these
My name is Terry Wagar,Im from Portland
Oregon and I’m backing up these charges.
I have been threatened with harassment
charges by a Sargent Walker, She is a
Portland Police officer stationed at the OHSU
hospital, for the non crime of reporting a
multi murder conspiracy within that hospital.
They dont give a s4!t Joan and Eric was
poisoning a plasma donor!
And how many god damn John Ray’s in authority
are there in portland oregon!
You damn serial killer.
Where did Mrs Dash keep her stash? in A
Garlic Salt Shaker!
What did Doubleclick do with his Dick? You
Why you hiding A body double for Clackamas
The strange, metaphorical laws of the orchard make it a pretty cool setting. But, yeah, like the comment up there said, the part with the shitting demons makes it difficult to take the rest of the story anything close to seriously. :\ I dunno about that part of the torture.
imps take a shit on your body after they ripped your skin off? harsh
some of the story was not need to keep suspence but it was very good
Wow that was written very well!
*sigh* its ok but i did not brix
good detial and all though it feels like your there ….. (._.;)
there are too many pastas on this site that share this theme, people caught in an endless repeating purgatory. makes me think of that video game “the 7th guest.”
The lesson is eat your fucking fruits.
i liked,although i did not understand parts.Overal,great story anon!can’t wait for the next one1
I think the idea was, that, if he was willing to sacrifice his good health and looks (at the end of the garden), he’d reach heaven instead of hell.
Creepypasta with a moral, kinda?
I thought it said rotted leg…. lol
I got the impression that it was a hell of some sort?
hmm, i had a fream like this once… =^_^=
It reminds me of my name.
Am i the only one who things the whole “Ill leave what it means up to the ready/listener/moviegoer” is a cop-out and a poor excuse for not being able to finish a story? If you read a Stephen King book, there may be a question of what happened to the character in the long run, but until you get to that point there is no question in your mind of the setting and conflict. Learn from the masters.
I enjoyed this. It’s written with the sort of care that one would give to a short story, and I appreciate that. It kept me on edge, and the ending made sense (analogous to the story, of course).
There were a few flaws, though. It was kind of confusing when, all of a sudden, everything started to decompose. There was no trigger, and I think that it would have probably added a little more concreteness to the plot if the person in the story actually did something (i.e. eat an orange) or made a mistake (i.e. answered a riddle wrong) for every thing to suddenly fall apart.
Overall, though, very nice work. Especially for a first attempt.
I like the uncertainty with the fall. It leaves the reader questioning what the character did wrong and question their own actions.
Very good first attempt Anon! Keep on writing! Want to read more…
I guess that’s why they call this board random rofl xD
i saw it on /x/ a while back, it seems to go slowly downhill concept-wise.
A bit long, but pretty good.
Hi, OP here.
I could go into a tl;dr explanation of why I set it the way I did or give reasoning behind everything, but I’d rather leave it as is and up to the reader. To everyone that doesn’t like it, I can honestly say it’s to be expected. This was my first horror/creepypasta/sick fuck story, and I can honestly say I enjoyed making it. Hopefully I’ll do better next time with toning down the detail and length.
it was great, i enjoy long pastas
Tbh I enjoyed the detail but it tapered of at the end, seemed like a rush job to me. If you took a few more paragraphs to add in the detail properly I think it would be better.
WHO WAS LOG?!
Quality dropped near the end, less detail, more substance please.
not that good
damn that was a good yet long story
Actually a pretty good one. Agreed it was a bit long, but I think it was worth it.
this was super long and is was kinda boring…
I LOVE IT!!! Suspenseful, scary, and good descriptive writing! Whoever wrote this should be a writer! ^_^
Just saying, but they kinda are if they wrote this.
Verrrrrrrrry nice, but what was at the end of the garden? I’m really curious to know.
Seems like Hell
My interpretation of this would be one direction you walk the path of life slowly growing older and weaker as you would with age. Or you take an easier more tempting path that ultimately leads to hell. (sort of like making a deal with the devil for the abundant health and strength he experienced.)I don’t understand the orange and apple trees though, not sure if that is another metaphor or just a random add to the story. Never the less nice read, I enjoyed it.