The Smiling Man In Black
| Published on Creepypasta.com | April 2008 |
|---|---|
| Length | 833 words · about 4 minutes to read |
| Story level | Short |
| Reader rating | 8.5/10 from 1,046 votes |
| Category | Beings and Entities |
When I was younger, I lived with my father and his mother. I was the only child, a girl at that, and my father was very protective of me. My grandmother, on the other hand, hated me. At first, she would just yell at me and shove me around when dad was at work. It escalated, quickly after he started working longer house to make ends meet. I rarely saw my father at that point. For 4 years, she did things I can’t even bring myself to really think about, not enough to write it. For those 4 years, I prayed and prayed for release. I prayed and wished for her to die. To God, to whoever would listen. My dad probably would have believed me if I’d had a chance to talk to him, but she’d made me feel as though I were an abomination over the years that, I couldn’t bear it anymore. After she killed my kitten and made me bury it, at the age of 13, I attempted suicide by hanging myself inside my closet.
Apparently, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing and the bar in the closet that I tied myself to fell on my head and knocked me the fuck out. I pulled myself up and headed to sneak into the bathroom without the monster cunt to catch me and give me another beating. As I left my bedroom, I caught a whiff of something very fucking rancid, like vomit, burning flesh, and blood, mixed together, warm. I knew all of these smells fairly well, considering what my grandmother did to me, and I thought for a moment it might have been my imagination, or her making something disgusting for me to eat to torture me more. While I recognized the seperate smells in a way, I’d never smelled something like this.
As I got closer and closer to the stairs overlooking the living room, which was right across from the bathroom, I started to hear something. Faintly, I remember hearing it a few feet back, but suddenly it seemed so much louder. My head was pounding, my heart was pounding, and all I could hear was gurgle, smack smack, squish squish, RIIIIIIIIIP. The mere idea of peeking over the stairs and into the living room was suddenly so profoundly frightening that I almost just went back into my bedroom, but strangely enough, it was amazingly easy to just do it anyway.
What I saw in the living room will never leave me for as long as I live, in more than one sense.
Also read: The Devil Game
My grandmother was lying on the ground. There was someone wearing black kneeling over her. They were both covered in blood. The person’s head was moving rhythmically over its hands, which held what I the relized was some organ in her body. The person didn’t look up, and I was scared silent.
There was so much blood. So, so much blood.
The sound of gnawing, the smacking mouth, the snapping of her organs at they were ripped from my grandmother’s body (what was left of it), the brutally grotesque sight of her chest cavity having been torn open, of her body being consumed little by little filled me with terror I had never known before. I didn’t know what to do. It ate her body, slowly, seeming to enjoy every bite it took, its body swaying and moving so unnaturally that I couldn’t even think it was human.
I couldn’t stop watching, I couldn’t run away, the sheer terror of it choked the scream I would have let out. It stopped, I stopped. It looked up at me after what seemed an eternity, releasing the contents of its mouth. Gorey pieces and blood, some brown at that point, covered most of its face. What I could see of the face, it seemed to be male, very pale in patches. Where eyes were supposed to be were black pits, pits that seemed to dilate, expand and retract. He had no lips, but his mouth twitched, like some kind of hologram going in and out, slowly smiling, the smile expanding beyond normal human ability. I vomited and fainted.
I woke up, my father was home and worrying over me. My grandmother’s body was gone along with all of the blood. “Where’s grandma? Where is she?” I kept asking him, until I had to stop, from the look in his eyes. He told me her heart was bad, and she was “in heaven now”. I couldn’t believe it. That was impossible, right? Did I imagine that whole thing?
At her funeral, on the way to her burial site, I saw the man again. He looked more human, but I knew it was him. I remembered that smile. That day, I smiled back.
I still have dreams about that man, sometimes I think I see him in public. Even when I don’t see him, I can feel him there. He’s always there, watching me.
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shit.
Even Mr. Welldone gets all MARIN FUCKING KARIN once in a while. Is it his period?
Inside, Darkness Rages. Outside, Light shines. What will happen when the door opens right up?
Man in black = God.
I would have liked this story much more if they didn’t feel the need to add in the ‘he’s watching me part’. Otherwise, I liked the concept of the story.
Creepy as noodles.
I am died.
I wish I had a gaurdian angel like that
Gaurdian angel.
I love when creepypastas have a dark, yet satisfying climax.
This was fantastic, I knew the Man In Black would get Grandma somehow…that’s what you get for killing kittens and abusing children.
Great pasta
I actually liked this A LOT. I read the comments and there’s a lot of stuff about how she was suffering? No, I enterperated it as he was watching her because he was happy for her. She was happy her grandma was dead.
Also, I like the language in the beginning. It made me feel like I was being talked to by a real human…
Welldone fucking owns.
HAHA Mr. Welldones comment was more entertaning than the story!!!
Curious….very curious.
It saddens me that i do not have a guardian like that :/ oh, the times ive prayed :/
10/10
Wow. Holy dick. That was awesome. I love it! I love it, I love it, I love it!!! You’re my new hero!
A+++++!!!!
That sounds so…awesome. Like some demon was protecting her or something. maybe I’m thinking about this too much. Anyway that was some good pasta.
kid should be happy. frikin’ man helped her.
mr.welldone’s educated and elegantly delivered rage scares me.
Methinks someone ordered a gaurdian angel from the wrong place. Pretty good story, but you swear-spammed in some areas, and the pacing could have a lot better with some extra time.
This story was fantastic. Granted there were some typos, but if that’s going to ruin a story for you, go fuck yourself.
And I think the vulgarity was perfectly fine where it is. The bluntness of it fit the story. You don’t need to have the most expansive vocabulary to write an amazing story.
Okay, but too much profanity, which ruined it.
Wow, that kinda sucked. Like… a friggen 12 yr old wrote it.
This story is gory, (Ha, that rhymed!) but didn’t really send shivers down my spine like some other Creepypasta. Especially the end. The end almost gives you -er, me…- a sense of comfort and protection. But it was still a great story. I like the description of his face.
Yay for evil guardian angel! :)
Oh dear, I feel another bad meme refrence.
“I think the smiling man in black is a pretty cool guy. eh eats grandmothers and doesn’t afraid of anything”
I deserve a slap…
i can’t help but imagine the man as the g-man from half life
that makes this a funny story
That was…. actually not very good at all. The point of the story was decent, but it was poorly executed. And no, there’s nothing bad with foul language as long as it sounds appropriate in the story’s context. The uses in this pasta made it seem childish.
There wasn’t even an explanation betwixt the daemon’s entrance and the funeral. Was she truly devoured? Or was it simply a scene only apparent to the child to let her know her grandmother was dying and that it’d be a painful and just death? That would have been emphasized by letting us know whether or not it was an open or closed casket funeral procession.
But that’s just my input. Feel free to ignore me…
He sounds nice. <3
i love the concept:
“do bad, to do good”
i’ve spent my whole life doing that…
2 things.1. I can’t even read mrwelldones post, I was pissing myself laughing after reading just a bit of it. 2. At 16: that’s an arby n the chief reffrence :)
Aw, I don’t think this one’s scary at all. It’s nice, I love stories where cunts get what they deserve. :]
gurgle with mouth full of cum, smack that ass smack that ass, squish that monster cunt squish that monster cunt, RIIIIIIIIIP that cunt open with yo huge dick