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Estimated reading time — 9 minutes

My last memory was that of surviving a deadly Nazi airstrike. My head was groggy, still ringing from the shrapnel blast. I thank whatever god is out there that my helmet managed to deflect the hit. Shaking of the sensation, I got up on my feet and picked up my Thompson, slowly threading on the stone roads of the town.

“Weisserdorf, that’s where the SS officer is holed up in”, I thought to myself, with the gun raised, slowly approaching the fog ridden plaza.

Something was wrong; I expected sounds of explosions, guns blazing and bullets whizzing from all sides but everything was eerily silent. All I could hear was the crackle of fires and sobbing of people. But yet, this wasn’t a bother to me as I pressed on, determined to put two bullets in the eyes of that Nazi asshole.


Stopping in my tracks, I looked straight ahead; something on the horizon caught my eye. It was a young boy, slumped on a corner, sobbing with his hands covering his face.

I approached him carefully. I know these tricks; children, acting weak and lost, only to unpin a grenade once you have them in your hands.

Something was wrong, despite me yelling at the child with my Thompson aimed at him, he didn’t react and remained sobbing and unmoved.

Slowly pacing, I moved closer.

I gasped in shock; the child was translucent and had a blue glow on him. Normally, I would freak out, having witnessed a ghost right in front of me but yet, I felt unfazed.

Unnaturally unfazed.


With the gun still poised on my shoulder, I continue to observe him until a figure appeared behind me.

Taken by surprise, I jolted back, pointing my gun at it; it was an elderly woman, just like the boy, she was translucent and glowed blue. Not noticing me, she quickly dashed for the boy and grabbed him, running off.

I then heard the whistle of mortar fire. Cursing to myself, I ducked on the ground, covering my head.

“Strange”, I thought to myself. I could hear the blast of the shell impacting but felt neither the shockwave nor shrapnel flying through. As the sound of the blast ended, I got up and turned back; it was the mangled phantom bodies of the woman and the boy.

“What the hell is going on?” I thought to myself. But then, it hit me again; the compulsion. I needed to get to the town hall, where that son of a bitch is bunkered in. No death of ghosts is going to stop me. Turning my back on the events, I pressed on.

“Who’s there!” I yelled, pointing my gun at the second floor of a building.

I couldn’t tell what was it; it was well hidden behind the windows and the all I could see was its glowing eyes. I approached the building and continued my yells, only to have frightened it off.

I didn’t want to investigate. It’s probably my mind playing tricks on me; Not worth my time. It was only a matter of time before the Officer would flee. Brushing all the thoughts off, I continued my approach.

Finally, I arrived at my destination and could see the town hall from where I was. Gritting my teeth and tightening my grip on my gun, I hasten my movements as the sound of machine gun fire and yells became more prominent.

“Let’s do this”, I said to myself with courage.

Something was wrong; yes, I could see fellow comrades hunkered down behind cover, firing at the building and even a goddamned Sherman blasting shells at it but yet, when I approached them, they ignored me; they were like the boy, translucent but this time, were glowing red.

”What is this? Some kind of Nazi experimental paranormal shit?” I audibly thought to myself. In frustration, I tried clobbering one of the soldiers, who was laying prone with my gun but it simply phased through. Grunting deeply, I vulgarly swore to myself.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Nevertheless, I didn’t care, I’m not letting some Nazi trick deter my mission. Dismissing this strange phenomenon, I headed towards the hall, weapon raised and with determination to gun down that bastard. I kicked down the door.

“Strange, those things were outside…” I thought to myself, witnessing the phantom battle that was going on in the town hall. There were soldiers, both German and American, blasting hails of lead at one another, clobbering each other to death with guns.

Ignoring the ghostly commotion, I headed upstairs.

“Voices!” I gasped and this time, it felt alive. Not like the distorted voices of the phantom combatants, but human speech. I approached the door where the sound was emanating from; the voices were in German, with one of them yelling and quarreling with another.

“This is it, that fucking asshole is inside!”

Without moments to spare, I kicked down the door as the two inside, a Sergeant and the Officer looking stunned, with their mouths agape in shock as I burst in and before they could pull out their weapons, I fired, unloading a flurry of .45 ACP rounds at them, splattering the room red and decorating the walls with bullet holes.

I approached the lifeless corpse of the Officer and his sergeant and smirked. “I did it! I killed a motherfucking SS officer! I’m gonna get a medal for this!” I triumphantly thought to myself.

The sensation was short lived. The bodies of the men started to fade into translucency. My breaths begun to deepen as their bodies started glowing red. With cold sweat driveling from my helmet, I felt frantic as I looked at my hands.

“Jesus Christ!” I screamed in terror.
“They were translucent and red! All this time? I was one of them? What the fuck!”

Dropping my gun and shouting in helpless rage, I pounded on the wall in hopelessness. “I don’t belong here! What the hell!” I yelled with a tearful tone. Dropping on my knees, I writhed on the floor, curling up in a fetal position. And then, I could hear the engines of Focke-Wulfs roaring in the sky and the whistles of bombs dropping.


My last memory was that of surviving a deadly Nazi airstrike. My head was groggy but yet, I was strangely free of bodily fatigue. Getting up on my feet and grabbing my Thompson, I moved on, knowing that I must complete my mission; the elimination of the SS officer holed up in the Village of Weisserdorf.

“Odd” I thought to myself. “Am I in the right village?”

The village looked run down. No, not by the destruction of bombs and war, but by age; there were climbers growing on the walls of buildings and the stone ground was cracked everywhere, with moss and grass growing on them. I couldn’t put my finger on what is going on but all I could feel is this sense of dreadful déjà-vu and the strong compulsion of heading to the town hall.

With determination to end the life of the target, I pressed on to the Plaza of the town.

“Something’s missing.” I pondered, eyeing at a nearby building. Something should be there but yet, the derelict building appeared nothing of import.


Gun raised, I scrutinized it further, approaching it but yet, nothing.

“Must be my imagination.” I whispered, walking back to where I was and continued moving. Suddenly, I heard noises; it felt like murmuring but distorted. Curiously, I looked back and saw a group of figures on tailing me, approaching carefully. With intention to drive them away, I turned back and walked towards them.

“Hey civilians! Get out of here! Find safety!” I yelled.

They halted and their murmuring stopped. I then moved closer to get a better view on them.

“Holy shit!” I cursed as I finally got a good glance at them; they appeared to be black sprites of roughly humanoid figure, with eyes glowing white. For some reason, I didn’t panic, despite the fact that they were ghosts. But rather, they seemed frightened of me, as one of them was shivering and another, gasping very heavily.

One of them took out a device, hanging on his hip and a flash of light came out of it.

I didn’t know but yet, I read that as a hostile act as I leveled my Thompson and fire at the group, only to have my bullets phasing through them.

They panicked and bolted away, vanishing as they ran into the fog behind them.

“What in God’s name is going on?”
The town hall was in sight. With my weapon excitedly raised, I approached the building and kicked down the doors. I expected a bloody fight going on but I didn’t care; all I wanted to do is just to kill that SS officer. Climbing the stairs, I could hear voices in German. Knowing that the officer was in one of the doors, I approached it and heard them even louder. With a rush of courage, I kicked down the door, unloading a barrage of bullets at the SS officer with anger fueled impunity.
“Yes!” I cheered. “With that Evildoer dead, I’m looking at a well earned promotion once I get back to America!”

But something felt wrong, I felt that I have done this before as a strong sense of déjà-vu hit me. Panting heavily, I whimpered to myself and looked at a nearby mirror.

I gasped deeply, seeing a figure, featureless, glowing red and translucent. Quivering, I turned my head towards the body of the officer; he was like me, featureless, glowing red and translucent.

“What the hell…” I mumbled, dropping on my knees and covering my face. “This is wrong, this is all wrong!!! I don’t belong here! I DON’T BELONG HERE! I’M DEAD! I’M DEAD!!!”

This sense of hopelessness, I know I have felt it before. I don’t know when, or why, but all I could hear now are the engines of Focke-Wulfs roaring in the sky and the whistling of bombs dropping…


My last memory was that of surviving a deadly Nazi airstrike. My head felt numb and light and so is my body. I tighten the straps on my helmet and looked around. “The hell?” I mumbled, looking around at the town; it seems like a construction is going on. I could see metal frames of buildings everywhere on the town as cranes and other construction vehicles were apparent everywhere.

“Weird, intel didn’t tell us that Weisserdorf was undergoing a construction”, I wondered.

I checked my ammunition before slowly threading on the concrete grounds, with the strong compulsion to head for the town hall.

Something didn’t feel right, it didn’t seem like a battle was going on; there were no cracks of gunfire, screams and yells of soldiers nor the blasts of explosions going on. I slowly walked the streets and then, I came across a group of figures. I gulped heavily; they were black and shadowy, with glowing eyes and seemingly clad in construction worker’s clothes. With burning curiosity, I approached them, in attempt to ask if I was in the right place but as one of them caught a glimpse of me, they started to panic, dropping their tools and dashing off, screaming frantically.

“What was I thinking? And why didn’t I feel anything strange? These guys were goddamn ghosts!” I thought to myself, placing my palm on my face.


Quickly shrugging off the feeling, I continued my journey; after all, I needed to kill that fucking Nazi in that building. I fasten my pace to the location, only to discover that there was no town hall, but a building foundation. The officer was just waiting there, motionless and staring blankly at the horizon. I did not care about this oddity, of why he would just stand there like a statue on some building foundation like an idiot. He must probably be high on some weird Nazi drugs. I approached him and opened fire, filling his body with holes, oozing with blood.

A sense of triumph filled me, but yet, I somehow knew that the sensation would be short lived, as I dropped on my knees, eyeing on the corpse of the late SS officer, that suddenly turned translucent and red.

“Why?” I cried, sobbing in sorrow as my body begun to feel light as I felt it dissipating into the air…


I can’t remember anything but the sensation on my body felt like some strange, exotic hangover. My head felt groggy and I was disorientated but yet, my body felt light and anew, as if I just woke up from a good sleep. An awful sense of déjà-vu came to me as I looked around but yet, I couldn’t tell what was going on.

Ignoring all feelings that clouded my mind, I picked up my Thompson and started moving.

The town of Weisserdorf was weird; it looked very futuristic, with neon lights and billboards showing colored moving pictures. There were automobiles of strange, sci-fi like designs scattered across the roads, driven by black, shadowy figures.

I ignored them and didn’t panic like any ordinary person would; it is this dreadful sense of compulsion that I needed to move to the town hall to kill the Nazi Officer driving me forward, not giving a damn about anything else.
I didn’t care, not even as to why this town would appear anachronistic. With ignorant disbelief, I brushed it off as this was some kind of top-secret Nazi town in the middle of Germany. With gun held high, I marched towards the location as my mind ignored everything that roamed the streets as they in turn, ignored me.

It wasn’t a town hall, but a rather strange looking inn. I didn’t care less about the faulty intel our superiors gave us; as long as the target is in there, I wouldn’t give a shit about anything else; I just wanted badly to gun that motherfucker down.

I didn’t bother knocking down the door; I just phased through it and headed upstairs, ignoring the black sprites that occupied the reception area. I headed for the door, lead by this compulsive sense of déjà-vu and entered in with my gun raised.

“The hell? Who the fuck are you!” I yelled in astonishment; it was a figure, clad in ashen robes and his face was pale white and featureless. I readied my weapon but couldn’t fire, not because the gun was jammed or anything.

I just couldn’t.

He grabbed me by the shoulders with both his elongated talons and closed up to me, whispering in a low and solemn voice:

“O Tormented one… Thy deliverance awaits thee…”

I suddenly felt lightened, my mind dissipating into blackness…


I had no memory. My body and mind felt weightless and all I see is nothingness…

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13 thoughts on “Weisserdorf”

  1. I can’t believe I’m actually taking the time to write this. It just isn’t something I normally do. To be quite honest, the moment after I finished reading it my first thought was “welp. That fucking sucked.” But after thinking about it a little, understanding that not all pastas (in fact most) won’t be super creepy, and that really the typos you had weren’t as big of a deal as I first thought, my thoughts were, “Damn, that was a cool concept. Hopefully this guy will keep contributing to the community.” This pasta really got a good grip on me and wouldn’t let me go. Not the best I’ve read, but it certainly shows a lot of potential. I hope to read more of your work soon.

    1. Hey thanks mate. I knew my story isnt scary in the first place and i wanted to write something a little different…

      I swear… i can never get enough proofreading xD. Gonna need to proofread my stuff to death next time i guess…

      Overall, im a little proud that my first attempt at creepypasta got in, which is gonna drive me to improve the hell outta myself and make moar! (Honestly thought this is going straight to crappypasta in the first place…)

  2. The officer telling the story was killed in the explosion. He was a ghost repeating the same action over and over again. The ghosts he saw in the story were actually people, hence why they were frightened of him. Pretty well written. I enjoyed it. Changed tenses a few times, but still a pretty good tale.

  3. I think the story has potential and could be improved with a few changes. The references to World War equipment and so on, whilst it is a good detail to add, might be better with a bit more information. I’d say that it’s a Thompson submachine gun at the start. I suspect that, unfortunately, knowledge of the wars isn’t something many people of a younger age would have nowadays. There’s a few typos or words that need to be changed for others or that need to have some extra information added with them. At the start when you’ve said slowly threading on the stones of the old town. Typos are understandable, and I’m sure people can change the word for themselves, but not having to is always appreciated. I’d add some information to explain why he’s treading carefully. Is the road mined or is it unsafe due to damage.

    Why is the soldier on his own? Is he the last surviving member of his squad or is he on a special mission? Small details can help add to the story and make us understand the character more.

    When he sees the boy, he’s shocked, but is then quickly unfazed. Maybe changing it so he is shocked, and doesn’t understand at this point, but throughout the story he gains knowledge like we do. This must be something completely new to him, and supernatural, I don’t think many people at all could not be shocked by that. In other chapters and over time you could have it so it doesn’t faze him, but he doesn’t know why.

    Changing ‘I thought to myself’ would be fine as I thought or wondered. Or some similar variations. It breaks up repetition.

    I’d swap the part where he sees the creature in the window around. He sees it, or hears a noise, and that’s what makes him yell. And it will help explain why he knows to look at the window.

    Why are the comrades red and not blue like the boy and the woman? To me it’s because they’re involved in the war and have killed people and the boy and woman are blue because they’re innocent, but an explanation in the story would help the reader. Change audibly thinking to himself. He can’t do that.
    Without stating that it’s an enemy soldier he’s hitting it comes across as he’s doing it to someone on his own side. Maybe use a different word to clobbering. I think soldiers would be more clinical than that.

    I’d change the cold sweat drivelling from his helmet description. That’s a different thing to what you mean. Maybe say he breaks out into a cold sweat? What turns him into one of the red apparitions? We learn further down that he’s in a loop, but we don’t yet. So we either need more information, or for it to be removed entirely. Perhaps when it’s established that he’s repeating the same day would be a good time to reveal he’s also one of the ghosts.

    Some words that I’d remove and some that I’d change. The bullets phasing through the sprites suggests that they’re physical beings and the bullets are intangible. Unless that’s your intention, the bullets passing through them would be better. Also, why does he interpret their actions as hostile?

    Calling the officer an evildoer after you’ve called him motherfucker and asshole, etc, makes it come across in the fashion of an old comic book.

    I’d choose different words instead of ‘my last memory was that of surviving a deadly Nazi airstrike’ we now know that it’s a recurring day for him, so a new chapter opening the same way as the others is too repetitive.

    There’s a few more typo corrections, and words I’d drop.

    If you’re intending the sprites to be mystical and otherworldly, I’d not have them using construction equipment. It gives a sense of humanity to them. They could be building through a rite or something similar. Why are they scared of him? Details as to why the officer is now just standing there would be a good addition. It’s new behaviour, but we don’t know why.

    I understand he’s very focused on his mission, and that he’s feeling compelled, but I still think he’d be in awe of the futuristic setting. It’s vastly different to the world he knew and grew up in. Maybe take a moment to show that, and then get him back on task. How does he phase through the door? It’s not stated he knows he’s a ghost and has embraced it. If your intention is that with each new rel-lived day he gains more knowledge and now does know he’s a ghost it’d help if that was said outright. Finally, it’d be nice to know what made this happen to him.

    This has been a very long comment, but I hope it comes across as constructive criticism and helpful as I intended. It has potential to be such a better story. Just needs to be polished a bit. Or, more sauce and a bit of seasoning added, as it were.

    1. Hey, thanks for you detailed criticism man!

      Honestly, I thought this wouldn’t be accepted or even be placed in the crappypasta site in the first place… But hell, I’m quite happy that my first pasta ive ever made got in here…

      Yeah, I need to proofread for my tenses and typos much more in the future. About why he was alone, I wanted to imply that his squad was wiped out by the airstrike but true, I needed to put more detail in stuff here and there

      I have to go easy on the expletives next time and its nice to alter some phrases to be less repetitive…

      Thank so much for your time to write this! You’re cool bro…

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