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Young Again



Estimated reading time โ€” 2 minutes

“Youth is wasted on the young.” – George Bernard Shaw

The old, hate-filled woman had been staring at the bathtub for a whole 15 minutes until she was entirely satisfied that it was dead. Taking her gangrenous black foot from the back of its head, it rose slowly to the surface of the calm, cold water, no longer pinned down by the crabby appendage.

Gripping its scalp with her claw-like nails, digging them under the surface of its soft white skin, she snatched it out of the water in a single, wicked motion, before forcefully smashing it against the floor, like a potter adding clay to the kiln. The back of its head became flat as a pancake, while the sides split open and sloppy brain flowed freely from the cracks. Then she went to work.

Taking a pair of rusted scissors, she messily snipped and sliced the skin from all around its head, taking special care to preserve the eyelids. Then, with a great deal of effort, made more difficult by her missing fingers, she ripped off its head and flipped it inside-out, discarding its small skull by tossing it in the nearby faucet.

She was greying, with hair down to her knees, and horrible, sunken eyes and a near-toothless mouth. Ugly. Horriffic. But that was about to change.

Grabbing a large needle and a thick, leather thread, she began stitching the skin to her own face. It didn’t look good. The mangled, tatty skin was secured to her face by the rotting thread, which wove messily in and out, over and under her skin. She ignored the pain. And the blood. There was a lot of blood. Some of it even her own.

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After what seemed an agonizing few minutes, she stood up from her wobbling knees, her hands still shaking and her vision slightly blurred from the intense pain. None of that mattered now, though.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but smile that wicked, foul, toothless grin. She looked disgusting before, like a witch, or something dead, but now she was beautiful. It was a miracle, she thought, that the family from across the street had ever trusted her to babysit their child.

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It didn’t matter now. She finally had her baby face.

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Credit To – Acaimo

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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.

22 thoughts on “Young Again”

  1. Immortal Dragoneye

    I enjoyed the story, the idea and the way you put it into words really got me interested. It did give me the good creepy vibe I was hoping for, but one thing threw me off; the title. 2012, such an odd name for such an amazingly dark story such as this one. What gave you the idea for such a name? How does ‘2012’ apply to this in any way? I honestly and obviously can’t see it, and I’m sure this thought came upon a few others. But, the title is the only thing I see wrong with this. The story overall is well described, gave me a good chill, and it’s a good, dark story, one I was hoping for while searching this site.

  2. I was reading it and I get to the end and that’s when it hit me: this lady is fucking sick! What the fuck is wrong with her, killing babies? Just fucking disgusting.

  3. This doesn’t creep me out, it just made me want to cry because I have a small baby and I have to leave her at home while I go to school :/

  4. I must say, first, that when I read the very first line I went “Uh? She wanted to be sure that the bathtub was dead?” If I were you, since she is already referring to the baby with “it”, I would have used “the thing” there, or something like that.
    Also, I don’t understand why the thread was rotten, and how could any parent leave their baby with someone who looks like this lady, but they aren’t such important details, the story is still good regardless.

  5. I don’t even know why I thought it was a crab or something…

    That was even scarier and sadder than it should have D:

  6. Creepy creepy creepy. I was wondering throughout how this fragile old woman could overcome and hold someone down, but then I understood. It’s pretty dark, in the end. With the exception of the age of the victim, this was a pretty straightforward pasta, which isn’t so much my taste, but that doesn’t make it bad. For what it is, I think it was executed very well. I like most of the descriptions, especially the “like a potter adding clay…” line. That one was subtly gruesome, because there is nothing inherently off about a potter and kiln, but there is given the subject matter. Nicely done. All that said, I felt a little bogged down buy the description in the beginning, just because every noun seemed to have an associated adjective. There wasn’t much happening at that moment, and most of the beginning was a description, but that changed in the latter half as it started to move along nicely. It was a bit more gore than I like, just because as I said before, I prefer more psychological rather than straightforward pastas, but it handled that pretty well. Overall, it dealt with a relatively classic theme well. Nice job, and happy writing!

  7. “She looked like a witch…like something dead.”

    Scary, broken teeth, decaying skin, greying, dying hair…

    …but HEY – her hourly rate is amaaaaazing. Let’s leave our newborn with her!

  8. While it was fairly obvious that it was a baby in the tub, being that a demented old lady was able to hold it down, this was more disturbing than creepy.

  9. God damn it people, stop messing with little kids in pastas! Or at least stop killing them off! It’s not creepy to read something like this, it’s digusting and sad. Cheap too.

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