7 Dec, 2017
Reading Time: 14 minutes
Peter walked in large circles through the grass with his two brothers, Kyle and Levi. It was a beautiful day; the sky was free of any clouds, and the sun shined brightly upon their side of the world. Peter looked down at the grass as he walked, thinking about what he and his brothers could play outside to fill their void of boredom. Peter was the youngest of the three, then there was Levi, and finally, Kyle.
They lived in a secluded area around the woods far from any other houses, meaning they had a big area to play in. Although, they couldn’t do very much with only three people.
“You got any ideas, Levi?” Kyle asked in a monotonous tone.
“Nope. The only thing I can think of is what Mom told us not to do,” Levi replied. “Which is practically damn near everything.”
Their mother was overprotective, placing restrictions on the many things they loved to do outside. Ever since Peter broke his finger during a game of wrestling, they were only allowed to play games like tag and hide and seek. After a while though, the two games got painfully dull with such few players. Their Dad would play with them occasionally, though that tended not to end very well. Their father had a hot temper, and would often take his anger out on one of the boys when he grew angry. If it got really bad he would even go to the shed and grab one of the tools.
Peter looked at his upper arm, examining the long white scar that went horizontally across it.
Peter was sure that all three of them had scars on one place or another. Kyle was nearly strangled to death once by their father when he came home drunk and Peter was forced to watch, unable to do anything.
(Daddy, please stop! Daddy, please!)
He didn’t want to think about that anymore.
Peter was always the quiet child. One of few words, as his mother described him once. He always tried to be polite and was a kind person, or at least he liked to think he was. Levi was more of the laid back type and enjoyed playing sports such as football, and also swore a lot more than Kyle or Peter did. Kyle was a calm and collected kid, and always protected Peter from getting into harm’s way.
Peter snapped back to reality, realizing that he was spacing out again. He tended to lose himself in his thoughts, not aware of the things that went on around him. He inspected his surroundings. The silence from his brothers and even the wildlife around him was very uncomfortable, giving him a strange feeling. The only noise was the eerie sound of the wind.
“Ugh, Y’know what? Let’s just play tag. I mean, it’s probably the best thing we could do right now.” Levi said, breaking the silence.
“But tag is so damn boring with just the three of us. We can’t do anything out here…” Kyle said. He looked at their house. “We should just give it up and go back inside.”
Levi thought for a moment. “Well, Mom and Dad are at work, right? Why don’t we just climb the trees for a while until they come back?” Levi proposed.
Peter and Kyle stopped and considered the proposition. Climbing the trees wasn’t allowed, and they would be punished harshly by their father if they were caught doing so. Thoughts ran through Peter’s mind again and again, going in a circle like the one they walked in. What if their parents catch them? What will Dad do? But, at that moment, Peter decided to do something that he hadn’t done in years. He chose to forget about their parents for a little while. Why don’t they just climb a few trees for a bit and then stop before Mom or Dad gets home? They had a few hours, anyway.
“Y’know what? We should do that. I mean, it’s better than just walking around not doing jack shit.” Kyle agreed. He looked at Peter, awaiting his say on the idea.
“Um… Sure. Let’s do that for a while, but not for for too long. We don’t want Dad to get angry.” He said. Even though he had decided to forget about his parents and just try to enjoy himself for a bit, the idea of their parents catching them was still stuck in his mind like an immovable boulder. He continued to tell himself they wouldn’t be caught, but by now it felt like he was lying to himself. He continued to go with the plan anyway, not wanting to ruin the opportunity they had.
“Yeah, definitely.” Kyle replied, glancing at Peter’s scarred arm. The three of them looked around the area, searching for a tree that was good enough to climb. Peter looked around and stopped, finding the ideal tree almost instantly. Kyle and Levi seemed to stop on the tree as well. The tree stood at least twenty feet away from their home at a daunting height, it’s top half swaying lightly in the wind. Peter raised his arm, curling his fingers to point at the green and brown giant.
“Let’s go to that one, it’s huge…” Peter said in a small voice.
“Damn, I’ve been wanting to climb that for ages…” Levi said. “Come on guys, let’s go!”
“Alright! Let’s go, Peter.” Kyle said, running to catch up with Levi. Peter brought himself forward, initiating his run towards the tree, though not nearly as fast as either of his brothers. Peter watched Levi and Kyle arrive at the base of the tree, looking up at the clutter of branches and leaves. He came shortly after.
“Holy hell…” Levi said, still staring at what was above him.
“We should stop at about three o’clock, okay?” Said Kyle. He looked at Peter and Levi. Peter nodded and checked his watch to look at the time. 12:28 PM. Their parents got home at 3:30, so they had a total of two and a half hours to just climb the trees. Nothing to worry about. Levi didn’t care to answer Kyle, jumping up and grabbing onto a big, wide branch about seven feet off the ground. He pulled himself up, continuing to climb the tree with impressive speed. Peter looked at Kyle, searching for some sort of approval. Kyle looked back at Peter and nodded, a smile on his lips.
“Let’s have some fun, Pete.” He said calmly.
“Maybe it isn’t going to be so bad…” Thought Peter.
“Hey, guys!” Levi yelled down at them from about a fourth up the tree. “What if we played tag in here?”
Peter’s face lit up. The idea sounded perfect. He again looked at Kyle, who began to smirk.
“All right. I’m it” He said, looking directly at Peter.
Peter’s expression instantly changed from happy to panicked. He quickly ran around the trunk of the tree, searching for a branch that he could jump and reach to. On the other side from Kyle he managed to find a branch up to par with his height. He leaped for the branch, his hand clasping around the rough bark of the tree. He then noticed that his brother was not running, but slowly moving in a tip-toe.
“Peter… I’m coming.” Kyle said in a menacing whisper. Adrenaline surged through Peter’s veins as he pulled himself up the branch and held onto the trunk of the tree to stabilize himself and stand upon it. He grabbed onto the next branch while looking down to see where Kyle was, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Peter continued to hold onto the branch, using it to keep balance while he looked to the other side of the tree.
Kyle wasn’t on the ground anymore, instead climbing up the tree for Peter. Kyle was several feet below him, but continued make his way up the tree with frightening speed. Peter pulled himself up one more branch and looked back to where he was, realizing that Kyle was not actually going after him anymore, but instead moving on to Levi.
“Better start moving, Levi…” Said Kyle, a big grin plastered to his face.
Peter craned his neck to look up to where Levi was, seeing him perched on a branch halfway up the tree. Peter grabbed the tree trunk again to stabilize while he sat on the branch, watching the showdown between his two brothers unfold.
“Hey! Why aren’t you going after Peter? He’s right there!” Levi yelled down the tree.
“Nah, I ain’t gonna let you sit up there all day.” Kyle answered, showing no sign of stopping his ascent. Levi looked up to see that nearly all of the branches above him were too thin to support him, so he decided to move down the tree in an attempt to gain more leverage. He climbed down and around the tree, most likely trying to get to Peter and avoid Kyle at the same time. Kyle clearly noticed his plan and quickly advanced to the other side of the tree while Peter simply sat, watching the battle unfold. Levi was blocked on his way down, trapped by Kyle. He sat on the only branch near him. It was a thinner branch, dipping down from his weight.
“What a load of bullshit…” Levi said, irritated. He gave up, dropping from the safety of sitting on the branch and holding on with his hands, letting his legs dangle down for Kyle to tag.
“Alright, go ahead and ge-”
Levi’s words were cut off by a large snap from the branch he held, breaking away from the tree and sending Levi plummeting down to the ground.
Peter froze in shock as he watched Levi scream in terror and reach out for a branch in a desperate panic, only to have his hand smack into bark. His arms and legs continued to collide with several other branches before his feet made contact with the dirt. His right leg landed first at an unnatural angle, along with a horrendous snap. Levi let out a horrific sound that Peter had never in his life heard before, nor ever wanted to hear again. He continued to scream in pain for what felt like forever, and then he fell silent.
Peter stared down at his brother whose body had almost entirely seized movement. His right leg was bent in a horribly unnatural position. He looked to Kyle, who was also staring down at Levi and wearing an expression of absolute shock. Everything was dead silent. Even the wind seemed like it stopped blowing.
“L-Levi…?” Kyle said shakily. Peter had never heard so much fear in Kyle’s voice. Levi produced a sound similar to a dying animal. Kyle quickly climbed down the tree and Peter followed, feeling very conscious about where he placed his foot now.
Peter and Kyle dropped down from the tree and moved slowly towards Levi. Kyle sped up his pace, getting on his hands and knees about a foot from Levi. He looked at his right leg. Peter stood by Kyle, staring wide-eyed at the mess.
A bone stuck out of his leg, caked in splotches of red. He bled constantly from the spot where it jutted out, and the only thing connecting his leg with the rest of his body was his flesh. Peter gagged and looked away. He proceeded to gag once more before vomit poured out of his mouth. He had never seen anything like this in his entire life. Levi began to sob and yell.
“Oh my God…” Kyle whispered under his breath.
“FUCK!” Levi yelled abruptly, making Peter and Kyle jump. Peter started to cry and fell to his knees, looking away from the carnage.
“A bit worse of a problem than your parents, huh?” Whispered a voice in the back of Peter’s mind.
Peter gasped, freezing in place.
His mind exploded with terror and fear. The concept of their parents seeing that Levi had a broken leg and that they had broken the rules nearly caused him to faint. Dad might kill them, and Peter wasn’t exaggerating.
“Kyle.” Peter turned and stared into Kyle’s eyes, his voice filled with dread.
“Dad is going to kill us.” It sounded like any other exaggeration about a child’s father, but he knew it was true. Kyle stared back at him, and another moment of silence took place for what felt like hours. Kyle went back to Levi and told him everything was going to be all right, and gave him a hug. He walked to Peter and grabbed him by the arms. His face was dark under the shade of the tree, speckled with little splotches of light. His pupils were abnormally large, even in the shade.
“Peter, look at me. If Dad sees this and finds out that we broke the rules…Well, I know you know what will happen.” Kyle whispered, glancing back to Levi. He was turned away from them, sobbing.
“Now, I don’t think Dad is going to help Levi. I think he’ll hurt him instead, along with you and me. H-he’ll hurt us bad.” Kyle gulped. “Um… Y’know the shed?” Peter nodded, not sure of where Kyle was going with this. “There’s uh… an axe in there…”
Peter gasped in horror as he realized what his brother was saying.
“W-what…?” Peter muttered and shook his head.
“Peter… How do I say this? You’re probably not gonna be seeing Levi much longer. I think we’re gonna need a shovel too.” Kyle said grimly.
Peter was astounded. Was his brother really so demented to resort to something as vile as this?
“How… W-why… What?” Peter was speechless. It couldn’t be real.
“Peter…” He again looked back to Levi, who was crying. “We’ll tell Dad he ran away, th-then maybe it won’t be as bad for us. I know how this sounds, but, uh… God I don’t what to say. I-I’m gonna go to the shed, so you stay here and stick with Levi alright?”
Peter gave a slow nod, still unsure if what was going on was even real. Kyle nodded back and turned away, beginning his walk towards the small shed behind the house. Peter turned to look at Levi, who was still crying. He walked to Levi, his entire body shaking.
“Levi? A-are you okay?” He just wanted to close his eyes and wake up in his ragged old bed, but no matter how much he tried to make it all go away, it didn’t work. Levi sniffled, then spoke, his back turned to him.
“P-Peter… Where’s Kyle going…?” Peter had no idea what to tell him.
“Um, he’s getting a uh… a first aid kit.” It was the only other thing he could think of.
“Oh… I-I don’t think that’s gonna help very much. We’re home alone for another two hours or so, and-” He took a shaky breath. “We need to find something fast. We could call somebody, r-right?”
“No. Dad b-b-broke the home phone because he doesn’t trust us. O-only Mom and Dad have phones. Remember what happened last year?” Peter said sadly. He remembered when Kyle tried to use the home phone to call the police after their father had hit Peter with the sharp thing from the shed. He didn’t know the name of the tool, but it hurt. It hurt a lot. When Kyle tried to call the cops, Dad took the phone from him and pushed him, then threw the phone to the ground. He then proceeded to stomp and stomp and stomp. Peter concluded that Levi must’ve blocked that out.
“O-Oh yeah.” The disappointment in Levi’s voice was harrowing. Peter checked over his shoulder to see where Kyle was. He was close to the shed, walking with an unsettling lack of hesitation. “Peter… This is so fucking p-painful.” He turned his head to look at Peter. His eyes were puffy from tears and mucus ran from his nose.
Peter crouched down and wrapped his arms around his brother, giving him the most genuine and loving hug possible. Levi hugged back, his entire body trembling. He couldn’t help but start to cry.
“It’s going to be okay.” Levi whispered. If only Levi knew what Kyle was really doing.
Peter didn’t respond, staying nestled in his warm embrace. They held the hug for as long as they could, not saying a word. At that moment Peter thought he would wake up to find out it was all just a bad dream. He then heard the loathsome voice of Kyle.
“Peter. You gotta get up now.” His voice was a mix of sorrowful and demanding. Peter hesitantly stood up, looking down at Levi. Levi gave him a warm smile.
Peter turned his head to look at Kyle. He stood, holding the long wooden handle of the axe at his side, along with a shovel in his other hand. The blade of the axe shimmered odiously in the sunlight. Levi noticed the tools, his eyes growing wide.
“What are you doing Kyle? Peter, that ain’t a fuckin’ first aid kit.” Levi said, beginning to panic. “Are you guys out of your fucking minds?” Peter looked down at the ground with dismay, closing his eyes. He couldn’t handle it.
“Dad’s just going to hurt you, Levi. He’ll hurt you, along with Peter and I. He might even possibly kill one of us.”
“So killing me is gonna help!? Fuck you!” He spat at him.
Kyle didn’t respond. He dropped the shovel, and handed the axe to Peter.
“What? Wh-what are you doing?” Peter questioned. Kyle didn’t respond.
“Kyle, I may have the broken leg, but I think you’re the one who needs to be axed. What’s wrong with you?” Levi said angrily. Kyle’s expression quickly turned from concerned to angry, and he responded with something that shook Peter to his very core.
“Swing away, Pete.”
Peter was bewildered.
Why did he give it to you? Is it a test? A test to see how loyal you are?
Kyle looked at him. “You can do this for me, right Peter?” He heard the wickedness in his voice. Peter was scared, but knew what had to be done. If he didn’t bring the axe down on Levi, then Kyle would. There was almost no way out.
The weight of the axe pulled him down. He adjusted his grip, holding it with both hands. Levi yelled at him, telling him not to do it. He made a pathetic attempt to crawl away, only to damage his leg more. He let out a yelp of pain.
(Swing away, Pete)
Peter closed his eyes, feeling the smooth handle of the axe.
He held the axe high, and he heard Levi scream.
With a terrible shriek, Peter swung the axe. Not down, but to his right. Before Kyle could even react properly, the blade sliced into his belly. He looked down to the axe, and then at Peter, horrified.
“P-P-Peter… Y-you idiot.” He fell back, the axe pulling away from him as he did. His body met the ground with a hard thump, and blood seeped through his shirt, pooling on his stomach. Peter dropped the axe and ran to Levi.
“Are you okay? Levi?” Peter said anxiously. Levi breathed heavily, his face frozen into an expression of sheer confoundment.
“Holy shit…” He looked at Peter with wide eyes. “You basically just killed him.” His voice was beginning to slur.
“It was a st-stupid idea.” Tears rolled down his cheeks and he was barely able to speak. “Wh-why would h-he try to k-k-kill you?” He hugged him with all of his might, though Levi didn’t hug back, confusing Peter. He pulled back and looked at Levi. His eyes were slowly beginning to shut. Peter looked at his leg, realizing the amount of blood that he was losing.
“L-Levi? Come on, please d-don’t die! No, Levi!”
As Levi’s eyes fully shut, Peter’s world began to fragment, his mind unable to cope with the situation anymore.
Levi continued to bleed from his leg profusely, creating a small puddle of red where his leg lied. Peter’s two brothers lied on the ground, bleeding to death, and Peter wasn’t able to do anything about it. He couldn’t think straight, his thoughts went at a million miles an hour. Kyle’s last words before he fell rang through his mind as he cried uncontrollably where he sat.
(Peter, you idiot.)
Peter soon calmed down, sniffling and hiccuping as he sat up. He looked back at Kyle. He had clearly tried to reach out for the axe, but failed to grasp it. His eyes gazed up at the sky, and his entire body quivered as he breathed. Eventually his breathing stopped and his body lied still.
“K-Kyle? Hello?” Kyle didn’t respond. He gave a hopeless giggle as one last tear was shed. Peter’s eyes shifted to the shovel that lied on the ground nearby. He had just wanted to save Levi’s life and keep his demented brother from doing anything to him, but all he had done was kill Kyle in an emotional rage and leave Levi to die. He couldn’t do anything to help them. Instead of crying again, he chuckled lightly, not sure of how to react to anything anymore. He stood up and walked towards the shovel, bending down and picking it up from the ground. His body shook from laughter as the world fell apart all around him. His brothers laughed with him too, and Peter felt at ease in their company.
He held the shovel with both hands, looking at Kyle, then Levi. Their bodies may have lied still, but in Peter’s world they were right there with him, laughing hysterically along with him.
Peter soon calmed down and looked at the shovel, it’s head rusty and old. He had to bury them. Bury them in the ground.
It took a lot of work, but he had the company of his brothers to help him get through. Eventually he had dug two shallow graves, just for his brothers. He managed to drag them into the holes, finishing the process by shoveling in the dirt and patting it down to make it look nice. He and his brothers thought that this was hilarious, and they laughed loudly in their graves. Peter asked if they were comfortable. They simply laughed. He assumed that meant yes.
He used grass and leaves to hide them, and then ran home to find a place to hide. As he dug, he realized how angry he felt towards his Mom and Dad. How they had hurt him and his brothers constantly through physical and verbal abuse. And this time, they had killed the only friends he had ever had: Kyle and Levi. They made it so that branch would snap if they broke the rules. His parents of course knew they would eventually climb the trees, and that one of them would fall. It was all part of their sick little plan to get rid of him and his brothers, but they didn’t get Peter. He giggled with glee.
His mother and father would eventually arrive, but he wasn’t scared. That was all okay.
Because the bloody head of that axe would bring them down anyway.
Posted in Creepy Pasta and tagged Ghost by cnkguy with no comments yet.
6 Dec, 2017
Reading Time: 7 minutes
Umm… hi. I am currently in a bed, inside St. Anne’s Hospital in North London. Dr. Martin kindly allowed me to use his laptop, so I can explain how I got here, and what happened to me.
My name is David Argento, I am 16 years old, and…apparently I am suffering from a mental illness of some kind.
There was only so much I could take in from the doctor’s words in the opposite patient room, since I have a bloody massive headache.
I’ve been given a fair amount of Ibuprofen, but this headache seems permanent. But I don’t care….I absolutely must get this written down at all costs. Anyways, you might be wondering how I got here. Here is my story:
About a four nights ago, I went upstairs to the loft and took my old schoolbooks to the burning pile. I just finished my G.C.S.Es, and like all my friends, hated every single subject I did. Math, History, English – especially English. You name it, I really hated it. So I found the books exactly where I left them a few months back (or dumped, more like) in a corner that was so old, there was enough dust to make a candy floss (cotton-candy).
I scorned the moment I looked at them again, except I knew this would be the last time I’d have to look at them. So I collected them all underneath one arm. Disgusting. I considered changing clothes shortly afterwards.
But then, something caught my eye. I’m not really sure how I noticed it, but I remember being so intrigued by it that I dropped the books on the loft floor and picked it up. It was a red CD-ROM case, about the size of the average book. There were no words of any kind, even when I turned it over on the other side, sod all. I was kind of excited, it looked like a computer game that the previous house owners had left behind. Since I absolutely loved computers at the time, I was interested in giving it a go on my Dell.
But when I opened the case, the disc inside lacked any kind of artistic illustrations, instead just a bland, white colour with some text written on it in black marker pen. The words were: “CHATROOM 98″. I wasn’t exactly pleased when I learned it wasn’t a game, but since someone had actually went through the effort of making a CHATROOM disc, rather than the vast chatrooms available on the internet, I concluded it would be somehow different. That, I got right.
Having kicked the worthless books down the attic ladder, I inserted the disc inside my old laptop. After a brief moment, a red box with no text in it appeared. I wasn’t sure what to make of it at first, but it seemed to linger there for half a minute. Then, the screen went black for a brief moment, and flashed. The words “Welcome to CHATROOM 98″ appeared at the top centre of the screen. Chatroom 98? What was the significance of that number? Then, what appeared to be a white text box opened up in the centre. I didn’t know what to type, so I randomly put: “Hello.”
I didn’t expect any kind of response but then I got one. A person by the name of DARWYN CLARKE replied “Good Afternoon.”
There was no possible way that this person was real, it seemed like I was the only possessor of this CHATROOM disc. Then I realized it was one of those Chatbots; a software designed to stimulate an intelligent conversation with whoever talks to it. ICT was the only thing that I was good at.
I still thought it was strange, though. I’d only lived in my current house for 6 years, but I had never encountered that red box in my entire life. I suppose the houses’ previous owners must have owned it. But it’s not like they owned a computer – unless you count the smashed to pieces one that we threw away to the dump when we first arrived. Anyway, I tried to start a conversation, to see to what extent the A.I. had been programmed.
“Lovely weather we’re having,” I wrote. No sooner than three seconds, Mr. Clarke replied, “No, it seems rather miserable today.” I was taken aback. The weather was, more or less, exactly how he put it. I didn’t know either, until I looked out the window, and saw that it was about to rain.
It seemed the books had one more day to live. But I wasn’t too surprised; the Chatbot was probably programmed to say that, and since this is England I live in, it could have been more than likely. I then typed in,
“So what are your favourite movies?” Again, I got a response, “I don’t watch movies. I prefer the theater.” The theater? Was I talking to an old man?
I replied, “How old are you?”
I didn’t care if the bot got offended, it would have to give me an answer eventually. The answer was, “I’ll tell you about myself. I was born in 1867, and grew up with two sisters, whom I hated.” Okay, right, whoever programmed this was clearly having a laugh. I typed back, laughing hysterically as I wrote,
“Well I was born in 2098, with two identical twin brothers who are also aliens from the planet Boogaloo. I am also Jesus.” I wondered what the senile old man would say next; I knew it was a chatbot, but I kept thinking it was a real person for some unexplainable reason. He said, “Really? How droll. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jesus. Have your brothers abducted anyone yet?”
I cracked up again; whoever made this must have done an impressive job. I typed in, “Yes, they are actually alien pedophiles, who prey on human children. You’d better watch out, they also have a fetish for CD-ROMS!”
The next reply was just plain unsettling. Clarke replied, “Well, although I may appear to be a CD-ROM, I was actually a human myself. Once. Until I faced judgement for my transgressions. ”
I didn’t know what the fuck he was saying, but the poignant detail of his description startled me for a second. It felt…real. Too real. And then, to my surprise, he typed another message:
“You don’t understand? Let me make myself plain. My sisters, whom I hated, met with a tragic accident.”
I was starting to feel cold. This was not just a chatbot. This must have been a psycho chatbot, or something. Or it was a big joke. I typed in, to see his reaction: “Do you know what else my brothers have done, lately?”. And then, I was met with the biggest surprise of all. Darwyn Clarke responded again, only this time: I could see his message being typed, like a ticker tape typewriter. “You are an only child, David.”
What the actual fuck? I was seriously getting creeped out now, so I typed in “What the fuck are you?” And the response simply couldn’t have been made by A.I. It seemed too much like a human was actually talking to me.
“LET ME TELL YOU A STORY. DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HOUSE’S PREVIOUS OWNERS?”
I sat there like an idiot, staring at the computer, awaiting a response.
“THE SAME THAT HAPPENED TO MY TWO SISTERS. REMEMBER, I DESPISED BOTH OF THEM.”
That was it. I moved the cursor to the top right corner to click the cross button, and end this nightmare. I was relieved. I had only been talking to it for five minutes, but it seemed like two hours. But when I tried to shut down the P.C, the unthinkable happened.
The computer became unresponsive. It went all glitched and fucked up. Worse still, the chatroom opened by itself! I got another message, and by this time I was sure to be hallucinating by now.
“YOU HAVE NOT HEARD EVERYTHING YET.”
I scrambled at the keyboard, I was losing my mind. “Are you fucking with my computer? STOP!!! This is seriously not funny!”
Finally, I think this is where it happened. Darwyn Clarke typed in again, this time in a much slower ticker tape typewriting fashion than last time. I could hear nothing more than my own heartbeat. It intensified more and more, with each passing letter. My face was practically melting with sweat.
As I focused more and more on the letters as they were being typed: the horrified expression on my face would have become so visible, I think I remember seeing it in the reflection of my laptop. The final message that he gave me, which lost me my sanity and ruined my health was: “LOOK BEHIND YOU.”
I remember feeling as if everything around me was slowing down. I really was worried. Part of me knew that there would be something behind, and a smaller part tried to assure me that there was nothing there. I shut my eyes, and clenched my teeth violently together, then shot my head back like a bullet. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I spat out a weak laughter, and nodded my head in relief, and I felt like everything was safe again. Until I looked back to my computer monitor. I must have seen it the moment I swiveled my chair, but it caught me anyway.
There was a face. A FUCKING FACE of a man. A FUCKING PALE, WHITE MAN, who was grinning at me, on my laptop screen. His hair was blonde, and he seemed to be in his mid-twenties, but his facial expression was the exact opposite of friendly, his eyes were crimson red.
I only saw it for a nanosecond of a nanosecond, but that was all I could take. After that, apparently I screamed violently, and then fell unconscious for 4 hours. That’s what Dr. Martin told me. He’s the guy looking after me at the moment. He really doesn’t know what I’ve been through.
So, here I am now, sitting in a bed at 4:30 A.M, typing this story to the world. Even as I type I still worry that the face will appear once again and scare the shit out of me. I seemed to be suffering from a trauma. My eyes have grown dark purple circles around them, because I have literally not slept at all since the incident. I tried sleeping, but that face… that face stops me from sleeping.
Now that I have written this story, I urge everybody to watch out. If you see a red CD-ROM case, throw it away. Do not open it and do not use it. I am now going to jump out a third story window. I can’t take this anymore. I am fucking scared. I want to die now! If anyone tries to resuscitate me, then fuck you too. And do NOT, I repeat, do NOT go looking for Darwyn Clarke. He may or may not be real, but he can drive you insane.
You have read this message.
DO NOT LOOK FOR DARWYN CLARKE.
IF YOU FIND HIM, YOU WILL LOSE YOUR MIND!
CREDIT : CreepsMcPasta
Posted in Creepy Pasta and tagged Ghost by cnkguy with no comments yet.
5 Dec, 2017
Reading Time: 6 minutes
Jennifer was proud of herself, walking down the nature trail in the public park, huffing from the exertion she was putting into moving quickly. She’d been putting on a few pounds the past few months since her break up with Daniel, and it’d only been fueling her ever-growing depression, which fed her ever-growing waistline.
But now she was doing something about it! Dressed in a tight black tee-shirt with a pair of biker shorts, she walked down the trail with purpose, sweating from the hot summer day. The heat of Virginia was only matched by the beauty that it held when the flowers all bloomed across the state. She smiled wickedly at the thought.
Daniel had horrible allergies.
Stopping for a short water break, Jennifer pulled her water bottle from her side satchel, glugging down a good portion of the frosty bottle in one long go. Smacking her lips, she screwed the top back on, before heaving a long sigh, trying to catch her breath. The long buzzing of the cicadas combined with the rustling of the branches overhead as the wind blew through the wooded area, bringing the scents of summer to Jennifer’s nose… Why, she just couldn’t see why she hadn’t done this before!
“H-Help…” A low voice moaned from a distance away, off the trail and deeper into the woods.
“Hello?” She called out, quirking her head to the side to try and hear the cry again, or if it had just been a figment of her imagination.
“H-Help…” The voice, a low voice, called out from the depths of the forest. “It hurts…”
“Who’s out there?” Jennifer called out, taking a step closer to where she thought she heard the voice coming from.
“H-Help… it hurts…” The voice was definitely male, and from the sound of it older. It seemed to be coming from perhaps twenty to thirty feet into the wood, where Jennifer thought she saw a clearing.
“Hold on, I’m coming!” Jennifer said, pushing through the underbrush and jogging towards the low moans of pain coming from the woods. Cursing as the underbrush cut up her calves, she hopped from open patch to open patch, huffing as she fought to try and find a decent path towards the person in distress.
Finally breaching the tree line, she saw a meadow of blooming sunflowers, a haze of pollen flitting above the wide-open petals, bees buzzed to and for while butterflies fluttering from flower to flower. And in the middle of it all, was a man with his back facing Jennifer, kneeling amidst the wildflowers, his head tilted to the side.
“H-Help me…” the man said, a light gurgling beneath his words.
“Are you injured? Do I need to call 911?” Jennifer asked, marching into the meadow and up towards the man’s still form. His whole attire was wrong for the weather, a thick maroon sweater over a bulky torso with dirty jeans. From the sides of his head she could see he had long hair, and longer sideburns.
“It hurts…” he moaned once more, irritating Jennifer.
“Look, if you want my help then you need to tell me what’s wrong with you!” She said, walking up behind him, grasping his shoulder and pulling him to look at her.
A wide open mouth that was contorted, dislocated greeted her in a low moan, with a pitiless gaze from eyeless sockets. The bearded man’s skin was drawn tight over his body, as if he didn’t have any water in him, and patches of skin opened up with a rash of honey-combed wounds. Still kneeling, the man reached up and grabbed onto Jennifer’s arm with an iron grip, tugging her close to his opened maw. Shrieking, she almost didn’t hear the buzzing coming from him. When she saw what was causing it she began to shriek more.
Belching forth clouds of angry bees, the man vomited the swarm directly onto Jennifer’s face, where she felt their sharpened legs dig and cut into her face. From the holes in his skin more bees popped out and flew onto her, tiny legs dissecting her piece by piece before flying back into the body of the man. Jennifer struggled, but found she was almost incapable of moving between the man’s tight grip and a series of sharp stings appearing all over her face and neck, the initial stab painful, but the area becoming numb within moments.
The man moved, shifting with a horrid rigidness as he lowered Jennifer to the ground beneath the sunflowers, into a pile of bones. Pressing her deep into the soft earth, he continued pouring out gouts of the flying insects, all of which seemed to be harvesting her. She could feel the warmth of her own blood trickling onto her shirt, dampening it, but her face and neck were numb. She could barely breathe from all of the insects swarming over her face, and with every breath she took, however shallow, a few insects crawled into her mouth, where they began to cut into her tongue.
Choking on her screams, she struggled in vain to try and get out of the man’s grasp. Her hands, slick from blood and stinging with hundreds of slashes and missing hunks of flesh, slid along his arms, and her kicks to his stomach just seemed to rile the bees up as they swarmed over her.
With one final savage kick to the man’s chest, she almost cried in victory as she felt his sternum break, and his chest collapse. The man immediately crumpled to the side of her, and the swarm dissipated, flying above in a swirling cortex of bloody gobbets of flesh. Gasping for air, Jennifer pried herself from the man’s grip and picked him once more in the chest, before crawling backwards through the sunflowers and assorted bones away from him. The sound of buzzing droned on and on around her, making her head swim from the combination of toxins and blood loss.
Dizzy, she collapsed back, gasping for air, the bees continued to fly in a swirling tornado above her, forming a wall around her so she couldn’t escape, at least not easily. She heard the man hacking and coughing, moaning in agony as he struggled to maintain his own breath with a cracked sternum. Jennifer sat up on her elbows, looking over at the man.
If she could have screamed she would have. All she managed was a panicked gurgle.
Protruding from the man’s distorted mouth was a large bee, some six inches long, which crawled up from the throat of the man as he jerked and twitched in his final moments of life. The sides of the bee had tubes, and instead of a yellow ringed thorax, this one was shiny black like some hellish wasp. Testing its wings once, twice, it slowly rose into the air and began lazily flying towards Jennifer, long legs dangling below.
“H-Hurts… Help me…” The large bee droned its tone high and brittle. “Are you injured? Injured. H-Hurts… Help me…”
It mimics what it hears! Jennifer thought frantically, edging away through the wildflowers, eyes locked on the hell wasp growing ever closer. When she reached a certain point, a hailstorm of flesh-eating bees descended upon her, this time merely stinging her into submission, slowly paralyzing her. Dear god, no!
Lying amidst the flowers, paralyzed from the combined stings of the numerous bees, there was little Jennifer could do to stop the large one from landing on her chest. She felt its weight, about that of a kitten, pad up her body slowly until the bee was sitting at her lower lip, tugging them down with its mandibles. Two prickly forelimbs reached into her mouth, grasping onto her lower teeth, and begin to pull down, opening her mouth wider and wider, until it was as wide as it could get. A buzz of wings from the wasp was the only warning she got as it pulled even further, twin pops filling her ears as her lower jaw was pulled out of socket.
The pain of bone slipping along bone had Jennifer moaning in agony, but nothing could prepare her for what would be next. The wasp folded its wings and began to wheedle its way down her mouth and into her throat. She could feel it scraping along the sensitive lining of her esophagus, creating lines of blood to help slicken its path, allowing it to slide down that much easier.
For a second, she couldn’t breathe and Jennifer prayed that this would be the end of it, that somehow the insect was killing her and would simply allow her to rot. But then she felt it stirring in her chest, buzzing within a lung. A sharp pain echoed from beneath her sternum, as if something was cutting her insides with a pair of thin, dull scissors.
Then she felt it move again, her chest heaving up and down as her lungs began to operate without her, even when she tried to hold her breath. The tubes! She thought suddenly, trying her best to think through the pain. It’s connected itself up to my lungs on its own!
And just as she tried to scream from that realization did she find herself swarming with bees once more, this time burrowing into her flesh and flying down her throat. She felt them buzzing about in her stomach, and laying down wax over the holes they were burrowing to prevent her from bleeding out. Most worrying of all, she felt the continued stinging of the bees as they slowly began to numb her entire body and, slowly, her mind.
And so Jennifer laid there, amidst the pollen clouds of the wild flowers, bees crawling in and out of her nose and throat, and innumerable holes cut through her tee shirt and bicycle shorts. Staring up into the late afternoon sun, Jennifer’s slow, ponderous thoughts only dwelled on one subject.
To die. She needed to die, and get these bees out of her body.
CREDIT : Nicholas Paschall
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