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The Gravedigger Had an Odd Conversation

by cnkguy
The Gravedigger Had an Odd Conversation

the-gravedigger-had-an-odd-conversationReading Time: 3 minutes

It was hardly past seven that morning when the Gravedigger saw the Earth stir. Fingers, rotted and skeletal, burst forth from the dirt, and with force they pulled their bodies to freedom. It was happening all over the graveyard. Every grave. Every square inch of dirt was overturned. Soon, there were thousands; so many more than the graveyard actually held. A horde of the undead stood before him.

The Gravedigger watched, with his shovel in hand.

He found himself simultaneously horrified and fascinated. The creatures stumbled about. They moved with urgency, but their decrepit bodies only allowed for so much. Yelling and screaming, they started to coalesce near the center of the graveyard.

They were revolting, damned souls.

Just as the Gravedigger went to turn, to flee, a hand gripped his shoulder. The grime soaked deep into his sleeve. It leaked down his arm. Behind him, a man (what was left of him) stared into the Gravedigger’s eyes. The corpse’s face had long since lost its tissue, but it had eyes, returned anew to their sockets, that showed nothing but fear. The ghoul spoke to the Gravedigger, and the Gravedigger listened.

“Go,” It begged of him. “Please. Go.”

What sort of madness was this? What trickery of Hell? The Gravedigger brought his shovel to bear, and he swung it down on the corpse. It was met with a revolting, moist crunch. The figure fell. His fingers twitched, and his skull leaked.

From behind, three more figures came. Two ignored the Gravedigger. They bent to pick up the wounded husk at the Gravedigger’s feet. They dragged him on with all the strength they could muster. They carried him like a wounded ally. The third figure, what had once been a woman, perhaps, spoke to the Gravedigger.

She pleaded.

“Go. Please. Tell them.”

The Gravedigger couldn’t move. He wouldn’t. These fiends were no masters of him. Why did they command him so? For what purpose? Answers! He demanded answers!

“Why?” he asked, the words falling out of his bearded face. “Why aren’t you in the ground?”

The ghoul didn’t blink. She simply told him the terrible truth.

“Hell isn’t safe anymore.”

Those words. The Gravedigger couldn’t even comprehend them. What was the meaning of them? Hell? Safe? What kind of haven was the pit of eternal damnation?

“What are you talking about?”

Had she a tear to cry she would have let it fall. Instead, she had to use her trembling voice to convey her fears.

“Lucifer is dead. He killed Him. He is coming.”

The words held no meaning for the Gravedigger, for he had not been there. He had not seen the horrors that even the denizens of Hell itself couldn’t describe. Then, from the graves, dark figures with eyes of flame and hatred came. They moved like smoke, and they filled the air with their sulfurous fumes. The Gravedigger watched as demons, Satan’s orchestrators of pain and suffering, began to assist the poor, wandering souls below. They started to stack atop each other. One by one, their bodies built the foundation.

What in the name of God? He could only ponder.

A collective lamenting cascaded down from the hills around. The Gravedigger saw them. From every direction more hordes moved together. More undead. They lumbered forth, with his cemetery in their sights. Their hellish rendezvous. The Gravedigger was speechless. The ghoul instructed him.

“Go. To your family. We’ll need them too.”

“My—” he questioned the request, “My family?”

“The living,” the thing corrected, her gaze skyward. “We’ll need them too, if we are to make it.”

“Make it? Where?”

The ghoul cried as she wandered forth. Urgency flooded her words.

“The gates! We have to make it to the gates.”

The Gravedigger shook his head. Their aim was clear, but his teachings were concrete.

“What’s judged is judged. He won’t take you, or any of us unworthy.”

That stopped her, if for just a moment. She turned, for he knew nothing.

“We seek not redemption,” she said. “We damned seek to warn the righteous.”

The honesty in the ghoul’s voice brought a heavy weight to the Gravedigger’s stomach. He couldn’t stand. The Earth below had started to tremble. The Gravedigger fell to the dirt as his knees gave in, and with his face to the ground, he heard it.

There was a deep, unbridled scream echoing below the surface. A demented laugh. The sound of a thousand hornet wings, and insect feet. It grew closer. Climbing. As he stood, bodies were flung atop each other, as the demons and the forgotten built their tower to salvation.

“Who is He?” The Gravedigger asked. It was his turn to plead, but the corpses said nothing. It didn’t take much for the Gravedigger to realize that they couldn’t respond even if they wanted to. They didn’t know.

As the Gravedigger ran home, the ghoul uttered a final mantra under her breath. The words still tasted so alien to her, so vile and disgusting. It was all they had left.

“God must know that He is coming.”

CREDIT : Ryan Brennaman

The post The Gravedigger Had an Odd Conversation appeared first on Creepypasta.



Creepy Pasta

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Dark Redemption

by cnkguy
Dark Redemption

dark redemptionReading Time: 8 minutes

It was around nine forty five PM. loud heavy winds blowing hard as if it could rip trees from the ground like a bored child with paper. A snow storm had hit the small hazy town that is located in the country of England. Probably the biggest one they had in years. Aidan Mills was walking home after the long dreadful day at his underpaying job. He was a handsome man, probably in his mid twenties. He was tall, just for being a lad. Over six feet. His skin almost a pinkish color of blush as his eyes were a dark unnatural silver yet everyone didn’t seem to take notice. His hair was a mess, dark brown and all curled up a coat of unwashed shiny grease covering it. Him not being able to afford much such as soap and other needed things. Aidan wasn’t much of a man, more like one of those average overly happy looking people you’d see in those old cheesy movies or cartoons. The only problem about him is that he wasn’t happy at all. He had been suffering with extreme anxiety and depression most of his life. From multiple events that had happened, his mother committing suicide after she didn’t want to keep Aidan at birth, the town folks shunning her for that choice. Most the people being Christan and Catholic. His father left an abandoned Aidan for another family when he had found him doing unknown kinds of drugs and other distinct herbs. He did it as a stress reliever yet his father wouldn’t put up with it. So he left Aidan when he was only fifthteen. Dark circles were around his dull silver eyes from the lack of sleep he gets. He seemed so unhealthy that his ribcage was easy to see from not eating on many auctions in the week. When he walks into this small town for work it’s like everyone knows everyone, being almost a small village with a few shops and restaurants. Aidan was the odd one out of two hundred or more others. The way he’d act or just the way he hardly comes out from his old run down house. when he’d go out to work towns folk would always ask how he is doing or if he needed anything, him being, well trying to be a polite person would reply with a simple quick “yes, I am” or just a nod and other day’s he’d just reply with a twitch and crack of the neck. Like some sort of sensation came over him for a split second, not even being able to mutter words. He would just look at them and walk away. The winds grew stronger as Aidan made his way through the white freezing hell. Finally making it up to his door step, fiddling with a cold bundle of keys before the door gets thrown open from the hard winds. Stepping inside, Aidan slammed the door shut swiftly. The house he lived in is what you’d expect from a man like him. Dark pealing green paint on the walls, the cracks in the plank wood allowing harsh winds to break through making the place so cold. Flickering lights would always go out and come back on, a torn mattress in a small room over to the side with clothes covering the floor with a torn brown leather couch in what seems to be a living area. Taking off his coat Aidan rushed to the kitchen table, grabbing a white pill bottle that had the word ‘antidepressants’ written on it with what seems to be a sharpy marker. Opening the bottle with his shivering hands he allowed the white gridded cap to fall on the floor as he tips the pills out from the bottle onto his hand popping three into his mouth and swallowing, not bothering to drink it down with water. The sound of him coughing mixed with the winter winds echoed throughout his house giving him goosebumps. Aidan slips his light jacket off with his black and silver striped scarf walking to his bed room flopping himself down onto the creaky torn mattress and sighed. When he turned his head to the bedside desk there was a small framed picture of his father and mother. Breaking into tears Aidan took the picture and threw it at the wall. Glass of the frame shattering all over the wooded floor. Stuffing his face into the pillow he began to cry himself to sleep before everything went black. He soon woke hearing intense banging on the front door of the house. It was dark outside still, Aidan not bothering looking at the time he got up and stumbled over to the door mumbling “yeah yeah, I’m coming”. Gripping the cold rusty bronze handle, he creaks the door open a heavy gust of wind and snow blowing in forcing the door wide open on its own. When Aidan looked he saw a young girl, in her early twenties from the looks of it. She was shivering, her fingers a dark purple and her skin a pale frozen white. All she had on was snow covered jeans and a sweater. She had to hold onto the side of the door way to keep herself standing. All she could mutter was a weak “help” before collapsing onto the floor with a loud thud. With his quick thinking Aidan picked the girl up off the cold frozen ground and brought her inside. Taking her to his bedroom he put her down on his bed and quickly covered her up in ripped but warm wool blankets. Aidan was able to get a closer look at the sleeping beauty. She had dark chocolate brown hair that flows down past her hips and a small agile body, her cheeks a dark red from the cold. Soon time passes the young girl opening her sapphire eyes that shined from the dimly lit gasoline powered hurricane lamp that was beside her. She looks around before sitting up confused at where she might be. Not remembering much, she got up her limbs feeling stiff and weak like she hasn’t moved in decades. noticing a note on the bed side table written in messy handwriting she grabs it and reads. ‘meet me out in kitchen’ the note says. With a small sigh that is exactly what she does, taking small steps on the cold creaky floor she makes her way out of the room to the kitchen. There was Aidan, rocking in his seat fiddling with a small white bottle supposedly for pills. Aidan then notices the confused and shocked girl in front of him “oh! Hello!” He quickly says. The girl looked bugeyed at Aidan before speaking quietly “where . . . where am I?” She asks with a pathetic stutter glancing at the tall lad then behind him at the overflowing sink of dishes and messy counter top of pill bottles and other object. “You were at my door step caught in that horrid storm. I did my best to help. I surely hope you don’t mind” he explains like he had practiced what to say. Out of habit Aidan placed his hand on the back of his neck with a awkward look to him. The girl sighs as a moment of since went by feeling like forever for the both of them. Then the girl broke it with “my name is Jill” and Aidan staying quiet being caught off guard. Soon she repeated her self from Aidan just being quiet as he shook his head and then replied “oh! Uh, name’s Aidan” he said putting a hand out to her “it’s a pleasure to meet you” he says as she shook his hand lightly “like wise” she replied with a small smile. Out of both there surprise they begun to talk, Aidan making some tea for the both of them. It has been awhile since he had ever socialised with someone like this before and it made him feel . . . good. He felt just calm like all his worries had just vanished. Then a week passes and just like that there relationship has set off. Surprisingly Jill seemed happy with Aidan and same goes to him. Aidan’s depression and anxiety had almost went away, Jill being there when he needs someone most which helps him a lot. Couple months pass and they were still together, the month being August now they would sit outside and just relax with each other and everyone noticed how Aidan seemed more . . . lively now. Jill had helped Aidan get a better job so now he is getting enough for them both. Soon a year passes and Jill is finally moved in with Aidan and they are planning on buying a new house then the old run down cabin they are in. Everything was still going good for Aidan like some dream came true after all. If he was honest it seemed to good to be true. He was even planning on asking Jill of she’d be his wife using almost all of his money up on a gold diamond ring. Once again everything just seemed so perfect. But things soon started to go downhill, Jill would hardly ever hug or kiss Aidan anymore and always call him a weak baby or something of that sorts when he’d cry from some panics attack. When she wasn’t around he went back to doing drugs and other stuff. He then got fired from his job for not having proper ‘work informant health’ and his disorders were coming back seeming worse then the last time. He doesn’t understand why he puts up with it, it just comes naturally to him to he assumes. Everything was happy! He just wanted it to stay like that. But everyone needs to wake up from a dream at some point. He was still determined to ask Jill to be his wonderful wife, putting all this bad stuff that has been happening aside. He repeats the same things in his mind these positive lies as he waited and and waited for Jill to return home from wherever she had gone too. Looking at the time he noticed that I was late out where was she? Shouldn’t she had been home by now? He tries not to think about it and with a small sad sigh he went to bed, expecting to wake up in the morning to see Jill in bed beside him but that wasn’t the case. Aidan got woke up by what sounds like Jill and some other male person laughing in the living room. He slowly got up and went out to see what was happening and stop dead in his tracks to Jill, the love of his life kissing one of the wealthier men in town. Jill not realizing Aidan was home from being fired from work gasped and got up quickly “Aidan?! I didn’t think you’d be home!” Jill squeals out. Aidan was just shocked at all of this. Jill was wearing a fancy blue dress to match her eyes with gems and jewels dawning on her, this wealthier man obviously treating and spoiling Jill. “Get out of my house” Aidan mumbles, holding the tears back that were swelling up in his eyes. Jill walked over and gently gave him a kiss off pity just to be slapped across the face by Aidan and him throwing the wedding ring he was gonna give Jill into her face. She held her cheek before she walked to her new lover. The man then kissed Jill and they walked out of the house closing the door behind. Aidan couldn’t handle it anymore. His chest hurts as a sinking feeling just surrounds him as thoughts and feelings of depression and anxiety flood his mind. He cries feeling completely heart broken of what just happened and that’s what sent him over the edge. He went out back his breathing heavily shaky. His hands feeling shaky and cold as he grabbed a long bundle of rope. Going back inside he went to his room not even making a sound anymore, not one peep. He took a chair and stood on it as he tried the rope up and around his neck. everything just felt slow, like the whole world just stopped for a minute. Aidan heard his own neck back and break when he stepped off the chair. This breathless feeling swelling over him as this burning feeling of sadness and rage came over his dying body there and then. About two months pass, everyone wanting to forget about what happened the two month a prior. The whole town seemed different now after ‘that’ had happened. Yet no one understood what happened with Jill. The authorities had went into her house after no one seeing her for some quite some time and what they found was shocking. Covering the walls was the words “you lied to me” painted messily in dark dry crimson blood with Jill’s pocky propped up. Her eyes completely torn out, her neck sliced open and a clean slit going down from her chest to her pelvis with organs cleanly ripped out and all over the floor. It was absolutely sickening. To this day everyone still wants to forget about the those incidents, just classifying it as some kind of legend or horror story. But those people still know the truth and that truth will always haunt them for the rest of their lives.

CREDIT : Max Mayfield

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Creepy Pasta

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An Uninvited Guest

by cnkguy
An Uninvited Guest

uninvited guestReading Time: 5 minutes

As Samuel edged closer and closer to the staircase the scratching grew louder and louder until it became a continuous clawing. This was not the first time this has occurred since he had moved here almost five weeks ago, but it was never like this, It seemed louder and lasted for much longer.

Three weeks after he moved into the house Samuel had begun to notice that many things around the house were strange and uncommon. He also notice that every piece of furniture that was left in the house by the previous owner was disproportionate and out of place, it was a small difference, barely noticeable but once he did everything just seemed wrong. All the chairs being too short, the kitchen table being too tall, the bed was abnormally narrow and the ceilings seem far too high, but this was not the worst part about the house, one week after he finished moving into the house he was rearranging the basement and he found a small door in the corner at the bottom of the stairs. The door was just a little over four feet in height and less than two feet wide. After countless of hours of trying to figure out what lie behind the door, what it meant? Why it was there? Samuel could only stare and wonder as none of his questions were answered. The thing he found particularly strange about the door was that no matter how hard he tried, he was not able to turn the knob.

Samuel now stood before the disproportionate staircase. He took the first step into the darkness and the old wooden boards creaked under his weight, And the sound stopped… The entire house was engulfed into an eerie silence and for the first time this night samuel realized the danger that could be waiting at the bottom of those steps. He flicked on the florescent lights that had been installed into the basement before he had moved in. The dim and unreliable light given off by the fluorescent bulbs created shadows on the far wall and made the entire situation feel even more worrying. He cautiously walked over to the small door adjacent form the stairs, he knelt down and tried the doorknob, it was no use. At this point samuel was running out of ideas about what could have been causing the sound and decided to return to bed. He ascended the staircase, stumbling on the last, disproportionate step and walked back to his room.

It was no more than an hour later when he was ripped from the warm embrace of sleep for the second time, but it was not the same noise as before. This time it sounded more as if someone was rattling the knob of his front door. He jumped out of bed and ran down his hallway leading to his front door, as he reached it he grabbed the door knob only to find that it was firmly in placed and still locked, no one was at the door, but yet the rattling continued… Samuel turned his attention to the staircase once more and half sprinted to the bottom. A wave of hate, anger and utter disbelief washed over him as he saw that the knob to the tiny door was shaking violently, without thinking he grabbed a hammer that sat on the shelf to his left and began to pound on the door. The rattling had stopped long before now but he did not care all he thought about was getting to the other side of the door. He broke the wooden boards, and after he had managed to make a decent size hole in the door he stopped. He took a moment to catch his breath and through the hole in the door all he saw was darkness on the other side, and the knob began to rattle once more.

Samuel stared blankly as the door knob continued to rattle and at this point he knew something was wrong, something very bad was about to happen if he stayed in his home any longer. The door knob stopped and Samuel was about to turn and run back up the staircase. He would leave the house for the night, rent a hotel room and maybe return in the morning to collect his things, then he would move. There was a slight click, Samuel turned back to the door to see the knob begin to turn and the door slowly creaked open and at first all he saw was darkness from inside of the small opening and then to his horror and dismay he saw two long, spindly arms emerge from the darkness, grasping the door frame on both sides as they pulled, and something impossible large to have been confined into the small room which lay beyond the door slowly began to drag itself through the opening. First came a head, and then a torso, and a pair of legs crawled into the basement.

Whatever this creature was that now towered over Samuel, it was not happy about it’s current predicament. It’s head thudded against the ten foot high basement ceiling, forcing it to hunch over. The creature had dark pure black skin and gleaming golden eyes which Samuel found it almost impossible to tear his gaze away from. It had white hair that covered the beast from waist down and from the elbows down to its wrist. The creature had long, bony limbs, and fingers that ended in razor sharp claws that gleamed like polished black steel. Samuel could see every bone in its body and it looked like it had been nearly starved to death. It had the body of the man but the head of a large dog or wolf, its mouth was set into a ferocious snarl of jagged teeth coated in a thick layer of plaque and blood.

The creature let out a deep guttural snarl, and with one hand he grabbed for Samuel but missed sending him sprawling onto the cold cement floor. He climbed to his feet and launched himself up the staircase but the beast followed in pursuit. Samuel managed to make it to the top but then became aware of an intense pressure on his ankle as he was yanked back down the staircase, hitting his chin several time on the hardwood steps. The beast was now holding him upside down by the ankles, Samuel kicked his feet trying to free himself from the strong grip of the creature but he soon found that all of his efforts would be futile. Samuel opened his mouth in a last ditch effort to scream, but stop as he watched the tip of his tongue fall to the floor, along with a mouth full of blood.

It reached its other hand and seized him by the throat, holding him closer to its face. He could smell its putrid breath as he stared into it’s golden eyes. This would be the last thing Samuel would see in his short life, its hand tense as it began to squeeze the life out of him. Samuel’s eyes widen as his life came to an end. He let out one last bloodied breath as his eyes were forced to stare into the golden abyss, his grip tightened around the creatures wrist until his thumb touched his fingers. Blood streamed from his open mouth and down his chin as he tried desperately and hopelessly to suck any air into his lungs. Darkness creeped around the edges of his vision until it seemed to smothered him from every possible angle. Samuel thrashed once more and lost all feeling and he fell out of the world he had known all his life. The creatures malicious smile spread from ear to ear as savored the last weakened struggle of its prey.

CREDIT : Theren Alister

The post An Uninvited Guest appeared first on Creepypasta.



Creepy Pasta

Posted in Creepy Pasta and tagged by with no comments yet.


by cnkguy

freakReading Time: 6 minutes

I work at the mental ward in my cities hospital. It is not like they depict it in the movies. The place is not filled with insane maniacs and serial killers. Most of our patients are just people who are confused or have certain issues. Sure we get the occasional crazy, but those are more an exception to the rule. Most of them get put straight into the asylums. That is the place that most people think of when they hear about the mental ill or the mental ward.

Recently though we got a new patient. It is a case of severe abuse, mental fatigue and confusion. The kid is in his teens and probably about sixteen years old, at least that’s what is written in his file.

At first it seemed pretty clear that he never was at a real school and came from an abusive home. Pretty soon it became apparent that there was more going on. The community he grew up in sounds more like some sort of cult.

The biggest problem is that the kid isn’t able to describe things well, due to not knowing many words or things. At times I wonder if they were just living in the wilderness.

Things get even weirder when we asked him to describe the place he lived at and the people he lived with. He just looked at us when we said the word people, but didn’t seem to understand. It seemed he didn’t know the word. He said the others were different from him and he was regarded as a freak. After that he said a lot of other things that didn’t make much sense.

It was a week or so ago when the therapist Mrs. Conrad had an idea. Since the kid was able to read and write to a certain extent she got the idea to let the kid type out the stuff he knows. Like a sort of retelling of his past. With the help of the nurses she was able to slowly teach the kid how to use the keyboard and how text editing worked. It was a whole new world for him and the first few days he seemed totally absorbed into it and was happy about every letter he made appear on the screen. At first he just typed out random things, only letters, not even words. After some more talk with Mrs. Conrad though he understood what he was supposed to be doing.

During the first few days he simply typed out what he saw at the hospital, but then he started to tell his story. Honestly I have no idea what to make of this whole thing, but when I am reading the story he write I get goosebumps. I was able to get a copy of the document and I am going to transcribe it here word by word:

Hello I was told to type out my story for the peoples here. It feels really weird to sit here all day but the caretakers said it is good to do.

I am a male one. The caretakers told me I must be about six and ten numbers. They explained what the age number is but it is strange. Back where I come from we do not have them. We only have names.

I lived with many others. We all were different. This word is hard but the caretaker showed me how to type it. Different. The caretakes said it is because of age. Some are smaller and others are bigger because of it. I am not sure if they are right. We had mothers and fathers. Better to say male and female ones who took care of the ones that were smaller and different and needed help like me. The caretakers said it was us being young ones. Children they said. It is a funny word. They say it mean ofsprung. Another word I don’t understand. They explained that it is the ones born from others.

I am bad. I am one that does not belong. I am a freak they said. I was not thrown out or left but also not treated like others. I had a box I slept in outside. The others slept inside. When it was food I only got what the others left or not wanted. The caretakers say it is terrible and were all sad but it is normal for me. I am a freak and freaks live like that. Ever since and always would so I do not ask about. The hits the beating the pain it was normal. It was my life and I only knew that. I often hurt and was hungry but I thought this was right and normal. I was at the place very long and learned speaking and reading like every one. We had a place to learn at from the olders. I was happy that a freak can learn too. I liked learning. My brain was real good not like my body. I was told that a freak can not have a good brain and was beaten by the rest. It was normal and I did not know better.

I know it was bad my body was wrong and different. The others looked not like me and were different. My head and body is weird and all the things coming out of it are wrong. I did not know why. I got older and learned more and often thinked why I was so different. I wanted to know why I was the oly freak. I got hit and said to be happy to be alive. I never asked again but wanted to know still. When it was night I walked. It hurt because my body was weak and weird. The others could do it better. I still did. At night they slept and I was alone. I liked that. The walking was nice and being alone was nice and no beating was nice. I was not not happy. I was a freak so it was normal and I knew. I lived because of the others. My body was to fragile and small and weird and white. Not like thiers. So I was thankful to them.

One night I walked to far. I have a good head and I can think but sometimes I can not think like the others. I can not feel the way and the time like they can. So I walked far away more far than usual. I forgot time because I was thinking. I wondered about other freaks. They said freaks alway were treated like me. My brain is good so I know there were other freaks before me. So I dreamt about more fraks and walked on and on. Slowy not like they do but I still walked off. I tried to get back when it got light but my body is stupid and brain smart but different. I got lost and not home.

I was alone for long time. It went dark and light many times. I got scared. I was not beaten but still missed the others. I can not hunt and eat on my own. My body is dumb my jaw and teeth and head are weird. I tried to eat like the other do and to get animals but they got away always. I am not like them.

I was alone and cried. More then before. I walked on but I was hungry and felt weak. Then during ligh I found a way. The caretaker named it street I think. I was suprised but I had learned about it. I was scared since the other said it was dangerous. I walked on it and it felt weird not normal. I was scared by fast animals often so I hid when they were running. I had to sleep at one point because I was so tired and weak.

That is when the thing happened. I am so happy. I can’t really type the words out but I am not just happy it is more. Happy was when I got to eat and was not beaten but this was different.

I saw others. Not the others from home but other freaks. They rode one of the fast animals. It was weird and I laughed because they ride inside. Oh I got told it was no animal by the caretaker. It is a car. A machine like the comuter I am writing on. I forgot for a moment because there is so much to learn. Learning is fun. I was really happy when I saw the other freaks but also very sleepy. I slept for a long time and when I woke I was at a different place. Not a cave or hut but a special one. A spital I think it is. I am still here. It is the caretaker’s home. There are so many here. I am so happy because it is a freak place. I think all the freaks in the world are here. It is so weird. The caretakers are freaks too only they are different. They are completely white and they have things around their body that others don not. Maybe they are not freaks like me but they look like it.

The caretaker was here for a long time. We talk a lot. I like that but my head hurts from lerning. I am sleepy but they said freak is wrong. I do not know what they mean. They wrote down a word for me. I do not know it. I never heard it but they say it is normal. The word is human.

CREDIT : RehnWriter

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Creepy Pasta

Posted in Creepy Pasta and tagged by with no comments yet.


by cnkguy

OublietteReading Time: 7 minutes

In silence, a final, tranquil silence the village of Kaledane sat. This wasn’t so remote, really, only miles from the seat in Lincoln. And near enough to the sea for the nice fog of misty translucence, a blue light. This way the place was in the morning.
They had back at least one of the missing villagers, the youngest, Mina. She had come home after vanishing months before. It was a miracle.

Saint Martin stood over this village. People thanked him for returning the child. A strange buzzing agreed.

Was there a voice that spoke from the roof of the chapel when people thanked Saint Martin? That was also a miracle. Somehow the darkness was here with her, had followed Mina home. Saint Martin wasn’t buzzing and responding from the roof of the chapel. Mina shuddered to think of who, or rather what, it really might be.

They would put her back into the asylum in Lincoln. She didn’t want to go back there. Medieval insane asylums of this realm were not fun.

Mina stared out her bedroom window and wondered if she should try a different god, if God was okay with that thing sitting on the roof of the chapel. Nobody could see it up there, it managed to stay well hidden from sight, but it was up there, ne’re unrest. Mina knew it and it made her tremble in fear.

There was a boy at her window, two of them. Boys from the village, they believed her because they had seen something awful when they stared too long at the chapel from a vantage point. Something was there, that was not right. She had said so and they had come now at dusk to ask. They had a lantern for the way home after dark.

“You want me to tell you what happened to me? The whole story?” Mina asked them.

Her audience said nothing. They had sneaked out from their cottages with that thing out there, needing to know. The risk was worth finding out what it was. It was talking to people and had done so for weeks now. Ever since Mina had first returned strange things had happened. Now that she was back from the asylum the strangeness had escalated.

Was it dangerous?

“My tale is simple.” Mina told them her story. She wasn’t a good storyteller but her story was true and true stories are always good.

In terror the boys fled home with their lantern blazing an orb of light.

Mina stared again at the chapel of the village, a vigil in the silence.

In night, ever changing. The moon and stars swing round and round but it seems slow to Man. Not to others. Not to Them.

She had gathered berries, green-blue old berries. Very sweet ones that grew in this primordial vale still. Some things were leftover here, next to a frontier forest. The village itself was by no means remote.

The whole world was simply locked amid the domains of Man, encroaching where even his own foot hath not fallen. And it was a simpler, more unexplored region of a slightly quaint realm. Therefore unicorns, white sleek shades of the forest did remain. Those that were quiet enough here did see them.

A gentle woodsman, unarmed, might see one. Unarmed was important, for a bow they knew, despite their untamed and innocent corner, surrounded on all sides by Man’s farmlands and castles. They were intelligent, could speak if they chose. They lived very long lives, an old species of the world, as old as a time, Antediluvian. Or in this case, just a girl picking berries.

She tried to follow it into the dark bowers of its domain, the cool and silent forest. The trees here were ancient and untouched. She was already in the forest before, but a much younger forest were people had come and gone for thousands of years and there were berries and game.

This place was ignored, nobody wanted to come here or had the courage. The world was still too young for this place, even now in the Medieval.

“Go back.” the voice of the creature was not human, it was a whisper and it was feminine, but it was not a human voice. The unicorn stared at her, its presence like a cold splash of water, so surprising. It was not entirely pleasant to behold, however. Time and destruction had tainted it and its single horn was a twisted alacorn, spiraling and straight like a sword from its forehead. Its shadow was a light gray as if it didn’t entirely catch the light, dust motes sparked around it, unable to touch it and its eyes glimmered discreetly as it shimmered like a white veil and was then gone.

“Unicorn.” Mina said after it. She ate some berries then turned to go back, as it had commanded.

It was already too late. She wasn’t sure how fast or cruel or from what direction but a blow struck her and flung her against a tree. Not a happy camper, this denizen of the domain, huge and brown, a flat face and intelligent eyes. It could eat her but had witnessed the unicorn interacting with this human and chose to do no further harm. She might die but it was not going to try any harder to kill her. It scooped up the basket of berries to take with it, holding it in its claws. With restraint it lumbered away, growling almost poetically, bear-like and massive.

Mina’s eyes closed. She heard none of the calls from the villagers as they searched for her. Old Seth the Miller found her and instead of returning her he took her body home, thinking she was dead.

When she was not dead he didn’t have the heart to kill her so he left her laying in a pit in the cellar of his cottage. Then he resumed his normal functions around the village the next day, telling nobody he had found her.

Then Old Seth kept Mina in his cellar and each night he would come to see if she had died of starvation yet. He grew impatient.

One day he brought in the body of Brennar, dragging the man down the steps. From the pit, Mina could see part of this action.

Then she heard the most awful noises, grunting and slurping, squishing noises. Something very terrible was happening.

One day a chair fell into the pit from above for no apparent reason. She started to climb out then heard all these terrible noises, the same gurgling sounds all squishing and bumping the table that was with the chair she had used to climb out.

Mina was afraid, what could it be. She peaked up and it stopped making noise. She wasn’t sure what she was looking at. She gathered her courage and climbed the rest of the way out of the pit.

Then she crawled weakly towards it, to see what it was. A vague dread was in her heart of what it might be, so strange as it sat there on the floor pulsing and throbbing evilly.

A moment of severe terror gripped Mina and she was speaking of what it might be, before it tore her mind apart in such awfulness as what she was seeing. She said:

“I of the pit as witness to this. As they eat the body as a larvae then a pupae transparent hard translucent shell dry hard case but with the glowing greenish yellow golden-brown crust soupy mess skeleton bones inside it grows to this huge gross cocoon.”

But her mind did break after that. For she was running wildly around the cellar of the cottage when Old Seth came home.

And it began to hatch. Both humans watched in fascination as it hatched into a red wasp with white stripes. It stretched its wings, flicking embryonic substances and then began hovering.

“Not your day. Not your day.” it spoke to the man and the girl. It looked at them and it could speak. Its evil insect face had great vicious mandibles and merciless wet compound eyes that dripped a black syrup.

“You used to say that too me!” the girl said, laughing.

“Quiet!” the man ordered. He felt for his keyring, they were all locked in down here in his cellar. He then went for his dagger but the wasp was quicker.

It tackled him and with an insect appendage that looked oddly like a human hand, it took the dagger and stung him with it in the shoulder.

“The acid! Use the acid!” the man told the girl. She got a beaker of acid from the table with the cutting implements. She threw it onto the creature, burning it. Some of the acid got onto the man.

“That was fun!” Mina laughed. The steam of the corrosive reaction was a cloud around its thorax.

“Why wont you just die? Why wont you just die, already?” the creature wondered in repetition of what the man had frequently said to the girl.

She walked over and took his keyring.

“Goodbye.” Mina squinted playfully at him.

“Help me!” Seth begged.

“Nobody can hear you. Nobody can hear you down here.” the creature reminded him. Then it stung him.

Mina started to walk past the pit. Seth gripped her ankle as the venom coursed through him. Mina swung down into the pit, tripped.

She still held the keys. Seth had a death grip on her ankle and held her there, dangling face first. His arm hung down into the darkness of the pit.

Above the creature had paralyzed him but he was not dead and he could still feel its attacks. The wasp started to dissect him with the dagger and it was buzzing evilly as it did this.

Then when it found the organs it started to chew with its mandibles all violently. As it ate him alive the body jerked like a steak getting sawed by a dull steak knife. Mina felt the biting and pulling and tugging and jerking as the arm swung and thrust her into the dark.

Would the hand release her ankle?

It did and she plummeted face first into the pit and then she knew no more.

When she awoke she felt the cake of dried blood on her crown. She climbed free of the muddy pit and found that blood from the body had dried on her head. She had no mark, but the fall had restored her by taking her recent memories. She ignored the body in the dark, too disoriented to really note it. Some part of her was unconcerned for Old Seth for some reason.

Curiously the wooden door had gotten smashed through with tools found around the basement. Smart enough to use tools but not to find the keys? Maybe it was just having too much fun smashing stuff.

Whatever it was. Parts of her memories that made no sense. Flashes and feelings. Starvation, weakness, suffering and then…something terrible down there in the darkness.

Mina walked home.


CREDIT : Derik Schindler

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I’ve Never Seen A Child Eat Their Pet Before

by cnkguy
I’ve Never Seen A Child Eat Their Pet Before

I've Never Seen A Child Eat Their Pet BeforeReading Time: 6 minutes

When I joined the case at 47 County Street, I didn’t know what to expect. As a social worker, I see all kinds of screwed up things from child abuse, to children abusing their parents. Yet, when I got the reports from County Street, I wasn’t expecting much. The initial letters we received were from a neighbor describing loud noises, shouting in the late hours of the night, and a teenager storming off from the household on a bike last winter just after the sound of glass shattering from inside the house.

This apparently had been going on for a few years.

Still, something about the way the cop came in on Tuesday white as a sheet, asking about the case, probably should have at least somewhat set off some alarms. I was ignorant.

There I stood, in the living room of the Bedford family home on County Street, beside myself as the story unfolded. Dan, the father of the three children spoke first with tears in his eyes.

“I’m so glad somebody called on us, my wife and I would have never had the courage to contact anyone about this.”

This struck me as odd, seeing as most people don’t want the authorities or social services knocking at their door.

“Can I offer you some water? Coffee maybe?” That’s what Valarie, Dan’s wife asked me in a hushed voice.

They both looked exhausted, and unbathed, like they’d just been stranded on an island for weeks and were just rescued by me. They seemed indifferent to their surroundings. Calm at the moment, but the tension was kinetic.

“No thank you,” I passed up the offer, I wasn’t comfortable accepting anything from the couple yet.

“Tell me, as we need to get started here, what are your children’s names, how old are they?”

I already had this info, but I needed to survey how these two react to questioning. Valerie answered me.

“Well, Damien is 17. He dropped out of school last week, but he’s not here today. And there’s my little sweetheart, Kelsey. She’s 11. She’s with her grandmother for the weekend.”

“It’s Wednesday m’am.”

“Oh right, I’m sorry. She’s with her Auntie. I lose track, since they’re never here anymore. She’ll be home soon though.”

Her husband stared at her intently, almost not staring at her at all. More like through her. I took note of all of this.

“I’m sorry, just remember you’re being recorded for this interview. I apologize If I’m mistaken, but I have on file here that you have a third child.”

They both stared cooly into my eyes. A chill ran up my spine, and my left leg went numb. This is a feeling I would get as a child if I ever made a joke that offended someone, except now in thirty four. I suddenly felt out of place.

“Jessica.” They both spoke unison.

I relaxed slightly.

“Jessica. Okay, yes I have that here. Seven years old?”

They nodded together. Their faces twisted into an uncomfortable expression, both suddenly wringing their hands. Dan glanced over at the staircase to his left, I guess to silently signal as to Jessica’s whereabouts.

“She’s up there.” Valerie told me, suddenly sobbing.

A pang hit my heart like knuckles to a tether ball. I could feel my emotions swirling around my ribs. My stomach started to turn.

“Excellent, can I meet her?” I stiffly asked.

“Yes, but…” Valerie wiped her nose with a tissue, and looked at the stairs, “…But you have to go get her.”

Another odd feeling, I was beginning to get suspicious but I wasn’t sure as to what I was getting suspicious of. These two seemed like a train wreck, and I’m certainly here to judge. Still, they didn’t seem like bad people. They felt like victims to me.

I decided to accept their request.

“Okay, um, where upstairs is she. In her room?” I scratched at the back of my neck, as I do when I’m not comfortable.

“Yeah.” They both answered at the same time again.

I stared at both of them for a bit, before standing up and heading toward the stairs.


My heart jumped as my foot slid something metal across the floor. I looked down to see an empty pet dish of some kind.

“Don’t worry, sorry about that.” Dan picked the dish up off the floor for me.

“That’s our cat Evie’s dish.”

I nodded, but didn’t respond. I just climbed the stairs to the top floor.

The creaks of the steps were eerie and loud as I made my way up to a dim, badly lit hallway. I couldn’t quite collect any thoughts. There was something strange going on here, but I didn’t know what.

Why were they sending me up here to meet with their daughter? Why couldn’t they retrieve her for me? Why did I accept their request?

Upon checking out the long hallway, I noticed one door at the end. It was bedazzled with stickers and letters, appearing to be a very normal young girl’s room. The letters spelled out Jessica’s name, except the “S” next to the “E” was missing. I also noticed there appeared to be no light coming from within the bedroom.

I was taking mental notes of everything for my report.

I opted for knocking on the door out of respect, but received no reply. After three or four tries, I decided to just open the door as I figured they were wrong about which room she would be in.

The door slowly creaked open, under the grip of my left hand. My other hand clutched my clipboard, perhaps tighter than it should have. Just as I expected, the room was dark. Only a small amount of moonlight shined in from the cool autumn night. I found a switch on the wall to my right, and clicked it on.

“Holy hell…” My heart skipped a beat, as what I saw in the center of the room was unexpected.

A little girl with dark brown hair sat cross legged on the bed, smiling at me. I didn’t notice her before, with the lights off. I was startled, but I couldn’t be stirred.

“I’m sorry, uh, Jessica. I didn’t think anyone was in here.”

“Hi!” Is all she said, still smiling at me.

“Hi, I’m here talking with your parents and they told me you’d be up here. I just need to ask some questions. Is that okay Jessica?”

“Is this, like a game?” She asked, the smile never left her face.

The problem is, what seemed like a happy smile at first, suddenly seemed a little off. I’m not sure what the feeling was that I was getting, but I was starting to get unnerved again.

“Um, not exactly, but it will only take a moment.”

She just stared at me, her off kilter smile never changing.

I moved toward the dresser across from her bed, and pulled out my pen.

“Jessica, how are you feeling today?”


I blinked a couple times.

“Hungry huh, okay. Didn’t you have dinner yet? It’s pretty late right now.

“They had dinner, but I feed myself.”

I blinked at her again.

“They don’t feed you?”

“It’s okay, I eat whenever I want.”

That smile on her face, it sent chills down my back much cooler than the air outside. I cleared my throat a little.

“Do you like your parents?” I asked.

“I used to.” She dipped her head down a little bit, looking at me with her neck arched, still with the same grin on her face.

“Jessica, I need to get the full story here so I can make sure we find out what’s going on okay? If you’re honest, I can help you.”

Never budging her grin, Jessica nodded.

“Where are your brother and sister today?”

She didn’t reply.

I noticed the cat jump on the bed, and lay by the post. It was staring at Jessica intently.

“The kitty, aw. Do you like your cat?”

Jessica grinned wider now, and her eyes suddenly flashed with mischief. Then, she titled her head to the side and spoke, but not in her own voice. This voice was deeper, and gravelly.

“I’m hungry.”

That’s when she snatched the cat up from the bed, and pulled it’s neck to her mouth. She crunched down, causing the poor thing to hiss and screech with agony.

I gasped and fell back against the dresser. Jessica tilted her head back and gave the most maniacal laugh I’ve heard in my life. Blood was dripping from her teeth, and lips. She took the cat in both hands now, as blood splattered onto the bed. Then, I heard a snapping sound and it went silent.

Jessica flopped down onto her stomach, and continued to bite into the cat’s fur and flesh. I could her lips and teeth smacking and crunching. That’s when I puked all over the floor.

I think I may have puked two or three times, before I lunged for the doorway, colliding with the opposite wall just outside. I stumbled and stomped my way back downstairs, to where Dan and Valerie were sitting. They both just looked at me, obviously knowing I had just witnessed what they were acting so strange about.

I looked at them both, not one of us saying a word for the longest time. Finally, as I began making my way to the door, Valerie spoke.

“Wait!” She exclaimed.

I turned around, hand on the front door knob still, fear still present in my watery eyes.

Valerie looked at me, with the saddest eyes, gripping her husband’s arm so tight and said, “Aren’t you gonna help us?”

CREDIT : Mike Maxim

The post I’ve Never Seen A Child Eat Their Pet Before appeared first on Creepypasta.



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