And then he fucking died.
This
You go to a spooky place and open a door THERE IS A GHOST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THAT DOOR
this kid was born then he died
Imagine a children’s show with a cute, pink, toddleresque protagonist. Let’s say, Kirby of the Stars, the most adorable superpowered weekend morning cartoon there is.
you see it’s great because it’s true
Sounds like a Twilight Zone episode
-snip; fucking image won’t work-
He nodded. “It was no mistake. Will is dead. His body arrived today. The funeral is set for Thursday at 1 PM. The Jones Funeral home.”
“I talked to her on the phone.”
“What? To Janil? When?”
“Just before you came in.”
His whole being snapped to alert. He sat up in the chair as if lifted by a puppet’s strings.
“And?”
“She’s in Chicago like she said she’d be in her letter–at the Butler Hotel, down by the Lake where she and Will stayed before. She claims she’s with him.”
John’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. “Then how does she explain the Army’s notification or the fact that the body was shipped back?”
“Clerical error. Oh, do you think it’s possible. Maybe the body in the coffin is someone else, and–”
Margaret’s words died on her tongue for John was firmly shaking his head. “I saw the body.”
They both remained silent for a moment, and then John took a deep breath before he continued. “I wanted to make sure, but I couldn’t bring myself to brooch the subject with Mrs. Henderson. The woman is obviously having a difficult time coping with her grief. Instead, I expressed my condolences, and she told me about the body arriving and the funeral, and I went there to see for myself. I explained the situation to the funeral director, Hank Richardson. We met him at Todd Anderson’s parties a few times. Do you remember him?”
She nodded, holding back the tears, and John continued. “He took me to a table in the back where they were about to prepare the body. Showed me the corpse. It was perfectly preserved. His injury was lower–in the gut, they said. His face and head intact. I saw the purple butterfly shaped birthmark on his lower arm, saw the tiny rose tattoo with ‘Janil’ on his other, and the little scar above his lip. There was no mistaking the corpse’s identity. It was Will. I whisted for a cab and when it came near the license plate said fresh and had dice in the mirror. If anything i could say that this cab was rare but i thought nah, forget it. Yo home to bel-air!”
goddamnit
fuck, its late at night and im all alone, and here I am constantly looking behind myself because of your creepypasta.
why do I do this to myself.
The advice was “don’t look behind you”.
So either take its advice, or ignore it; the result is the same.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!
This is getting me off. More please.
ALSO:
Combine’s sstory was pretty good and made me see once again how stupid we humans are. And killer dolls :meh: meh
Was that supposed to be scary? That was stupid.
That pretty much applies to this entire thread.