One Shot Won't Kill

Ben Drowned One-shot (Creepypasta)

You've been working here forever. You were a Game Stop manager, and have been working her ever since you turned 16.

It didn't pay well, but that's probably because you didn't have a lot of business. On average, three games are sold in a week. Because of this, your paycheck ranged anywhere from 5 dollars an hour, to 10 dollars an hour.

It was complete bullshit, but you didn't have the heart to quit. Staff was low as it was. The last thing your boss needed was for the manager to throw in the towel.

DING

You look towards the door, but see no one there.

Odd...you could have sworn you heard the door open.

You return to washing the counter, only to see something being placed on top of the cash register. You look down, seeing a small boy half your age.

He had black hair and brown eyes. His skin was a healthy shade of peach, but he had black circles under his eyes.

"Hello," you greet in a sweet voice.

"I don't want it anymore," he said.

You pick up the game, and read what it said: Majora's Mask. This was the old cartridge your boss tried to sell for 10 bucks. Really, this piece of shit shouldn't be sold for 5 cents.

Many people brought it back, complaining that it was being hacked, and that it had a lot of glitches. There was even this man- a collector- that bought the game. He claimed that whenever he left the room with the game turned on, it would go back to the title screen. He also said that the file "Ben" appeared a month or so after he got the game. But he had no kids, he knew nobody named Ben, and he lived alone.

When you and your boss looked into it, you found no file named Ben. However, it was a bit glitchy- but nothing to complain about. That was expected of an old game cartridge.

"What's wrong with it?" You set the game off to the side, and brought your note-pad out.

"It's possessed."

You wrote an "I", before his words finally penetrated your skull.

Did he say that the game was...possessed?

You laughed, thinking it was probably his imagination.

"No, sweaty, the game isn't possessed. It's just old."

"That's what my parents said."

Your lips purse at what he said, but you decide to shake it off.

"Alright," you reach into the cash register to get the boy's refund. "Here you g-..."

DING

He's gone.

"Go?" You look around, but fail to see anyone. All you saw was a car speeding out of the parking lot.

Alright then...

You take a deep breath in, and put the cash back in the register. Then, your (colored) eyes travel to the 'possessed' game.

That boy didn't actually believe this game was possessed, did he? No, that's ridiculous. It had to be his imagination. Either that or he didn't have any other excuse to give the game back.

But if that was the case, wouldn't he have taken the money?

You decide to take the cartridge to the back of the room, where you found the console it belonged to. Putting it in, you saw the pixels in the TV form a title screen.

You delete the boy's file, named Jim, and create a new one. You name it (Nickname/Name abbreviation).

As the game starts, you notice the screen- for a split second- turn green.