My CreepyPasta Stories

Kalhuzacan

It was probably nothing, he thought, suppressing a shiver of fear; just next doors cat jumping down from the bureau, or the broom falling over in the kitchen. After all, everybody knows that in the dead of night, even the smallest sound pierces the veil of silence and encroaching dreams like the report of a gunshot. Even better, it had just been the house settling. That was something his mother often said, and for a few seconds it went some way to quelling his current trepidation: if she’d told him that then surely it must be true. His mother wouldn’t-

THUMP

-there it was again. It couldn’t possibly have been his imagination this time, not now that he was wide awake, and it was most definitely not the ‘house settling’. Cold, mind-numbing terror seeped into every bone of his body and the marrow in his bones turned to ice as the realization hit home; there was something in Nate Griffin’s closet.

Was that a faint scratching now; the sound of curled, yellowing fingernails dragging themselves softly across the panels of white, varnished wood? A twisted pincer scraping the wall as it gently eased the door open?

Pulling himself into the foetal position beneath the warmth and safety of his duvet, he held his breath and waited with wide eyes and baited breath, heart beating a frantic tattoo against his ribcage, for something to break the silence.

Something did.

A low rasping sound coming from that small walk-in closet; shallow panting broken intermittently by a heavy wet slapping- a forked tongue running itself across decaying lips perhaps? The pulsating suckers of some thick, slime covered tentacle dislodging themselves as their owner moved stealthily towards him? His heart felt like it could burst forth from his chest at any moment; like the monster in that Ridley Scott flick he’d seen last Thursday. Tears had begun to wet his cheeks as he tried to push the thought of whatever lurked back there in the darkness out of his head.

Playingfootballkissinglucyshepherdridingdownthehillonashinynewbikedinosaursdragonscartoons-

It was no good, whenever the terrified nine-year-old conjured an image in his mind it seemed to hold for no more than a few seconds before melting and reforming into those slatted lacquered doors; one of them stands slightly ajar and two red orbs smoulder in the shadows, burning like dying coals in the Stygian darkness.

The closet door creaked open, the sound seeming endless in the stillness of the night. What possessed Nate to do what he did next, I doubt if even he could say. In an act of unbridled courage he threw back the covers and sat bolt upright, staring fixedly at the yawning black void behind the doors, both of which stood wide open, a beam of moonlight filtering through the window pooling upon the floor in front of them, managing to illuminate the doorway and the foot of his bed, but little else.

For several seconds he could make out nothing whatsoever and his heart fluttered wildly in his chest, the fickle flames of relief beginning to spark and kindle somewhere deep within him. It HAD all been his imagination, there was nothing back there in the closet except for his clothes, the petrol-fuelled remote-control car he’d gotten for his birthday and a couple of baseball bats. Maybe there were even a few comic books laying around down there; he’d check in the morning to see if there were any he hadn’t read in a while.

And of course, the doors had swung open because his father hadn’t gotten around to fixing the loose catch that held them closed. Now dreams of sweet little Lucy Shepherd beckoned- two beautiful emeralds brimming with warmth staring up at him, golden pigtails sparkling in the late-summer sun. Realising he had subconsciously been holding his breath in anticipation, Nate let it out in a deep sigh of relief, still staring intently at the open closet, which seemed much less terrifying now that it was bathed in the warm glow of rational thought.