Creepypasta Origin stories

The pale one

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Hello, Dr. Gotlieb, It's Bart! I have great news, and I just can't wait to share them with you. I think I've reached another milestone; I genuinely believe I've made some stellar progress. Remember how you told me to make that mask, the one that was supposed to look like the creature from my dreams?! Well, I did it! And guess what? I feel fantastic!

I haven't felt this good in years. I swear I feel like a new person altogether!

Let me tell you something, doc, the moment I laid my eyes on that finished piece of art... Oh... I've experienced an epiphany.

When I picked up that piece of latex from my porch after leaving it there to dry; I felt like the pounding in my head had subsided.

That's right, the moment I looked at its pale coloring, yellowed shark-like ceramic teeth and the pitch-black rings around the eye holes I felt the pounding in my head go away.

Instantly.

It was quiet again, the moment I locked eyes with that latex parody of a visage.

I would like to believe that the pounding in my head was unlike the voices in my mom's head, but, I'm not a specialist on the matter.

I also know that what she had is hereditary, but, as you've told me before, I don't exhibit signs of that.

Anyway, that mask, it reminded me of a story mom used to tell me. I think I've told you this one a while ago, doc. Just in case, I will share it with you again.

Mom told me about the pale man in the mountains near the farm I grew up on. She didn't just tell me about him; she warned me from him. She said he's a big bad monster. Said he's not even human. She claimed, the madwoman, she claimed it was a thing.

My mom told me of how I shouldn't be afraid of the boogeyman but rather of the pale one. She said this because unlike the boogeyman, at least in her head, the pale one was real.

I say in her head because one time I had asked her how she had known about the creature, to which she responded by slapping me across the face and demanding to know if I was accusing her of lying.

She would constantly remind me of the pale one as if it were a thing we had to venerate and worship.

At one point I asked her to tell me what the pale one looked like. Her face turned pale when she heard me utter those words and collapsed to her knees. Her eyes welled up, and she begged me to tell her I had not ventured into mountains.

I told her I hadn't; I said I just wanted to know what the creature looked like.

She mumbled something incoherent and when I asked her to repeat what she had said; she flew into a rage and clawed at my face like a crazed mountain lion.

As much as I hated her, I could not bring myself to fight back. I knew I could easily throw her off. I knew I could easily snap her fragile little neck, but I wouldn't. Years upon years of verbal abuse and domineering behavior had done that to me.

You know Doctor; you know all about how the mere mention of her full name makes me flinch.

Once she stopped clawing at my face; she stood over me. Hovering over my carcass like the same monster she claimed she wished to protect me from. She bent herself over to me and whispered, "Foolish boy, do not go near the mountains around this place. For a pale man is roaming around those mountains. It is a giant with yellow horse-eyes and a permanent toothy grin. Don't go near the mountains, child, for the pale ones hunger is insatiable. It feasts on bears. It kills them... with its bare hands.