Creepypasta #1076: My Friend Is Sending Me These Weird Texts
I threw a Halloween
party last night, and lots of people came that
weren’t, strictly speaking, invited. I wasn’t going to be a hard-ass about it,
and there were enough of my friends that showed up that I was able to enlist
them to help keep an eye on my place and make sure people didn’t wander places
they weren’t welcome.
Before long, everyone was mingling and having a good
time. I saw my buddy Dave chatting up this really attractive girl that I didn’t
know, and I remember thinking “good luck, she’s out of your league”,
and I think she even asked him out to dinner, but then I promptly forgot about
it since I was busy with hosting duties. The only reason I remember it now is
because I got a series of increasingly odd texts from Dave after the party.
Here’s how it started:
12:15 am/ Dave: Dood, where am I?
12:16 am/ Me: Dunno. Home, maybe?
12:18 am/ Dave: No. I was at ur party. Now I’m somewhere
12:19 am/ Me: Yes, that happens when you leave a party.
12:20 am/ Dave: No, man. I didn’t leave ur party. I was
there talking 2 this girl, now I’m here in this room.
12:20 am/ Me: What room?
12:23 am/ Dave: It’s got wood paneled walls, old looking
green couch, a blue upholstered wing back chair, an ugly oil painting, some
sort of metal disk on the floor, and an old wooden TV.
12:24 am/ Me: A wooden TV?
12:25 am/ Dave: U know- an old tube TV inside a wood
cabinet- looks 60s-ish. WTF? Just turned it on. It’s black n white.
12:25 am/ Me: Ok.
12:26 am/ Dave: There’s no door. Or Windows. What is this
place? Did you do this?
12:27 am/ Me: Do what? Roofie you and stick you in a room
made of the 60s with no way out? No. No, I didn’t.
I’m cutting in here because we spent the next several texts
going back and forth - him accusing me of drugging him because I wanted to meet
this girl he had been talking to and me denying it; then him telling me what he
could pick up on the TV. It sounded like some sort of closed circuit showing
him other rooms similar to his, some with a person, and some empty; and finally
him giving me a running commentary on his attempts to find a way out of the
room. I was ready to tell him I had to go to bed when this happened:
the image is basically self explanatory… i messed up this lettering about 10 times, but with the magic of editing and covering things up with pieces of black paper, i managed to fix it. (well some of the lines are still a little messy but oh well) -m
ps. @nehrdist (if you ever see this) you’re pretty amazing
It’s late where I am.
I’m online looking up information about build-a-bear. They do fix their bears,
thank God. They even call it the build-a-bear hospital.
was up late gaming, watching football replays, and so-on. I shut things down
about an hour ago and headed upstairs. In the foyer, at the bottom of the
stairs is where the kids’ school backpacks should be, but my youngest daughter’s
wasn’t there. I searched the living room, no dice. I was tired (and still am)
but I figured a couple of extra minutes now would spare them
getting to school late tomorrow, so I kept looking. I even went out to the
garage and looked in both cars and came up empty again.
I checked the den, when right above me I heard faint thumps
and even some growling. The goddamn dog was in my youngest’s bedroom, up to no
good by the sound of it. As quietly as I could tip-toe run up the stairs, I
headed there ready to drag the pooch out to the den where he’d spend the night.
He’d already fled the scene of the crime: her favorite teddy
bear, Charlie, was missing one arm and a leg and his stuffing was out; I could
even see the little silk heart they put in for the kids. Damn it. The only
fortunate thing was that it was the cheapest, basic bear they sell. I scooped
up all of the bits and decided I’d go pick another one up tomorrow. None of the
other toys, no Barbies, other stuffed animals, etc. had been damaged.
She loved this bear, or rather, had loved this bear - now it
was garbage - and would be heartbroken especially when (or rather, if, I
decided right then to not let this get out, so to speak) she found out her
other best pal in the world, our chocolate lab Max, had torn it up.
Quietly making my way back out to the garage, I wrapped
Charlie’s remains up in a shopping bag and lifted the lid on the large trash
“Sorry, dude. You were her favorite.” I muttered.
I heard a muffled voice from inside the bag. Coughing, raspy, labored and it
just about made me drop dead from a heart attack.
okay… just tell Marie I love her. I got… I got most of them… please, don’t
linger out here, go back up, you and Max will scare the rest of ‘em off…
was terrified. I dropped the bag and ran back up to my daughter’s bedroom. Curling around the bed - well, it’s hard to describe - there were shadows projected on the walls around her bed in the corner of the room, but
there was nothing to make any shadows. Nothing to cast them.
incoherently and flipped the room light on. Marie stayed asleep (how, I have no
idea), but the shadows hissed and danced around, slipping over the ceiling and
around the walls in my direction. I leaned out into the hall and threw my
bedroom door open, planning to yell for my wife.
Max bounded out of our room
and into Marie’s and began to bark at top volume. That woke
Marie up. Every bark seemed to dissipate or shatter or dissolve the shadow
forms. Everything happened so quickly. They were all gone before she was fully
awake. Of course, there was crying, and a commotion. My wife came in demanding
to know what happened. I just told them Max had gotten out and raised a ruckus.
So now, I’m back down in the den. I dug out the baby monitor
with camera and I’m keeping an eye on it while I make an “appointment”
to get Charlie repaired.
I went out to the garage, he was still on the floor in the bag. I picked it up
and laid it gingerly in a cabinet where it wouldn’t be seen by Marie first
thing in the morning when we rolled out to school.
As I closed the cabinet
door, I whispered: “I’ll get you fixed up, man."
And I’m not entirely
sure, but just as I stepped back into the house proper, I think I heard a
scratchy voice back in the garage say: Thank you.
How would Niall react to his girl falling asleep during sex?
Just the thought of this has me crying.
He wouldn’t let you forget about it for days. “Ya fuckin’ fell asleep on me!”
“I know, Niall I had a rough day.”
“Rough enough to fall asleep!? I never fell asleep on you! Maybe I will next time.”
“Like I’m boring or some shit…I’ll show ya how goddamn boring I am.” He’d grumble as he walked out of the room. He’s turn around with his finger in the air, “I’ll have ya know that every woman I ever been with says I’m the best they ever had. EVERY woman. EVER been with.” He’d turn to leave the room again shaking his head, “Unbelievable.” He’d turn around again, this time with his finger pointed into his chest, “I’m a good…no great. I’m a GREAT lover. And you’re over here fallin’ asleep like you’re in fuckin’ math class.” He’d turn back around, “You wait…we’ll see who’s fuckin’ boring. Better start prayin’ to some God…cuz your ass will be sore for a goddamn month when I’m done.”
A blacktip reef shark (Carcharhinus melanopterus) swims through the reef at Rose Atoll in National Marine Sanctuary of American Samoa. These small sharks can often be spotted in shallow reefs like this one, where they hunt reef fish.