The Deal | A Halloween Creepypasta


The Deal

Music by Myuu

It’s amazing, really. Halloween, that is, just the idea of it. Humans, we’re intelligent creatures for the most part, but during this certain time of the year we seem to lose said intelligence; we crave the need to be scared, spooked, and terrified. I, myself, used to be one of these people, until that Halloween three years ago.

Now growing up, I searched for anything and everything that would scare me. The feeling of being scared intrigued me, that rush of blood from your heart to your head, the sound of blood pounding in my ears.

My family seemed to travel a lot now that I think back on it. One town to the other, state to state. I still don’t know why we did, we weren’t militarily involved, my dad wasn’t a traveling salesmen, and he wasn’t a performer. I guess my parents just didn’t like to be in one place for too long, they were free spirits, or so I thought.

Halloween was a weird time for us, my father was just like me. He loved being terrified, even more than me, he even tried being a Daredevil for a short amount of time. My mom, now understand, was one of the happiest people I have ever come to know, she was so nice and gentle. But, for one night out of the year, she changed to this pale, ghostly image of a woman, drained of all color and life. She always looked scared, constantly looking over her shoulder, like something was following her. God I miss her.

It feels like an eternity since that fateful night. It started out like most Halloweens, my dad informing me of all the haunted houses we would be visiting, and my mother was her usual pale self.

As the day progressed though, my mom began to look increasingly worse, like the life was sucking out of her. Her cheek bones were sunken in like that of a holocaust victim, as if her skeleton was trying to rip free of the skin that held it. I just shrugged it off, as usual. That was my first mistake.

As my dad and I stepped into the cool autumn air, I felt the wind bite into my cheeks and turn them red. As we walked to the car I saw my dad fall to his knees; I quickly ran to his side. His face was that of my mother’s, pale and boney; he was grasping at his chest, and looking around, swiveling his head violently.

I asked him if he was okay. This seemed to snap him back to normal, he hastily replied that he was okay and we needed to get going so we didn’t have to wait in a long line. Too bad we never made it to that damned haunted house.

As we drove the color in my dad’s face returned, but he still looked scared. I asked what had happened, he just replied that he had heartburn. I, again being my carefree self, shrugged it off. As we turned off the main highway onto a side road, that I suppose was meant to take us to the haunted house, I felt a sudden chill creep over me.

We hadn’t been on the road for five minutes before I saw headlights, it was an 18-wheeler for some local supermarket whose name is lost to me. Now at this point a lot of things happened at once; something or someone ran out in front of the truck, the truck swerved into our lane, my dad swerved, but we clipped the truck and went spiraling into the woods that surrounded the road.

Pain. That’s all that came to mind after these events happened, and the loud rumble of an explosion, from what I suppose was the truck that almost killed us. My leg was caught under the caved-in dashboard. I was able to squeeze it out but this only intensified the pain.

I assumed I had a broken leg, or at the very least a major fracture. I observed my surroundings. The car was slammed up against a tree, the front end was basically non-existent. There was smoke cascading up in the distance, with the faint glow of what most likely was the truck on fire. In the midst of this silent chaos, my dad was nowhere to be seen.

As I dragged myself out of the car, I noticed something. I couldn’t see the road, it wasn’t there. I mean it was as if the road had never even existed in the first place. I don’t even remember how I reasoned it out in my head, but again like I did everything, I shrugged it off.

As I hobbled over to my dad’s side, I saw that the door was ripped off and thrown at least fifteen yards to the side of the car. There was a clear path though, outlined in the weeds by blood and ripped pieces of clothing. Had someone dragged my dad to safety? I remember thinking this; it was the only logical thing, unless he dragged himself, but why would he do that?

I followed the trail for what seemed like forever, almost losing it a few times, like he tried to walk at some point, but gave up. After what felt like forever, the woods gave way to an opening. There before me lay a cemetery, but, there was something different about this cemetery that was different from any I had ever seen. I felt a rumbling underneath my feet like the dead were resisting the holds of their earthly prison, the tombstones had no names, but were wrapped in chains.

Standing in the middle was a figure, it was dressed in black, beside him lay my father.

I called out to it then, it turned its head towards me. What I saw I cannot describe, because its appearance did not stay the same for long, one minute it was a skeleton. Next, it was my friends, then my relatives, then a snarling beast whose name I know not. Then he spoke, his voice was hollow yet commanding, it gave me a feeling that I can only describe as hopelessness.

He told me that my parents had committed great crimes. When I asked him what my father had done, he said that he had made a deal, that helped him cheat death, and that he had been running from it since then.

I stood there, still pondering on whether or not this was a dream. I heard an anguished cry gurgle up from my father. Silence. My father was nowhere to be seen, the dark figure sank into the ground, and with him went my sanity and consciousness. Darkness overtook me.

I awoke on the sidewalk next to my house. My mother was gone, the house was cleared out and nobody even remembers me or my parents.

Now here I am in this hospital with the only person in the world I love, my darling wife, Rose. Please take heed of my story, and know you cannot cheat death.

“There honey, it’s done,” I said to Rose soothingly.

“Thank you, baby.”

Knock, knock.

That must be the doctor; I walked over to the door and there stood the doctor in his freshly cleaned bone white jacket, looking very similar to a ghost.

“Tom, I know times have been tough for you and Rose, and over these past years I feel like we’ve all become good friends, so it kills me to tell you… It seems the cancer is terminal.”

That word, terminal, it echoed throughout my mind, it resonated through it like the sound of glass shattering.

“I understand,” I said back.

“I understand this is hard, I’ll give you two a bit to discuss.”

I turned back into the room, and started to walk to her bed, when I heard another knock. I backtracked to the door, and opened it. I saw a man of average height, gray pin-striped suit and a black fedora, his eyes were icy blue and chilled me to the bone. He looked me in the eyes with a piercing stare and said:

“Wanna make a deal?”

Mr. Messy Bits | A Halloween Creepypasta

Mr. Messy Bits by Credited to ScutigeraColeoptrata

Music by Myuu

My life took an unusual turn recently.

Until about two weeks ago, I was a successful lawyer, working as a legal advisor for a high profile software company. My life was orderly, lucrative, and quite dull. But all that changed one magical night, when I had a vivid dream of something glowing consuming my entire body. When I awoke I immediately knew something was odd. I remember running to the bathroom mirror to discover pieces of my body falling off, to reveal a strange and twitching form underneath, alien and ‘shifting’.

I was of course quite frightened at first. I gave out a loud yell and the remainder of my human body exploded messily all over the bathroom, revealing my new form underneath. It was, and still is, hard to describe, because so much of it is ‘shifting’.

There were great red eyes blinking and gazing, appendages like huge spider legs twitching and grasping the air, long tough hair that seemed to fold in and out of my human form, Massive maw-like folds over ashen-black ‘skin’, and a whole host of strange and otherworldy organs too bizarre for me to put to words. I panicked and ran through my apartment, my screams coming out as sickening gurgles from bubbling pores in my vaguely humanoid body. I soon fainted from the shock.

When I awoke I was again covered in my human body, regenerated over my alien form. Why my new body had done this I still cannot say, but it gave me much to think about as I was cleaning up the mess I had made of my apartment. I couldn’t go to the authorities, as I would surely be locked up and studied. So, as long as I was still myself, I decided to keep it a secret.

And then the next day I went shopping. Yes, you guessed it. All over everything.

There was a panic in the grocery store as my exploded human bits were sprayed over a large area, and my alien form was revealed to the public. I ran away quickly in the confusion. I learned from this experience that my body needed to ‘detonate’ at fairly regular intervals, and that I could predict when and where this would happen, so long as I did not put it off.

At first I confined my daily detonations to my own bathroom, maintaining my work and social life. But as this proved to be messy and time consuming, I began to have rather depraved, almost exhibitionist desires. To tell you the truth, I had started to rather enjoy the detonations, and I enjoyed still more the look of terror on the faces of those nearby when one of their own suddenly exploded into a monster. The thought of doing it regularly in public made me positively giddy.

So I started my reign of terror. I ‘buzzed’ weddings, funerals, public gatherings of all sorts, doctor waiting rooms (“there’s something wrong with me, AAAAH!”), schools, government buildings, even my place of work. While I had at first had some vague idea of keeping my old life, I soon learned to abandon my human way of living completely. My new body didn’t seem to need to eat, and I only rarely required sleep. I spent my down time in abandoned buildings or out in the woods. It was during a rest in the latter that I met Roger.

It was October 30th when I first met Roger in the forest outside of town. He was a young boy, about 10 to 12 years of age by my reckoning. He must have been running away from something truly terrible, as he didn’t seem fazed by my unnatural and writhing true form. I remember asking him why he wasn’t afraid, and he said I was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

I explained to the best of my ability what had happened to me, and he said he envied my lifestyle. He asked if he could join me on my next outing, and since I didn’t see the harm in it at the time, I agreed.

On Halloween night, Roger selected a seemingly random slum neighborhood, and I went to work presenting myself as a respectable representative of some human organization. I wore a smart black suit I had picked up one day during a ‘buzz’ at a clothing store.

I had gathered together most of the people in the neighborhood, and was about to detonate, when Roger suddenly fell to the ground, motionless. I detonated, causing a panic, and all of the adults ran away in the ensuing confusion. It was up to me to deliver Roger to a hospital where he could get proper treatment, but there wasn’t time for me to regenerate my human body. I would have to go as the monster.

To make matters much worse, I had become quite infamous in my former community. Someone spotted me carrying a small boy through the streets, and alerted the authorities. When I arrived at the hospital, police and military personal had the area surrounded. I did not know how my new body would hold up to bullets, but I was not eager to find out. I tried to speak, but could only gurgle in my natural form. When the man in charge gave the order to fire, I ducked into the hospital for cover.

Fortunately for me, none of the men present were brave enough to come in after me, and so fired off randomly into the lobby while I hid from sight. After a few minutes of this, the gunfire stopped. As I sat there, motionless with Roger in my arms, I noticed that all the shooting had hit something flammable, starting a fire that was spreading rapidly. The men outside must have seen it, as there was a great deal of shouting. Knowing that the smoke would surely kill Roger, I decided to brave the wrath of my enemies.

I boldly strode outside, my human body again starting to form across my alien hide. I walked up to the man in charge and gently handed Roger to him. He was noticeably stunned, and offered no audible protest. Just as quickly, I re-entered the hospital. The fire was spreading very quickly now, and could not be extinguished by any device present. I imagined the fire department was on its way, but by the time they arrived it would surely be too late for the other patients. There was only one thing I could do.

I breathed in deeply, and then proceeded to give the longest detonation I have ever done. Blood, mucous and other bodily fluids rained over a large area. Bits of my alien body also flew off in a great rain of carnage. The act left me tired and drained, but it worked; the flame was extinguished before it could grow any larger, the lobby of the hospital now covered in wet gore.

Tired as I was, I knew it wasn’t a good idea for me to hang around. I quickly ran out the back and into a nearby alley. The police and the military had their hands full with rescuing the hospital residents, so I had enough time to escape.

The next day I read the newspaper. The headline read, “Mr. Messy Bits Saves Small Boy and Hospital with Fountain of Gore.” To my amazement, the story gave a favourable review of my actions the night before. The writer said that the local monster that had been terrorizing their community had acted selflessly to save those threatened by the fire, and that it seems that said creature did not mean to cause harm. I would never have believed that I could have received such praise, but it made me rethink who I was and what purpose my life would have.

Mr. Messy Bits, eh?

To my relief, Roger made a full recovery. He met up with me again as soon as he was well enough, and the two of us set out together as partners in crime.

And that’s why it was the best Halloween ever…

NoEnd House | A Creepypasta by Brian Russell

The original story by Brian Russell can be found here.

Music by Myuu

SyFy Channel Zero NoEnd House is based off of this story.

Let me start by saying that Peter Terry was addicted to heroin.

We were friends in college and continued to be after I graduated. Notice that I said “I”. He dropped out after two years of barely cutting it. After I moved out of the dorms and into a small apartment, I didn’t see Peter as much. We would talk online every now and then (AIM was king in pre-Facebook years). There was a period where he wasn’t online for about five weeks straight. I wasn’t worried. He was a pretty notorious flake and drug addict, so I assumed he just stopped caring. Then one night I saw him log on. Before I could initiate a conversation, he sent me a message.

“David, man, we need to talk.”

That was when he told me about the NoEnd House. It got that name because no one had ever reached the final exit. The rules were pretty simple and cliche: reach the final room of the building and you win $500. There were nine rooms in all. The house was located outside the city, roughly four miles from my house. Apparently Peter had tried and failed. He was a heroin and who-knows-what-the-fuck addict, so I figured the drugs got the best of him and he wigged out at a paper ghost or something. He told me it would be too much for anyone. That it was unnatural.

I didn’t believe him. I told him I would check it out the next night and no matter how hard he tried to convince me otherwise, $500 sounded too good to be true. I had to go. I set out the following night.

When I arrived, I immediately noticed something strange about the building. Have you ever seen or read something that shouldn’t be scary, but for some reason a chill crawls up your spine? I walked toward the building and the feeling of uneasiness only intensified as I opened the front door.

My heart slowed and I let a relieved sigh leave me as I entered. The room looked like a normal hotel lobby decorated for Halloween. A sign was posted in place of a worker. It read, “Room 1 this way. Eight more follow. Reach the end and you win!” I chuckled and made my way to the first door.

The first area was almost laughable. The decor resembled the Halloween aisle of a K-Mart, complete with sheet ghosts and animatronic zombies that gave a static growl when you passed by. At the far end was an exit; it was the only door besides the one I entered through. I brushed through the fake spider webs and headed for the second room.

I was greeted by fog as I opened the door to room two. The room definitely upped the ante in terms of technology. Not only was there a fog machine, but a bat hung from the ceiling and flew in a circle. Scary. They seemed to have a Halloween soundtrack that one would find in a 99 cent store on loop somewhere in the room. I didn’t see a stereo, but I guessed they must have used a PA system. I stepped over a few toy rats that wheeled around and walked with a puffed chest across to the next area.

I reached for the doorknob and my heart sank to my knees. I did not want to open that door. A feeling of dread hit me so hard I could barely even think. Logic overtook me after a few terrified moments, and I shook it off and entered the next room.

Room three is when things began to change.

On the surface, it looked like a normal room. There was a chair in the middle of the wood paneled floor. A single lamp in the corner did a poor job of lighting the area, casting a few shadows across the floor and walls. That was the problem. Shadows. Plural.

With the exception of the chair’s, there were others. I had barely walked in the door and I was already terrified. It was at that moment that I knew something wasn’t right. I didn’t even think as I automatically tried to open the door I came through. It was locked from the other side.

That set me off. Was someone locking the doors as I progressed? There was no way. I would have heard them. Was it a mechanical lock that set automatically? Maybe. But I was too scared to really think. I turned back to the room and the shadows were gone. The chair’s shadow remained, but the others were gone. I slowly began to walk. I used to hallucinate when I was a kid, so I wrote off the shadows as a figment of my imagination. I began to feel better as I made it to the halfway point of the room. I looked down as I took my steps and that’s when I saw it.

Or didn’t see it. My shadow wasn’t there. I didn’t have time to scream. I ran as fast as I could to the other door and flung myself without thinking into the room beyond.

The fourth room was possibly the most disturbing. As I closed the door, all light seemed to be sucked out and put back into the previous room. I stood there, surrounded by darkness, not able to move. I’m not afraid of the dark and never have been, but I was absolutely terrified. All sight had left me. I held my hand in front of my face and if I didn’t know what I was doing, I would never have been able to tell. Darkness doesn’t describe it. I couldn’t hear anything. It was dead silence. When you’re in a sound-proof room, you can still hear yourself breathing. You can hear yourself being alive.

I couldn’t.

I began to stumble forward after a few moments, my rapidly beating heart the only thing I could feel. There was no door in sight. Wasn’t even sure there was one this time. The silence was then broken by a low hum.

I felt something behind me. I spun around wildly but could barely even see my nose. I knew it was there, though. Regardless of how dark it was, I knew something was there. The hum grew louder, closer. It seemed to surround me, but I knew whatever was causing the noise was in front of me, inching closer. I took a step back; I had never felt that kind of fear. I can’t really describe true fear. I wasn’t even scared I was going to die; I was scared of what the alternative was. I was afraid of what this thing had in store for me. Then the lights flashed for a second and I saw it.

Nothing. I saw nothing and I know I saw nothing there. The room was again plunged into darkness and the hum became a wild screech. I screamed in protest; I couldn’t hear this goddamn sound for another minute. I ran backwards, away from the noise, and fumbled for the door handle. I turned and fell into room five.

Before I describe room five, you have to understand something. I am not a drug addict. I have had no history of drug abuse or any sort of psychosis short of the childhood hallucinations I mentioned earlier, and those were only when I was really tired or just waking up. I entered the NoEnd House with a clear head.

After falling in from the previous room, my view of room five was from my back, looking up at the ceiling. What I saw didn’t scare me; it simply surprised me. Trees had grown into the room and towered above my head. The ceilings in this room were taller than the others, which made me think I was in the center of the house. I got up off the floor, dusted myself off, and took a look around. It was definitely the biggest room of them all. I couldn’t even see the door from where I was; various brush and trees must have blocked my line of sight with the exit.

Up to this point, I figured the rooms were going to get scarier, but this was a paradise compared to the last room. I also assumed whatever was in room four stayed back there. I was incredibly wrong.

As I made my way deeper into the room, I began to hear what one would hear if they were in a forest; chirping bugs and the occasional flap of birds seemed to be my only company in this room. That was the thing that bothered me the most. I heard the bugs and other animals, but I didn’t see any of them. I began to wonder how big this house was. From the outside when I first walked up to it, it looked like a regular house. It was definitely on the bigger side, but this was almost a full forest in here. The canopy covered my view of the ceiling, but I assumed it was still there, however high it was. I couldn’t see any walls, either. The only way I knew I was still inside was that the floor matched the other rooms: the standard dark wood paneling.

I kept walking, hoping that the next tree I passed would reveal the door. After a few moments of walking, I felt a mosquito fly onto my arm. I shook it off and kept going. A second later, I felt about ten more land on my skin at different places. I felt them crawl up and down my arms and legs and a few made their way across my face. I flailed wildly to get them all off but they just kept crawling. I looked down and let out a muffled scream – more of a whimper, to be honest. I didn’t see a single bug. Not one bug was on me, but I could feel them crawl. I heard them fly by my face and sting my skin but I couldn’t see a single one. I dropped to the ground and began to roll wildly. I was desperate. I hated bugs, especially ones I couldn’t see or touch. But these bugs could touch me and they were everywhere.

I began to crawl. I had no idea where I was going; the entrance was nowhere in sight and I still hadn’t even seen the exit. So I just crawled, my skin wriggling with the presence of those phantom bugs. After what seemed like hours, I found the door. I grabbed the nearest tree and propped myself up, mindlessly slapping my arms and legs to no avail. I tried to run, but I couldn’t; my body was exhausted from crawling and dealing with whatever it was that was on me. I took a few shaky steps to the door, grabbing each tree on the way for support.

It was only a few feet away when I heard it. The low hum from before. It was coming from the next room and it was deeper. I could almost feel it inside my body, like when you stand next to an amp at a concert. The feeling of the bugs on me lessened as the hum grew louder. As I placed my hand on the doorknob, the bugs were completely gone but I couldn’t bring myself to turn the knob. I knew that if I let go, the bugs would return and there was no way I would make it back to room four. I just stood there, my head pressed against the door marked six and my hand shakily grasping the knob. The hum was so loud I couldn’t even hear myself pretend to think. There was nothing I could do but move on. Room six was next, and room six was Hell.

I closed the door behind me, my eyes held shut and my ears ringing. The hum was surrounding me. As the door clicked into place, the hum was gone. I opened my eyes in surprise and the door I had shut was gone. It was just a wall now. I looked around in shock. The room was identical to room three – the same chair and lamp – but with the correct amount of shadows this time. The only real difference was that there was no exit door and the one I came in through was gone. As I said before, I had no previous issues in terms of mental instability, but at that moment I fell into what I now know was insanity. I didn’t scream. I didn’t make a sound.

At first I scratched softly. The wall was tough, but I knew the door was there somewhere. I just knew it was. I scratched at where the doorknob was. I clawed at the wall frantically with both hands, my nails being filed down to the skin against the wood. I fell silently to my knees, the only sound in the room the incessant scratching against the wall. I knew it was there. The door was there, I knew it was just there. I knew if I could just get past this wall –

“Are you alright?”

I jumped off the ground and spun in one motion. I leaned against the wall behind me and I saw what it was that spoke to me; to this day I regret ever turning around.

There was a little girl. She was wearing a soft, white dress that went down to her ankles. She had long blonde hair to the middle of her back and white skin and blue eyes. She was the most frightening thing I had ever seen, and I know that nothing in my life will ever be as unnerving as what I saw in her. While looking at her, I saw something else. Where she stood I saw what looked like a man’s body, only larger than normal and covered in hair. He was naked from head to toe, but his head was not human and his toes were hooves. It wasn’t the Devil, but at that moment it might as well have been. The form had the head of a ram and the snout of a wolf.

It was horrifying and it was synonymous with the little girl in front of me. They were the same form. I can’t really describe it, but I saw them at the same time. They shared the same spot in that room, but it was like looking at two separate dimensions. When I saw the girl I saw the form, and when I saw the form I saw the girl. I couldn’t speak. I could barely even see. My mind was revolting against what it was attempting to process. I had been scared before in my life and I had never been more scared than when I was trapped in the fourth room, but that was before room six. I just stood there, staring at whatever it was that spoke to me. There was no exit. I was trapped here with it. And then it spoke again.

“David, you should have listened.”

When it spoke, I heard the words of the little girl, but the other form spoke through my mind in a voice I won’t attempt to describe. There was no other sound. The voice just kept repeating that sentence over and over in my mind and I agreed. I didn’t know what to do. I was slipping into madness, yet couldn’t take my eyes off what was in front of me. I dropped to the floor. I thought I had passed out, but the room wouldn’t let me. I just wanted it to end. I was on my side, my eyes wide open and the form staring down at me. Scurrying across the floor in front of me was one of the battery-powered rats from the second room.

The house was toying with me. But for some reason, seeing that rat pulled my mind back from whatever depths it was headed and I looked around the room. I was getting out of there. I was determined to get out of that house and live and never think about this place again. I knew this room was Hell and I wasn’t ready to take up a residency. At first, it was just my eyes that moved. I searched the walls for any kind of opening. The room wasn’t that big, so it didn’t take long to soak up the entire layout. The demon still taunted me, the voice growing louder as the form stayed rooted where it stood. I placed my hand on the floor, lifted myself up to all four and turned to scan the wall behind me.

Then I saw something I couldn’t believe. The form was now right at my back, whispering into my mind how I shouldn’t have come. I felt its breath on the back of my neck, but I refused to turn around. A large rectangle was scratched into the wood, with a small dent chipped away in the center of it. Right in front of my eyes I saw the large seven I had mindlessly etched into the wall. I knew what it was: room seven was just beyond that wall where room five was moments ago.

I don’t know how I had done it – maybe it was just my state of mind at the time – but I had created the door. I knew I had. In my madness, I had scratched into the wall what I needed the most: an exit to the next room. Room seven was close. I knew the demon was right behind me, but for some reason it couldn’t touch me. I closed my eyes and placed both hands on the large seven in front of me. I pushed. I pushed as hard as I could. The demon was now screaming in my ear. It told me I was never leaving. It told me that this was the end but I wasn’t going to die; I was going to live there in room six with it. I wasn’t. I pushed and screamed at the top of my lungs. I knew I was going to push through the wall eventually.

I clenched my eyes shut and screamed, and the demon was gone. I was left in silence. I turned around slowly and was greeted by the room as it was when I entered: just a chair and a lamp. I couldn’t believe it, but I didn’t have time to well. I turned back to the seven and jumped back slightly. What I saw was a door. It wasn’t the one I had scratched in, but a regular door with a large seven on it. My whole body was shaking. It took me a while to turn the knob. I just stood there for a while, staring at the door. I couldn’t stay in room six. I couldn’t. But if this was only room six, I couldn’t imagine was seven had in store. I must have stood there for an hour, just staring at the seven. Finally, with a deep breath, I twisted the knob and opened the door to room seven.

I stumbled through the door mentally exhausted and physically weak. The door behind me closed and I realized where I was. I was outside. Not outside like room five, but actually outside. My eyes stung. I wanted to cry. I fell to my knees and tried but I couldn’t. I was finally out of that hell. I didn’t even care about the prize that was promised. I turned and saw that the door I just went through was the entrance. I walked to my car and drove home, thinking of how nice a shower sounded.

As I pulled up to my house, I felt uneasy. The joy of leaving NoEnd House had faded and dread was slowly building in my stomach. I shook it off as residual from the house and made my way to the front door. I entered and immediately went up to my room. There on my bed was my cat, Baskerville. He was the first living thing I had seen all night and I reached to pet him. He hissed and swiped at my hand. I recoiled in shock, as he had never acted like that. I thought, “Whatever, he’s an old cat.” I jumped in the shower and got ready for what I was expecting to be a sleepless night.

After my shower, I went to the kitchen to make something to eat. I descended the stairs and turned into the family room; what I saw would be forever burned into my mind, however. My parents were lying on the ground, naked and covered in blood. They were mutilated to near-unidentifiable states. Their limbs were removed and placed next to their bodies, and their heads were placed on their chests facing me. The most unsettling part was their expressions. They were smiling, as though they were happy to see me. I vomited and sobbed there in the family room. I didn’t know what had happened; they didn’t even live with me at the time. I was a mess. Then I saw it: a door that was never there before. A door with a large eight scrawled on it in blood.

I was still in the house. I was standing in my family room but I was in room seven. The faces of my parents smiled wider as I realized this. They weren’t my parents; they couldn’t be, but they looked exactly like them. The door marked eight was across the room, behind the mutilated bodies in front of me. I knew I had to move on, but at that moment I gave up. The smiling faces tore into my mind; they grounded me where I stood. I vomited again and nearly collapsed. Then the hum returned. It was louder than ever and it filled the house and shook the walls. The hum compelled me to walk.

I began to walk slowly, making my way closer to the door and the bodies. I could barely stand, let alone walk, and the closer I got to my parents the closer I came to suicide. The walls were now shaking so hard it seemed as though they were going to crumble, but still the faces smiled at me. As I inched closer, their eyes followed me. I was now between the two bodies, a few feet away from the door. The dismembered hands clawed their way across the carpet towards me, all while the faces continued to stare. New terror washed over me and I walked faster. I didn’t want to hear them speak. I didn’t want the voices to match those of my parents. They began to open their mouths and the hands were inches from my feet. In a dash of desperation, I lunged toward the door, threw it open, and slammed it behind me. Room eight.

I was done. After what I had just experienced, I knew there wasn’t anything else this fucking house could throw at me that I couldn’t live through. There was nothing short of the fires of Hell that I wasn’t ready for. Unfortunately, I underestimated the abilities of NoEnd House. Unfortunately, things got more disturbing, more terrifying, and more unspeakable in room eight.

I still have trouble believing what I saw in room eight. Again, the room was a carbon copy of rooms three and six, but sitting in the usually empty chair was a man. After a few seconds of disbelief, my mind finally accepted the fact that the man sitting in the chair was me. Not someone who looked like me; it was David Williams. I walked closer. I had to get a better look even though I was sure of it. He looked up at me and I noticed tears in his eyes.

“Please… please, don’t do it. Please, don’t hurt me.”

“What?” I asked. “Who are you? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yes you are…” He was sobbing now. “You’re going to hurt me and I don’t want you to.” He sat in the chair with his legs up and began rocking back and forth. It was actually pretty pathetic looking, especially since he was me, identical in every way.

“Listen, who are you?” I was now only a few feet from my doppelgänger. It was the weirdest experience yet, standing there talking to myself. I wasn’t scared, but I would be soon. “Why are you-”

“You’re going to hurt me you’re going to hurt me if you want to leave you’re going to hurt me.”

“Why are you saying this? Just calm down, alright? Let’s try and figure this-” And then I saw it. The David sitting down was wearing the same clothes as me, except for a small red patch on his shirt embroidered with the number nine.

“You’re going to hurt me you’re going to hurt me don’t please you’re going to hurt me…”

My eyes didn’t leave that small number on his chest. I knew exactly what it was. The first few doors were plain and simple, but after a while they got a little more ambiguous. Seven was scratched into the wall, but by my own hands. Eight was marked in blood above the bodies of my parents. But nine – this number was on a person, a living person. Worse still, it was on a person that looked exactly like me.

“David?” I had to ask.

“Yes… you’re going to hurt me you’re going to hurt me…” He continued to sob and rock.

He answered to David. He was me, right down to the voice. But that nine. I paced around for a few minutes while he sobbed in his chair. The room had no door and, similarly to room six, the door I came through was gone. For some reason, I assumed that scratching would get me nowhere this time. I studied the walls and floor around the chair, sticking my head underneath and seeing if anything was below. Unfortunately, there was. Below the chair was a knife. Attached was a tag that read, “To David – From Management.”

The feeling in my stomach as I read that tag was something sinister. I wanted to throw up and the last thing I wanted to do was remove that knife from under that chair. The other David was still sobbing uncontrollably. My mind was spinning into an attic of unanswerable questions. Who put this here and how did they get my name? Not to mention the fact that as I knelt on the cold wood floor I also sat in that chair, sobbing in protest of being hurt by myself. It was all too much to process. The house and the management had been playing with me this whole time. My thoughts for some reason turned to Peter and whether or not he got this far. If he did, if he met a Peter Terry sobbing in this very chair, rocking back and forth… I shook those thoughts out of my head; they didn’t matter. I took the knife from under the chair and immidately the other David went quiet.

“David,” He said in my voice, “What do you think you’re going to do?”

I lifted myself from the ground and clenched the knife in my hand.

“I’m going to get out of here.”

David was still sitting in the chair, though he was very calm now. He looked up at me with a slight grin. I couldn’t tell if he was going to laugh or strangle me. Slowly, he got up from the chair and stood, facing me. It was uncanny. His height and even the way he stood matched mine. I felt the rubber hilt of the knife in my hand and gripped it tighter. I don’t know what I was planning on doing with it, but I had a feeling I was going to need it.

“Now,” his voice was slightly deeper than my own. “I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to hurt you and I’m going to keep you here.” I didn’t respond. I just lunged and tackled him to the ground. I had mounted him and looked down, knife poised and ready. He looked up at me, terrified. It was like I was looking in a mirror. Then the hum returned, low and distant, though I still felt it deep in my body. David looked up at me as I looked down at myself. The hum was getting louder and I felt something inside me snap. With one motion, I slammed the knife into the patch on his chest and ripped down. Blackness fell on the room and I was falling.

The darkness around me was like nothing I had experienced up to that point. Room four was dark, but it didn’t come close to what was completely engulfing me. I wasn’t even sure if I was falling after a while. I felt weightless, covered in dark. Then a deep sadness came over me. I felt lost, depressed, and suicidal. The sight of my parents entered my mind. I knew it wasn’t real, but I had seen it and the mind has trouble differentiating between what is real and what isn’t. The sadness only deepened. I was in room nine for what seemed like days. The final room. And that’s exactly what it was: the end. NoEnd House had an end and I had reached it. At that moment, I gave up. I knew I would be in that in-between state forever, accompanied by nothing but darkness. Not even the hum was there to keep me sane.

I had lost all senses. I couldn’t feel myself. I couldn’t hear anything. Sight was completely useless here. I searched for a taste in my mouth and found nothing. I felt disembodied and completely lost. I knew where I was. This was Hell. Room nine was Hell. Then it happened. A light. One of those stereotypical lights at the end of the tunnel. I felt ground come up from below me and I was standing. After a moment or two of gathering my thoughts and senses, I slowly walked toward that light.

As I approached the light, it took form. It was a vertical slit down the side of an unmarked door. I slowly walked through the door and found myself back where I started: the lobby of NoEnd House. It was exactly how I left it: still empty, still decorated with childish Halloween decorations. After everything that had happened that night, I was still wary of where I was. After a few moments of normalcy, I looked around the place trying to find anything different. On the desk was a plain white envelope with my name handwritten on it. Immensely curious, yet still cautious, I mustered up the courage to open the envelope. Inside was a letter, again handwritten.

David Williams,

Congratulations! You have made it to the end of NoEnd House! Please accept this prize as a token of great achievement.

Yours forever,

With the letter were five $100 bills.

I couldn’t stop laughing. I laughed for what seemed like hours. I laughed as I walked out to my car and laughed as I drove home. I laughed as I pulled into my driveway. I laughed as I opened my front door to my house and laughed as I saw the small ten etched into the wood.

4 Random Scary Stories from My Podcast on YouTube

On Saturday I deliver all of the stories from the previous Monday through Friday podcast and add them to YouTube. This week I told 5 random scary stories from both the Creepypasta Wiki and from user submitted stories.

If you would like your own story told then visit the submissions page at