11 wrz 2011

Po przerwie

Tym razem, jedna creepypasta w języku angielskim, po dość długiej przerwie. Wytrzymałym odwiedzającym dziękuję!

I don't know why I went there. The kids had always said anyone who did never was quite the same afterward. Perhaps it was the skeptic in me, though that person quickly died as I walked through the dark pipes with only a small flashlight.

There wasn't much to see in the large storm drain, just some grafitti, rats, and surprisingly clear water. Ahead there was a large chamber, water covering the bottom inch. The story went that sometime in the last decade a serial killer dumped his victims in the stormdrains, and the bodies would pile up in this very room. But there was never any evidence of any killings, just a bunch of missing persons reports.

It was very dark--the only natural light was from a sliver of a grate about a hundred feet up. The room smelt pretty ordinary, and the walls were unmarked. But something felt wrong. There weren't the usual rats around and it was silent. The water had turned black and it was clear there wasn't anything living in it. Sensing something out of the ordinary, I turned around quickly. Nothing. Disappointed, I walked back out the way I came, returning to daylight.

Later that night I called a friend who been to the room last month to talk about my experience.
“There wasn't anything there, but it was weird” I told him.

The line was fuzzy, and he was talking in a scratchy voice.

“...did...you... see...them...” he said.
“Stop fucking with me.”

He laughed for a while, but it stopped suddenly. I heard heavy breathing, and then incoherent ranting.

“Jesus Christ, I get it”

No response. The line was dead for about thirty seconds.

Then I heard in an very loud unfamiliar voice, sounding almost demonic,

I wish I hadn't. I don't know if I had anything to do with it, but he went missing that very night. There wasn't any trace of a break-in or a struggle. Just disappeared.

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