Just another Creepypasta, or something else?

Nobody’s going to believe me, but I swear this happened. Scared the hell out of me. I don’t think I’m ever answering my phone again, unless I know who’s calling. Maybe not even then.

I was chilling at home last Saturday. Playing some Five Nights, just dicking around. Was supposed to have somebody over for Netflix and chill, but she flaked on me, so I was kind of irritated. Was getting ready to go to bed, feeling tired, when all the sudden I felt wide awake and scared as hell.

“Just the game,” I said to myself. Don’t know why, though; it wasn’t like I hadn’t beaten it before, spent a lot of time laughing at the idiots on YouTube getting scared. I’d seen it before. Besides, none of the robots were near me and it was already the end of the night. Nothing to be scared of, there. It was like a switch flipped. One minute, tired, mad, bored and just messing around because I didn’t feel like leaving the chair. Next, wide awake, skin scrawling, and utterly terrified.

The computer screen started flickering, then buzzed off. A second after that, all the lights started flickering, and went out. I stayed still for a minute, still not sure what was wrong with me. Not like a power out is that big a deal. I probably would have been pissed if I’d been doing something important, but like I said, I’d already beat the game, so no big deal there. I looked around, and just about jumped out of my skin.

There. The window across from my desk. There was a thin, pale white face staring at me. It’s mouth dropped open and it lunged. I jerked backward, and fell out of my chair. Bashed my head a good one on the corner of the dresser next to my desk. I started cursing, kicking at the chair to get my leg out of the gap in the armrest, because I’d gotten all tangled in it when I went down, but then I saw something in the window thrashing all over, and started to laugh.

Just my own reflection, that’s all. No big deal. Didn’t change that under the pain and the laughing and the cursing that something still felt way off, though. It felt like my hair was all standing on end and my skin was trying to make a break for the bathroom or something.

Then I heard it; my phone was ringing. It was somewhere out in the living room, wherever it had landed when I chucked it after Sandi said she wasn’t coming. I was tempted to just let it ring – I mean, really, I’ve already damn near given myself a concussion, why go stumbling around out in the dark when it was probably just Bob or Ash calling to ask if my lights were off, too – but for some reason it wasn’t going to voicemail and the sound was getting really annoying.

I told myself it was probably the servers or something. Maybe the cell company’s system had crashed with the power out, so it wasn’t smart enough to pick up and send whoever it was to the recorder. Maybe.

Then I thought it might be Sandi, having changed her mind. I sure wouldn’t turn down a cuddle-buddy right about then, given how freaked I felt. Even without Netflix. I took a deep breath, fished the baseball bat out from under the bed, and headed into the living room.

It was freakin dark. I know, you’re all “duh,” but it was that kind of dark where it almost feels like the darkness is something that’s actually there, trying to drown you or something. There weren’t any business or folks with generators on that side of the building, so there wasn’t any light coming in from the windows. The only thing I could see at all was my phone, sitting against the far wall, next to the door, screen lit up while it continued to blare that stupid chiming noise.

I took another deep breath and started over. Promptly fell over the couch, bashing my shin against the coffee table and bending my wrist the wrong way when I tried to catch myself. Limping and cursing some more, I managed to push myself back up and make it to the door, grabbing the phone.

I jabbed the answer button, not bothering to look at the number, and answered. This very calm, British-butler style voice came out, asking for a favor.

“What?” I said, still trying to massage my shin and my wrecked wrist at the same time. Wasn’t going well.

“Hello, John ((ps: I changed my name here, so don’t try to look me up, kay? I’m freaked enough.)) I was wondering if I might ask you a favor.”

“What? Who is this? Is this Dave?”

“No. My name is Gabriel. And it is very important. May I ask you?”

“Yeah, sure, buddy. Whatever.” I was getting ready to hang up and chuck my phone back into the corner. Probably just fall asleep on the floor right here; wasn’t worth trying to make my way back to the bedroom.

The guy’s voice changed. He didn’t sound like Alfred the butler anymore. He was all shrieky and demonic. Crazy.

“LET ME IN”

Just as he said that, my phone made a feedback whine, the door made a loud thud like someone or something just slammed into it, and the lights came back on for half a second. Then all the bulbs in my apartment exploded and it was dark again. It felt like somebody had shoved a knife into my forehead.

“Jesus Christ!” I said, and hurled the phone. It landed on the floor, and somehow the speaker came on.

“LET ME IN LET ME IN LET ME IN” The dude was still screaming it with that devil voice, and I swear to God there was sparks coming out of the speaker. I did the only thing I knew to do: I started praying.

The voice started dying out, the sparks stopped coming, and the pain in my head got less and less. I kept it up. I wasn’t religious, but I grew up with Catholics, so I know the words. I kept at it until finally there was another blast of static and the goddamn phone exploded. Shrapnel’s still in the wall.

When that happened, everything stopped. I didn’t hurt anymore, I didn’t feel scared anymore. It was still dark, but it wasn’t the kind that feels like it wants to reach out and strangle you. It was just dark. I was too scared to move or do anything, though. I just sat there, staring at where the phone had been, until the sun came up and I could see again.

I pulled up my phone records later, after I got a replacement. Said I got two hundred phone calls between 3 and 6 AM that day. All from 666-666-1985. What the fuck, man?

  • Posted to a Creepypasta collection site, archived October 3rd, 2015.
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One response to “Just another Creepypasta, or something else?

  1. Pingback: Ex Inferis Roundup | Insomnia, Nightmares and General Madness

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