Weird Scary Stories Told During a Thunderstorm

livermore thunderstorm

Welcome to Spooky Boo’s Creepypasta and True Scary Stories

I am your host Spooky Boo. Today I bring to you 4 very creepy random stories from the Creepypasta library. You’ll enjoy hearing to these stories with the comforting sounds of rain and thunder and you close your eyes and listen.

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Now let’s begin:

Story Number One

Beneath the Plastic

by Parlour

The rain pattered gently in the dark of night, crystalline raindrops cascading down Robert’s windshield. No matter how many times his wipers ran them through, they kept coming back. The wipers danced back and forth to the rhythm of the song on the radio.

“We can’t stay this way for-everrrr…” Robert mumbled along to the radio, off tempo and out of key. It didn’t really matter to him; he had one thing on his mind, and that was home. 14 hours on a cramped flight was never Robert’s favorite place to be, and he was always preferential to his own living room. He had promised his wife that this would be the last trip for a while, and that he would request to be stationed at home more from his boss. He didn’t have much of a shot at getting that request approved, but Robert had always been a dreamer.

Fuck, running low on gas. Kay’ll kill me if I don’t fill it soon; might as well do it now, I guess. Robert thought to himself as he stared disappointedly at the drooping fuel needle. The yellow roof of the town gas station was just coming into view over the horizon; that signified the outskirts of town, which signified home. He was more than ready to put this entire trip behind him and return to the place he belonged. But first, there was always an obstacle.

Robert pulled into the gas station, putting his car into park and stepping outside. The rain had stopped, which was odd considering the ferocity at which it had once berated Robert’s windows. He walked up to the doors; through the glass windows, he could see that his friend Harry was manning the counter for the night.

Good ol’ Harry. Not exactly the first familiar face I wanted to see, but it could be worse.

“Hiya, Harry.” Robert called out nonchalantly as he pushed the doors open, immediately making a beeline for the energy drinks. Harry gave no reply.

“You awake, Harry? Or are you just giving me the silent treatment cause I had to miss the camping trip?” Robert asked jokingly as he approached the counter with his drink. He looked at Harry, and a pit began to form in his stomach.

It wasn’t Harry at the counter; it couldn’t be. Its hair was blocky and shiny, its face had no texture. It stared blankly at Robert with eyes that weren’t real, holding a grin with fake teeth.

It was a mannequin. A mannequin that looked exactly like Harry. Its arm was outstretched, as if the lifeless husk were mid transaction with a customer. It was then that Robert realized that he was alone in the gas station; just him and… Harry.

This is a joke. It’s gotta be a joke.

“Alright Harry,” he called out, “you got me good. Joke’s over, huh? But how did you get a mannequin so realistic? I mean Jesus, Harry, this thing is almost a spitting image of you. How did you…”

He trailed off, waiting for Harry to jump out from the back room, or from behind an aisle. He was truly alone with the mannequin. If this was a joke, nobody was stepping forward to admit it.

“Ok guys,” he stammered as he backed up towards the door, “this has been really funny. Harry, you and all your gas station friends are fucked up for this one, you know that? I… I gotta go, remind me to kick your asses for this later… haha…”

He pushed the doors open behind him, shuffling towards his car. He opened his car door and locked it behind him, breathing an instinctive sigh of relief. He didn’t know what he was so afraid of; his friends were playing a prank on him because he had been gone for so long, and he was letting it get to his head.

He gazed into the window one last time before pulling away. In the time that he had gone to his car, the mannequin’s head had swiveled 90 degrees. It was looking out the window. It was looking at Robert’s car.

It was looking straight at him.

Robert’s pulse quickened as he drove away, his shaky hands gripping relentlessly on the wheel. His breathing was rapid and uneven, and he found it hard to catch his breath at all.

That wasn’t possible… if anybody moved it that quickly, you would’ve seen them… you would’ve had to have seen them! So who moved that mannequin?

As he entered the residential area, Robert began to see more of them. There was a boy standing in his driveway, red kickball placed gently in his plastic hands. His face was a permanent mold of youthful joy, and a female mannequin watched him from an open doorway. There were cyclists laying under overturned bikes, cargo short clad fathers posed with lawnmowers that had long since died… it was if they were all placed instantly, with precision but without warning.

“Not much further to the house,” Robert murmured to himself, “find Kay, she’ll know what’s going on. If this is still some fucked up prank, she’s the one person who won’t be in on it. I know she won’t.”

Deep down, he knew it couldn’t be a prank anymore. A group of friends replacing one townsperson with a mannequin to fool him? Sure, it was plausible. But now the mannequins were everywhere; they were on every lawn, on every street, on every block. All of them were posed like people going about their lives; they were getting into cars, they were checking the mailbox, they were bending down to pick up the paper. Each of them, like the Harry mannequin, was an identical copy to one of Robert’s fellow citizens. People he knew, people he spoke to on a daily basis… they were gone somehow, and these things stood in their wake.

Every time Robert looked in his rearview mirror, the mannequins he had passed were all looking at him. Every last one of them, no matter what they were doing, had miraculously turned their heads to stare at him. His breathing quickened even further, and his pulse was so quick it felt practically nonexistent.

When he saw the red and blue flashing lights behind him, he felt such an unexpected relief that it startled him. He pulled over, ecstatic that there was somebody in this town who could explain what was going on, even if it was a cop who probably thought he was driving like a lunatic. He watched the cop car pull ahead of his car, parking a few feet in front of his headlights.

The door to the squad car creaked open, but no officer stepped out of the car. The door stayed open, moving back and forth gently in the wind.

“Please,” Robert whispered to himself, “please be real. You can’t… you can’t do this to me!” He wasn’t sure who he was talking to anymore; somebody had done this, that much he knew. This was a perfectly rational situation, and there was somebody at the helm of it all. He had to keep believing that, or else he would lose his mind.

Slowly, Robert stepped out of his car, approaching the squad car. Sitting in its driver’s seat was a mannequin; it was dressed as a police officer, with a cheap velcro mustache and aviator sunglasses covering its plastic face. There was a half eaten donut placed comically in its right hand, its left resting cooly on the wheel. Robert stumbled back, his sense of reality fading fast.

“You… you drove to me,” Robert mumbled, pointing at the lifeless mannequin, “how did you do that?! Answer me, how did you do that?! You’re not real, you’re not!”

Robert heard a sound from behind him, causing him to turn around. The sound was a red kickball rolling towards him. He looked up, and his blood froze in his veins.

All of the mannequins had assembled in the center of the street. Their arms were at their sides, their heads facing directly towards him. They stood in a perfectly uniform line formation, with the young boy Robert had seen at the front of the formation. Robert tried to scream, but the noise got caught in his throat. He moved for his car, but stopped; he didn’t want to get any closer to the horde, and his house was only a block or two away. He turned heel and ran, slamming the squad car door shut as he ran. He heard the siren start up behind him, but it didn’t matter; soon he would be home, and somehow this nightmare would all be over.

He kept running, never once turning around. There were no footsteps behind him, but he knew they were moving. He could feel them, always just a step behind him, though they made no sound in their pursuit. He could hear the squad car, though, which seemed to be taking up the rear judging by sound distance. Up ahead, he saw his front lawn come into view, and he thanked Jesus for bringing him this far.

He threw himself against his oak wood door, thrusting the key in and turning quickly, nearly falling inside. He stood up quick, locking the door behind him. His house was dark, and he turned lights on as he went, frantically heading towards his stairs. He clambered up the steps, nearly on all fours; he needed to find Kay, and he needed to get her up to the roof. He didn’t know what to do after that, but if those things got inside, they’d be safe on the roof.

Robert was a businessman. Lying to people was his specialty, and right now he was lying to himself with every hopeful thought that entered his frail mind.

He was so concerned with finding Kay that when he crashed into the mannequin at the top of the stairs, he hardly even comprehended what was happening. He fell to the ground at the top of the stairs, the mannequin he crashed into practically exploding into pieces. The head rolled over to him; he saw the plastic mold of Kay’s messy bun, and he couldn’t hold back the tears. He stood up, looking down at the woman he loved- reduced to nothing more than plastic pieces on the floor before him.

Suddenly, there was a sound downstairs. A slight, almost unnoticeable sound: the sound of glass cracking under pressure.

They were almost in.

Robert brushed the tears away with the sleeve of his jacket, pushing on towards the attic. He quickly climbed the attic stairs, being sure to collapse them up behind him. Once in the attic, he pulled open the hatch to the roof, and forced himself through the hole. The night air hit him hard after what had felt like an eternity of trying to escape his own house. He rose to his feet, taking in his surroundings. The horde had surrounded his house, all of them standing perfectly still, their arms now raised as if they were an angry mob in a monster movie. He looked out towards the horizon, just as the sun began to rise. Coming home wouldn’t bring safety, going home wouldn’t bring safety- maybe the dawn of a new day would. Robert had been grasping at straws all night; any other kind of thought would push him further to the brink of insanity.

As the sun rose, it began to illuminate the rest of the town, enabling Robert to see far beyond the periphery of his own lawn.

The horde… he couldn’t even call it a horde anymore… the army was closing in on him. They poured in from every street in his view. They came from every direction, from each house on each street. In the distance, he could see police cars and ambulances; it didn’t matter, he knew what sat behind the wheels of each one.

Robert sighed. Somehow during the long night, the fear and panic had subsided to some hellish form of acceptance. He walked to the edge of his roof, slowly sitting down as he looked down at the mannequins surrounding his house.

Every one of them, no matter how far away they were, were all meeting his forlorn gaze. And for a brief moment of lucidity, Robert appreciated their company.

Source

Story Number Two

Can You See Me?

Oh shit! Was that her? No… good. Sorry about that, I’ve been a little on edge since SHE tore her way through the rift of sanity and into my life. I don’t know what she wants. I don’t know how she even GOT here. One day she was just like ‘SUP and decided to stalk me for the most demented laughs I’ve ever heard of. Will someone please tell me just WHAT THE HELL SHE IS!? I’m sorry for yelling so much, but I have to know. She just won’t leave me alone. It’s like she’s my ex or something, she just appears out of nowhere right outside my field of view, tilts her pretty little head, smiles, and asks me:

“Can you see me?”

And I swear to God, when I look to tell her to once and for all GET OUT of my life she just disappears! Jesus, it’s driving me crazy just thinking about it. Here, let me tell you how it all began, maybe I won’t sound like a potty-mouthed crazy psycho-retard if I do.

I was just going about my day, doing my normal stuff when I witnessed, in the corner of my eye, a murder. It was a small helpless little girl, she looked so sweet and innocent. I don’t know why, but when I saw the body, I cringed and almost threw up on the spot. The dead man laying at the girl’s feet was screaming up to the moment he drew his last breath, and the crazy bitch above was looking at him, staring at him as intently as she could. Her beady little eyes trained on one spot on his back… then she looked up.

I got the feeling I should not have seen something like this, no one else seemed to mind. Hell, they didn’t even bat an eye at the hovering murderous little girl, just in front of their faces. She had quickly changed her target, and lunged at me, a large kitchen knife appearing in her hand mid-stride. She stabbed forward with all the thrust her small, frail arms could muster… and I froze. I could not move, I wanted to, but my body just locked up. I closed my eyes and prayed to whoever the hell is up there to help me please, and waited for the kill.

I opened my eyes, expecting an image of heaven or hell. I was NOT anticipating what was just an inch from my face. The girl stood there, glowing orange eyes ablaze with malevolence. Anticipating my every move, silently judging me. I moved my arm, and her eyes followed. I stepped to the side slowly, waiting for the hot knife to puncture my skin for daring to move after the grace this demon child left me living, but no such action was made. I looked at her one last time, and fucking RAN.

I don’t know for how long, but I just hauled ass as far as my worn out legs could take me. When I couldn’t run anymore I knelt over, panting with exhaustion, and when I looked up, I saw her figure lurking in the distance, actually in front of me, in the direction I had been running. She must be fast as all hell to get way over there in front of me, but she did nonetheless.

Every day that passed after that, she slowly got smaller and smaller, until her tiny silhouette vanished from my sight. After that, I forgot about her entirely, lived my boring-ass life, and did my boring-ass stuff. But one day, everything changed again… for the worse. The girl appeared again, with fresh blood covering her pink blouse she looked at me from the corner of my eye and asked:

“Can you see me?”

At that point, all the memories of her horrifying memory poured back into my brain like the sea at high tide. And I lost my shit. I turned towards her, knowing I could not outrun her, and started screaming:

“YOU ANNOYING BITCH! OF COURSE I CAN SEE Y-”

But was cut short by the fist of a husband, obviously pissed at me calling his wife a bitch. I looked over to where the girl was, only to see she had gone. I thought that was for the better, I was wrong. You see, it turns out when she goes away, she just hides to jump out at you again and scare the living shit out of you one more time. Of course… I found this out the hard way.

I was at my job, doing some fun with algorithms in Java, when she showed up in the door of my cubicle, just outside of sight. She tilted her head and asked as calmly as possible despite being covered with fresh blood:

“Can you see me?”

And I tweaked shit. I just lost it, I jumped from my chair, grabbed a knife and went straight for her neck… and I almost stabbed my co-worker. She took it up with my boss, who immediately called me in to talk. Of course I was laid off. But… on the way out, I looked left and I saw her in the stairwell of my old office building. She didn’t ask anything, she just stood there with a completely blank stare on her face, as if she was drained of power. I slowly walked away and hoped she didn’t follow. Of course she would, there was no doubt about that. It’s just… I had the slightest hope, foolish but it was there, that she would leave me alone. Fuck… I was so wrong and my naiveté was astounding.

That night I had trouble sleeping. I don’t know what it was but… my eyelids just wouldn’t get heavy. They seemed intent on staying open, no matter what. And my heart was racing, I’m talking unnaturally fast, propeller speed. All the hair on my body was standing, and I had the worst feeling in my gut, like something was about to happen. I was right. I finally managed to close my eyes when I heard it. A faint voice, barely audible, but there nonetheless.

“Can you see me?”

My eyes glued themselves shut. I dared not to move. I knew that I was fucked and did my best not to make it look like I was not still living. But she didn’t fall for it.

“Can you see me?”

My eyes flashed open and I bolted upright to make her get the FUCK OUT. And I remember the rest vividly.

She smiled from ear to ear and her eyes glowed orange with the malice of ten thousand men as she lunged for me once again, kitchen knife in hand. I dodged to the left, but only just as she smashed into my bed, slicing it to nothingness. She turned on me, and her eyes started to bleed horribly, with a raspy voice she said:

“YOU WILL DIE!”

WHY? What the fuck did I do? Why does she want to kill me? She lunged at me again, and I dodged again. This time she shattered my mirror and I knew I had to get out of here. Putting my back to her for only a few seconds, I ran for the door. Instantly, she was on me. She stabbed her knife into my back and I reeled from the pain. I felt it cut down by back like a knife to butter, and pull out at the lowest point possible. I flung myself towards the door, towards my freedom and ripped it from its hinges with all my strength. In a surge of adrenaline, I ran down the hall leaving a huge train of blood behind me. I made it to the door-man and just said:

“Call 911.”

Then I passed out.

I woke up in a hospital about a week later, being barely kept alive by machines after being rushed off to the emergency room. I remember asking… begging the doctors to stay. Usually they did but sometimes not. But she never came again. I returned home a few weeks later… and that’s how I started writing this.

One moment the power went out, I need to go check the fuse box. I’ll see you guys in a second.

Story Number Three

Captive

I live far from city limits, alone. As far as the eye can see lie trees, grass, and wheat fields. There is one small road, which forms the border between my property and the wheat. There are also girders. Lots of steel girders. Each of them are about twenty feet long. I don’t know why they’re here. They just are. Maybe there used to be a building here, and they left them behind when they destroyed the building. But I don’t mind them. Well, that’s only because I can’t move them. They must weigh about 500 pounds a piece. Just me, my small house, and the girders. And my pig. I’m still not entirely sure why I even kept the pig. It just showed up at my doorstep one day. But I enjoy its presence. It gets lonely here sometimes.

It was only a week ago when it started. I woke up that morning to find something very odd. A few of the steel girders had been moved. About ten of them were put into a line in front of my house and went on the other side of the road, which is pretty close to my house. What I didn’t understand is how anyone could have moved the damn things. Maybe some punks from the city got a forklift and moved them that way. I did see a model once that doesn’t make any sound. Maybe they found it, and that’s what moved them.

The day after, I found a similar sight. All across the west of my house, ten more girders were lined up, just like the others from the day before. I assumed those punks were just trying to freak me out. It didn’t work. This was nothing more than some kids that like pissing off an old man. I thought nothing more about it and went back inside.

The next day, ten more girders were lined up in the back of my house. Nothing unusual. Wow, even after it happened, this surprises me. Nothing unusual. But even worse, my pig was dead in the front of the house. It hung from the awning on the porch. Its legs were all cut off and it was gutted. At the bottom of the steps, I found an even more unsettling sight. Three of his legs were formed into an “N”, and his intestines made an “O”. His final leg with hoof cut off, located slightly below the leg, made an exclamation point. All together, it made an ominous “NO!” I decided to sit outside that night to find the kids doing that crap.

I wish I didn’t. Then I could go on with my life, ignorant of what was really going on. I stayed up that night, rifle in hand, and coffee pot on the table. My rifle could drop an elephant from a mile away. But I didn’t dare fire at what I found. At around two o’clock in the morning, a dark figure came out of the forest. It took all ten girders that weren’t lined up at once, and then lined them up, completing a square around my house. I was amazed. I could barely lift one of those alone. And it just lifted about two and a half tons with one arm by itself. It then swept its head around, getting a view of the wheat fields and my house. I guess it either didn’t see me, or it didn’t recognize my rifle as a threat, because it just darted off into the trees. I’m no expert in speed. When I had a car, I could barely ever keep the car within the speed limit. But that thing had to have been going over 100 miles an hour.

The next morning held the most horrific event that I have ever witnessed. A car came across the road from the distance. I decided that I could just make a run for it. Jump into the back seat and tell the driver to gun it. Before I even got the chance though, it pounced. Straight out from the trees, it jumped high into the air and smashed down on the ground behind the car. This is the first time I could see it clearly. I didn’t like what I saw. It was hunched over, but still looked like it was about twenty feet tall. Its legs were bent. I’m not good at anatomy either, but I think those are tendons made for high jumping. If I hadn’t seen it last night, I would think it was starving and emaciated. You could see all its bones through its skin. And it had six eyes. Six red eyes, lined up across the front of its face.

It took one slash at the car, and it flew into the marked-off area that is now the boundary of my house. Upon impact with the ground, the thing was over there. It tore apart the metal hull of the car with ease. Before the driver could even finish his scream, the thing brought his fist down on his head. You could see the blood splash out from the porch. The thing then proceeded to eat the body, and then dashed back into the trees.

That was when I understood. I was that thing’s captive, and the girders are my cage. And I am permitted no visitors. I didn’t particularly like being its canary, but at least that meant I didn’t have to pay taxes any more. When the police came, the thing would just tear them apart. And I wasn’t restricted at all. The only thing I couldn’t do was pass the girders. But I’m getting tired of it. Even though the thing can tear my entire body into bite sized pieces in a second and use my bones as toothpicks, I think I’m going to make a run for it. I have no more purpose in life except being the beast’s pet. I won’t stand for it. I’m gonna run.

Source

Story Number Four

Blacklight

When I turned 11, my parents wanted me to have the best birthday party possible. They sat me down one morning and asked me what I wanted to do. I didn’t know at first, but I soon came to the conclusion that I wanted to go and do laser tag. I had never been before, and my friends were constantly telling me just how awesome it was. They told me about the blacklit mazes and pounding rave music that they blasted while you shot your friends with small, red rays. It sounded like the most fun thing in the world, and I begged my parents to let me go. My dad loved the idea, but my slightly overprotective mother was a bit tentative. She said that I might get lost or scared, but in a small amount of time my dad convinced her to let me go.

My party rolled around on a Friday. I had invited all of my friends, and a few of my cousins as well. Me and my friends messed around in the arcade, ate pizza, and had loads of fun, even before the first game of laser tag started. Finally, it was time to begin the first game. I went up to the place where you could register a nickname that they would put on your scorecards. I came up with the name “Falcon” on the spot. No real reason, it just seemed cool. We approached a large door that was decked out to look like the entrance to a huge vault. The marshal for our game got us all riled up, asking us things like, “Are you ready?” and then, “I can’t hear you!” After we were all at maximum giddiness, we entered a large, blacklit room, with all of the laser packs hanging off of stands on the walls. The walls were all dressed up to look like some sort of alien planet. I made the mistake of wearing a white shirt, which made me a very easy target in the eerie glow of the blacklight. My friend joked with me, saying that I looked like a glowstick. We put on the packs, turned on our lasers, and all approached the door to the laser arena.

Before we entered, the marshal told us that if anything went wrong, than we were to point our lasers to the ceiling, wave them around, and scream ‘marshal, marshal, marshal!’ I was the most excited I had been in a while. Finally, after the marshal told us the last of the rules, she ushered us into the foggy arena. We had ten seconds to run about and find a good spot before our lasers activated and we could commence the tagging, and we ran in all directions like crazy people. I twisted and turned all throughout the dimly lit maze. All of the walls were decorated in some way, shape or form. There were parts that looked like the alien planet of the pack room, others that looked like caves with crystal shards sticking out of the ground.

I got good and lost there in that maze, but I didn’t care one bit. I was too jittery to realize I was way, way far away from the entrance. I was underneath a castle of sorts, where you could go up and shoot people from above. However, the floors were screened, and I had great joy in shooting people right from under them and watching their confusion as to who tagged them. I had so much fun in that first game. I shot and got shot, Me and my friend even teamed up for a bit before I turned on him in the last few seconds of the game. Needless to say, he didn’t talk to me much for the rest of the party, but hey, it’s just a game, right?

I remember at one point, I hunkered down in a corner, waiting for people to come by, when I saw a dark, ambiguous figure, moving around a few feet away from me. Even though it had none of the flashing lights of a laser pack, a shot at it. A startled, but playful “Hey!” gave me the idea that it was the marshal, patrolling the area, making sure everything was alright.

The first game ended and we all ran out, dripping with sweat and beaming to no end, to see our scores. Surprisingly, I got 2nd place, beaten by 5 points by my cousin. We exchanged some playful looks and I assured that I would get him in the next game. The birthday package came with two games if you haven’t guessed already, so in the gap between the next game we ate my cake, and opened presents. It was shaping up to be the best birthday I’d ever had.

Most of the people that I didn’t know had left, so now it was just me and my friends in this game. The marshal led us in, skipping the rules as we put on our packs. We once again ran throughout the maze like madmen, shooting at each other, and having a fantastic time. After tagging the cousin that beat me in the previous game, I ran off to look for more prey.

I ran around that place for what seemed like 5 minutes, however, it seemed there was no one present. I listened over the loud music and noticed I couldn’t hear any laser sounds, or the pitter-patter of rapid footsteps. I ran around, around, and around the maze, long enough so that I could have memorized it. I knew by now that the game definitely should have been over. However, when a game WAS over, someone over the loudspeaker would always let you know it was done. Not only that, but lights over the entrance to the laser arena would flash brightly, and you could follow those back to the entrance. I was confused, and out of not knowing what to do I rose my laser and screamed, “Marshal, marshal, marshal!” I waited a while, then again, louder, “Marshal, Marshal Marshal!” No friendly staff member came to my aid. I was decently frightened at this point. It all of a sudden occurred to me to check if the entrance was open. But to my dismay, it wasn’t.

I continued to wander around, blacklight glowing, techno music blaring, for at least half an hour, desperately trying to find an exit. I even tried to open the fire escape, but even that wouldn’t open. It was then that I saw the same, dark figure I saw in the first game. I think I was in the same area where I first saw it, too. I thought it was a staff member, so I called to it. It stopped moving. I stared at it blankly for a few seconds. I was about to call for it again, but then, the blasting rave music, that was playing this whole time, stopped.

The new found silence messed with my head, in a weird way deafening me. I stood there for a few seconds more before I heard the loudspeaker click on. I thought it would be the marshal, but, there was only the sound of light breathing. After a short time the breathing increased in volume, as if whoever was doing it leaned in to the microphone. In a dull, slightly raspy voice, distorted by the poor quality of the PA, I heard a name that simply terrified me.

“…Falcon…”

At that moment the figure started to move towards me. I was terrified to the point where I couldn’t move. As the shadow moved towards me, I noticed something in the middle of its face, glowing brightly in the blacklight. As it neared closer I realized, it was a smile. Not just any smile, but a very… unnerving one. My instincts were telling me that whatever this figure was meant to do harm to me, yet, in a strange way, the smile seemed friendly, like the smile of the marshal that ushered us in. For perhaps a nanosecond, I thought that it might be the marshal, but that all changed when it stopped, just in front of a light bulb I was under, so that I could see its true form. It wasn’t the marshal.

It was wearing what appeared to be a tattered, dirty version of the staff uniform. It was tall and lanky, and appeared to be holding a slightly atrophied version of the laser gun, but it wasn’t attached to a pack. I looked at its face. It seemed like the face of a man, but my brain was telling me it was something else. Something was just so inhuman about it. Its eyes appeared to have no irises, as where there should be color, there was just black. Its eyes were wide, with what emotion, I could not say, but at that moment I would say it was hunger. Its smile was still glowing. In the context of the rest of its face, it was no longer friendly, but malicious. It too was wide, with was a slight gap between the two rows of its giant, pearly white teeth. It probably doesn’t sound too horrible, but in that moment it was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. And to this day, it probably still is. As I stood there, frozen with terror, it pointed the laser at me and I heard it whisper, “Are you ready?”

Just as I regained my senses and began to run, it shot its laser at me. I dodged it just in time, but I realized it made a louder, more realistic noise than the regular laser guns. I looked back for a second to the place where it shot, and looked in horror at a burnt, black, smoking hole in the wall. That wasn’t a play laser. I screamed and ran away. As I did, I heard it exclaim from behind me,

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

All of my primal instincts kicked in, and I ran as fast as I possibly could. It seemed that everywhere I turned, I could hear it giggling to itself, almost as I did in that first round of laser tag. I put every ounce of my energy into trying to get away from him. I ran into him a few times, each time his hungry eyes and horrific smile growing wider, narrowly escaping his death beam each time. One of the times, it grazed my arm, leaving a thin, but painfully burnt cut on my upper arm, from which I felt blood trickle down. Finally, after what seemed like an hour of running, I had to stop. I found a dark and shady corner, the darkest and the arena, and took refuge there, praying to whatever God there was that it wouldn’t find me. After a minute or two, I saw it. It was roaming around with that same wretched, glowing smile, and I could tell it was looking for me. I thought it wouldn’t find me, until the awful remembrance washed over me, and my eyes grew wide with fear. My shirt. It was all white. The blacklight.

The thing that had been chasing me, who was at lest a yard away from me, finally centered its piercing gaze on me. Even though I couldn’t see them from here, I could feel his near-colorless eyes searing into me. It was then that everything went black. All of the light bulbs, blacklights, everything shut off with a loud clunk. I let out a pitiful cry of terror, and heard it reverberate throughout the arena. Now, in the darkness, their was nothing separating me and the thing. It could be far away, or right in front of me, ready to shoot me. After a while of silently trembling there in the corner, I cried when I saw its glowing grin make its way into my vision. I almost accepted that I was a about to die.

However, something came over me. a sudden rush of feeling washed over me, and I let out a fearsome cry of a mix of fear and rage. I don’t know why I did, but I started shooting at it with my laser. It sounds stupid, but it seemed to drive the smile back. I continued to shoot at it until, strangely, the smile disappeared from my vision. It melted into the darkness of the arena, and it was then that I probably passed out. From exhaustion or shock, I don’t know.

I woke up outside the arena. Outside the laser tag building, in fact. I was laying in the grass, just behind the place. As soon as I came to my senses, I sat up and assessed my surroundings. I squinted, as my eyes were not yet adjusted to the my sunlit surroundings. I felt the cool breeze blow towards me. I stood up, and wobbled a little as I was strangely dizzy. I shambled my way towards the front of the building to find a parking lot filled with police cars. My mom was standing outside and picked me up as soon as she saw me, hugging me so hard she almost smothered me. My dad did much of the same. I don’t truly know what happened that day, as I was told to wait in my car with my mom. I eavesdropped on a conversation with a police officer and my dad, however. I could only hear the following words:

“He appears… escaped… put away for strange… we have no idea how he… into the arena… we don’t know… what he was h… or how he made it…”

I looked to the opposite side of the car, I saw the cousin that had beaten me being wheeled into an ambulance. He was unconscious and appeared to have a deep, bloody wound in his upper leg. I looked to the other side where dad was still talking to the police officer, but I didn’t listen in, and I couldn’t. There in the back of an armored police van, there he was. Still smiling at me. His eyes, staring into mine were just as dark and menacing, though they seemed to be squinted a bit, and a little damaged. What is the most strange though, is that his smile, though now in the dim, overcast light of the late afternoon, still seemed to slightly glow as it did in the blacklight.

Source

Hey it’s Spooky Boo. Thank you for listening. If you enjoyed these stories, head on over to my website at www.scarystorytime.com and make a comment. You find me on Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube at spookybooscarystorytime and on twitter at spookyboorhodes. On Saturday nights you’ll find me chatting with my friends in the Creature Features chat room while we watch Vincent Van Dahl interview great guests and watch campy old horror movies. Check it out your show time at www.creaturefeatures.tv.

That’s all for tonight.

I’ll see you in your Nightmares.

Author: spookyboo22

There are many different authors on this website who have allowed their work to be used through the Creative Commons. I am only the site administrator. Most stories are not written by me.

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