CREEPYPASTA

Like A Virus

On November the 24th, 2009, the police force of the small community of New Felsburgh, Maine, received a most disturbing phone call from an elderly man living secluded in a house just outside the town, near the edge of the woods. The man was clearly terrified and panicking judging by his voice and the fact that he was practically shouting.

The senior, who had immigrated from Norway some twenty years ago, complained that some kind of beast was prowling outside of his house, trying to get in. The officer tried to calm the man down, trying to tell him it was probably just a coyote or maybe a bear.

In either case, as long as the man had his doors and windows closed-the police officer assured him-that the creature could not get in, and that he would be safe until the cops arrived to remove the animal. Strangely enough, this seemed to enrage the man. He began shouting even louder, telling the officer that "It isn't that goddamn simple!".

Immediately after he had finished that last sentence, a loud sound of shattering could be heard in the background, probably on another floor. The man's panicked screaming turned into a terrified whisper.

"It's inside! Oh god, help me!" were the last words they could make out as the sound became more distorted. White noise began becoming audible. At first faintly in the background, it rapidly became louder until it became almost unbearable to hear.

By then the officer realized the man was in danger. Although he didn't think much of the sudden white noise as crappy receptions were common in the area, something had definitely broken into the house. So he got into his police car and took the ten minute drive to the old man's house praying he was not too late.

Arriving at the scene he noticed one of the windows on the bottom floor was broken, like something had come crashing through with great force. There were large claw marks on the front door, but they were unlike any the office had ever seen. They could not have possibly been from a coyote or bear, they were far too large for that. Furthermore, the claws that had inflicted this damage had apparently only three fingers, and those fingers had much more distance in between them than even a human hand.

By now the officer was obviously concerned not only for the victim's safety, but for his own as well. As he kicked open the door, the first thing he noticed was how unnaturally dark the house was. While the weather was cold due to the season, it was a reasonably sunny day and light would've been shining brightly through the windows, none of them being covered in curtains. Yet still, the house was dark. Not pitch black, but more of a grim, grey-ish kind of darkness that was usually paired with twilight. Like some kind of invisible blankets were covering all the windows, allowing only for so much light to enter the house.

With his firearm drawn, the officer carefully ventured into the house. His first priority was to see if its inhabitant was still safe. After checking each room downstairs and finding nothing out of place, nothing even remotely touched, he went upstairs. Now there were only two rooms upstairs; a storage room and a bedroom. He was unsettled by how... normal the house was aside from the darkness.

If a wild animal had managed to get in, there would've been signs of it wandering through rooms. When he put his hand on the bedroom door's knob he quickly released it, letting out a short scream of agony. The doorknob was hot! So hot even that it had left an ugly burn mark in the knob's shape on the man's palm. His surprise at this was quickly drowned by another, more dominant feeling of fear when he realized that whatever was inside the house would've heard his scream.

He held his breath, his heart thumping in his throat as he listened for a sound. A creak downstairs, the voice of the man calling out for him, or perhaps the sound of claws paws making their way up the stairs or through the bedroom to get to him. A few seconds passed like this.