Creepypasta Collection

The Dripping Man

I waved back. “I’m gonna play with Abby now, okay? I’ll see you next time I guess!” I called to him. I don’t know if he heard me, but I was pretty sure I saw him nod.

When I turned back to Abby. She simply rolled her eyes at me before giggling. “C’mon. Lets go play on the rock wall!”

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah!” With one last look back, I didn’t see my friend anymore. But I was sure he was still somewhere near, and so, satisfied with that feeling, I went to go play with Abby.

That night I saw him again. He visited me while I was climbing into my bed. My sister and I shared a room at the time, so I was very thrilled that he was there. Certainly she’d be able to meet him now.

“Abby!”

She rolled over so that she could face me, and she brushed her blonde hair out of her face with a hand, red with a sunburn. “Yeah?”

“Look, Abby! My friend’s here! Say hi to him.” I grinned.

My cheer turned to confusion as she looked around the room, clearly oblivious to my friend standing there. “Tyler,” she murmured, her voice fairly heavy with sleep, “just go to bed.”

“But, Abby.”

Too late now, she’d already rolled over. I waited a moment, giving her a few minutes to fall asleep enough so that my talking wouldn’t wake her. I turned to my friend and jumped a bit, finding him at the foot of my bed. Don’t get to thinking wrong, I wasn’t scared. I’m a boy after all. But I hadn’t heard him move, nor had I felt him sit down. So you could say I was a little surprised.

That was when he talked to me.

He told me if I wanted to I could call him The Dripping Man, and that he wanted so badly to be my very best friend. I was puzzled at the name, but I managed to figure it out on my own. It must have been because he was so slimy. Surely that gunk proved quick messy. I told him that’d I stick to just calling him Drippy, if he didn’t mind. The Dripping Man just seemed too formal of a name for little five year old me to call him. The name has stuck throughout the years.

I then asked a question that I was sure would throw him off. Why couldn’t my sister see him?

He wasn’t as stumped as I’d hoped, as proceeded to explain how you had to be super special to hear him, even more special to see him. Since I was now his friend, I guess it made me pretty special, ‘cause I could do both of those things. I asked him a few more questions. Another little kid thing, I guess. Adults, unless really confused or just stupid, never asked that many.

That night I certainly hadn’t been expecting him, but I didn’t mind him showing up either. Little did I know this was a good thing, ‘cause he’d be showing up every night for a very, very long while.

Skip a few years. My sister and I were now turning 10.

Abby were still very close, and I relied on her a lot. She didn’t seem to mind my clinginess. I also noticed that though she was used to it, she seemed slightly annoyed whenever I brought up Drippy. That was another person I was still very close to. I was still very best friends with Drippy.

I’d learned so many things about Drippy over the years. I learned that I’m not his only friend. He has many friends all over the world. A lot of them were kids, but there were some adults too. He just found the children so much easier to make friends with. So many friends in so many places, I couldn’t help but to feel like I wasn’t so special to him anymore. But he ensured me I was his favorite. That made me feel better.

I also learned that some of his friends didn’t even know they were his friends. In fact, some of them had never even seen him before. I was baffled as to how that worked, but I didn’t question it. I trusted him.