Creepypasta Collection

There is a man behind you

My name is Robert Krandall, and I play a marginal part in the following story. I am attempting to post on this site for scary stories on behalf of the author, my friend Jonathan Tally. Jon is currently serving a prison sentence for manslaughter. I hope that seeing this published in a public forum will help ease his mind. His mental state has deteriorated considerably, as you'll see. I am not a superstitious person, so I have no trouble seeing it as the hallucinations of a mentally disturbed individual. If you are superstitious, I recommend not reading it.

So here it is, reproduced, word for word, from Jon's letters he wrote while in solitary confinement. He has pleaded repeatedly, almost desperately, to post it on some internet site where it will be read. As of last week, he has been threatening to kill himself if he is not able to see it published on the web. For the record, I did NOT do what Jon accuses me of at the beginning of the story. To Jon: you will see this soon, and I hope it brings you some measure of relief.

**********

I should tell you now, dear reader, I'm writing this story from prison. Solitary confinement. I have been in solitary confinement for a few days now, and it is for the best. I only hope that this reaches as many people as possible. These are the events that happened to me leading up to the murder and my incarceration. Whether you believe me or not is your business, but it is the truth.

This is New York City. I'm getting back home late at night after a fine evening of friends and drinking. It starts to rain really heavily, but luckily I've just made it to the subway station. So I go down into the subway. I get into the car, it's empty. One stop later, one person gets on and sits in the middle of the car, on my side. A young guy, early twenties. He is sitting with strangely straight posture, staring at nothing. Head slightly tilted. A kind of wild look in his hair and eyes, like he hasn't slept in a long time. I put my earbuds in to listen to music on my phone. Led Zeppelin, nice!

Two or three stops later, I happen to glance up and notice strangely that the distance between this guy and myself seems to have lessened. He's still sitting the same way, back completely straight, head tilted, eyes wide and staring at nothing. This is weird, but maybe I misjudged the distance before. I turn back to my phone. One stop later I look up and he is three seats away from me. Ok, now it's getting creepy, and I know this guy was getting closer to me for some reason.

"What the hell?" I say. "Look dude, there's plenty of seats on the train, I don't want any trouble." He turns to look at me briefly, there's a wildness in his eyes, but he turns back, facing forward. I'm watching this guy closely now. Suddenly, I notice that his clothes are completely dry. He got on three stops after me, after it had started raining, and yet he had no umbrella and was completely dry. I could only conclude that he had not come from above - he had been down in the subway tunnels the whole time. At first I'm thinking he may be homeless, but his jacket looks too new, and he isn't dirty. Oh well, it's New York. Sometimes there are weirdos on the train. He is kind of thin and pale, and I'm confident I could take him in a fight, but man I don't want this shit tonight, and I'm still a little dizzy from the booze.

Suddenly I hear a loud gasp, the guy turns, and stares at me with a horrified look on his face. "What?" I shout. Part of me is getting pissed off at this asshole, yet I feel a shiver down my spine. His face is locked in a tableau of fear, like the exact instant when something terrifying surprises you. This guy is not acting, he's afraid. Seconds go by, feeling like hours. The guy's face is still completely frozen in fear, and by now I'm sure he has some kind of mental issue. And then he whispers something hurriedly.

"This embind do."

"What?" I say again.

"This embind do, this embind do, this embind you."