THE SOUND

: AUTHOR'S NOTE : Uhm, yeah . . . first story on here |D I will usually write scary/horror/myth/whatever stories like this, but most of them will probably be longer than this one. XD So, this is kinda like those Creepypasta stories you see floating around (which inspired me and which I love <3), so enjoy, I guess? o3o

Comments/likes/reads/votes/critisicms would be loved! ;u; <3

~ K

It was love at first sight for him. Once his eyes were set upon reading his very first Creepypasta story, he could not stop reading one after the other, despite the endless paranoia and insomnia it gave him sometimes. His friends thought that . . . Well, they thought that it was kind of weird and freaky that one would be so obsessed with reading scary stories so constantly. He ignored their hateful comments, and continued on with what he loved. It was official: he was completely hooked to Creepypasta.

The teenage boy fell in love with a lot of Creepypasta stories on there, specifically a few. Such as, The Slenderman, Jeff the Killer, Smile Dog, The Rake, The Face in the Dark, The Experiment, Sonic.exe, and even the Hetalia Creepypasta he stumbled upon one day, in spite of the fact that he wasn't really one for animes and the such. Either way, the creeping chill cascading down his spine likes crashing waves that came each time he finished a Creepypasta story gave him a thrill that he just couldn't get enough of.

One late evening, he came home from a long, boring day of school and tiring after-school activites. What he needed was his daily dose of bone-chilling Creepypastas, so he opened up the lid of his laptop and read on until late that night. Many other people he met online couldn't believe how he could wander through Creepypastas endlessly until the sun rose up. Whenever they questioned him, he would shrug and say, "It's just too interesting to stop."

Anyway, after the clock on his laptop read 2:33 AM, he decided to close out of everything and head to bed. He turned off the light, enveloping his room in complete darkness, and slipped under the comforting warmth of his covers. As usual, it took a while for sleep to take him, but something caught hold of his mind and kept it captive -- a sound. A sound that made him ponder. It first started with what he thought was the ceiling fan; usually it would rotate and rotate normally, creating a slight breeze, without much resistance or hesitant sounds. But that night, it creaked and groaned and moaned and sounded as if it had suddenly rusted up and didn't want to spin around anymore.

The boy's mind raced, those late night Creepypastas letting paranoia getting the better of him. Had one of the Creepypasta stories come alive somehow and had decided to suddenly haunt him? He shuddered slightly, keeping his eyes shut very tight, and pulled the covers closer up to his chin. The sound still scraped on, nearly giving him a headache. However, it seemed as if the sound lulled him to sleep. . .

Scrape. . . Scrape. . . Scrape. . .

He awoke the next morning, sunlight filtering in though the half-opened blinds and almost blinding him. Last night's memories were sort of faint, yet he could still somewhat remember the sound that still made him shiver. . .

Scrape. . . Scrape. . . Scrape. . .

The boy shook off the past memories and got out of his bed, feeling absentminded as usual as he prepared himself for another dragging day at school. Once he arrived on his school campus, he decided not to report to his friends of last night's occurrences. They would just think he was completely out of his mind, driven insane by Creepypasta finally, he thought with a small sigh and a  slight shake of his head. Trying to push most thoughts out of his head, he lumbered on through the rest of the boring school day, and finally returned home once again on the school bus.

Once in his own room yet again, he found himself hesitant to read more Creepypasta stories that evening. He couldn't believe himself; since when had he been actually resistant to let his eyes scan upon the words of any good Creepypasta? This time, paranoia was definitely overtaking his mind for sure. Last night, just. . . seemed to haunt his mind. He couldn't shake it off. With another slight sigh, he sat at his desk and opened his laptop to be lost in the world of Creepypasta yet again.

For some reason, the teenage boy went to his bed earlier than any night he had in a long time, the clock baring 8:27. The light turned off, despite the fear of last night's sounds, and yet again he found himself under the covers of his bed.

He closed his eyes. His heart pounded uncertainly. He sighed, harshly scolding and forcing himself to just calm down. Last night's happenings were probably only a figure of his paranoia-driven imagination. He shifted to the side a little bit, feeling even drowsier and drowsier with each passing sound.

Then it came again, louder as ever.

Scrape. . . Scrape. . . Scrape. . .

His heart skipped a beat. It was back. The sound. It sounded as if somebody was actually rasping rusted metal into his very ears.

Scrape. . . Scrape. . . Scrape. . . Scrape. . . Scrape. . .

He sat up in bed, his heart thumping against his chest, bound to burst out of his chest at any coming moment.

SCRAPE. . .! SCRAPE. . . ! SCRAPE. . . ! SSCCCRRAAAAPPPEEE --

In moments he ran to the side of his desk, clicking on the light, yet his mind desperately feared what they were about to set their sights upon.

Click. . . Scrape. . . Brightness chased every shadow away from each corner, except for one.

The scraping stopped. And so did that boy's life that night, leaving the investigators of the missing boy's case dumbfounded of where he went.

All that was left behind in the room was a pair of rusty knives, as long as an average man's forearm.

 

Scrape. . . Scrape. . . SCRAAAAPE. . . . . .