Creepy Pastas and other creepy stories

Don't forget to blink

Don't forget to blink

What you are looking at right now is a computer screen. That or a smart phone, iPad, or tablet. Either way, your eyes are boring into this piece of glass that hides specific shapes behind it which, at the moment, is this story.

But let me ask you this question.

How long ago was it since you turned on this device of yours? Probably a long time, right? How would I know? Well, you probably didn't happen to just learn about this little tale and boot up your device to look it up right away, did you? No. You were most likely tired of your social media, gaming, videos, or whatever and just came across this story. It's something different to see following the many hours of that one activity after all.

Another question.

When is the last time you truly blinked? I say truly because some of you only flutter your lids, switch a gaze to something for a moment then back, or dart your eyes to a dark corner to make yourself think you blinked. The constant light emitting from the device deeps our lids tucked back into our sockets. With that said, try closing your eyes for at least a second before opening them again.

Do your feel a dull pain in your eyelids? If they don't, then you're safe for now. You see, this little experiment is to find out if it wants you. Who is "it," you ask? Why, the essence on the other side of your screen, of course. It feasts on the human mind, baiting people with social sites, videos, games, and other forms of entertainment to keep them from fighting it. It knows all about you, and applies that knowledge to claim its victim's attention. It has no name; all the people who have encountered it die at the last second before even recognizing its presence.

Now, if you do feel an ache in your eyelids, it's too late. You're hooked to its bait like a high person is on drugs. The first thought of every morning is to push that familiar power button. Reality melts away and the only thing to look forward to is the radiant light. You browse through your sites per usual, not noticing your brain slowly melting little by little. The family and friends notice something off about you when they come to visit, but it must just be their imagination, so they leave you be. You never leave your room, or your seat for that matter. After a couple of days, sleeping, eating, or going to the bathroom aren't even essential anymore. You're to "busy" to do any of those things, or so it convinces you. The only movement you make is the dragging and clicking of your mouse or flying your fingers lazily across the keyboard. That's the only thing you know how to do anymore. A drop of red liquid comes out of your mouth, but the item on screen is too important to be concerned with it now. Don't forget to blink. Now you're crying red for some reason. A metallic smell fills your nostrils as blood begins to pour out of your nose, mouth, and ears, soaking the surface you lean on. Eyes black as pitch appear on your device and you gape into the holes dumbly for a full sixty seconds before collapsing cold and dead into your own blood.

That's what will happen anyways. You see, it's watching you right now behind these letters as you read them. And with every second you spend with your lids spread to this electrical light, the more it feeds. I would tell you to shut down this device and to never look at it again, but I'm starving, and the various folds in that succulent mind of yours are just too delectable to resist. Oh, one more thing. It's okay if you forget to blink.