Okay NG... here goes. I'm not going to spread fake bullshit to you like an attention-whoring little faggot, so if you're expecting story-time or copy-pasta... look elsewhere, which is pretty retarded, to be quite frank. The past month now has left me permanently traumatized, and since then i've been fucked up. The scenarios that took place were mild at best, but I've always been a little pussy about the paranormal, and old men stalking me in my apartment... I just need to let my shit out somewhere.
Okay look, my parents kicked me out of the house a few months ago when my brother found my weed stash and ratted me out. I wasn't really shocked by their initally harsh reaction, because they'd consistently warned me they would do this if they ever caught me doing drugs of any sort (including cigarettes). So they havent totally neglected me, they didn't just throw me out into the streets. They sent me money to find an apartment of my own, they supported me all the way, basically. You'd think they totally forgot about the circumstances that led to all of this in the first place because of how cool they seemed to react. Well when I first walked into the apartment, the very first thing I noticed is that it was really, REALLY cold. Cold as death would be the proper term to use, but that's something I use for bullshit creepypasta. I spent the day unpacking my things and checking the place out, you know, to make good use of my day off from work, got to know the residents of the apartment building. I was actually having a good time, to be completely honest, as I always thought living alone would be a hellish experience. Well it soon, REALLY fucking soon turned into one.
About a week after moving in, learning everyones name, decorating my apartment with movie posters, and my parents stop calling and sending me money and stuff, I literally woke up one morning and found a deep cut inside my hand, between my index and middle finger. There were several droplets of blood on the floor. Yes, i know itseems like OP is descending into bullshit, but just read on. I assumed that maybe something had fallen off the bedside cabinet and had struck my hand, but there was nothing on the floor. I tried to remember any violent activity last night, but all I did really was finish up some school work and watched a movie. I looked around the room for something that could've cut through my hand like that, and when I couldnt find anything I just gave up. But I didn't just pass it off, no, from that point on, I felt a strange presence in the apartment room. It didn't help things out when I woke up one night to the sound of a man COUGHING IN MY FUCKING KITCHEN.
That's right, you read that correctly. I didn't even open my eyes when I heard it, I just listened to him cough loudly from my bedroom, and that was it. I pretended to be asleep because, well, if whatever it was knew I was awake, i feared it'd walk in and cough blood on me and kill me or something. I realize it's irrational to think that, but it's also pretty irrational to hear some cocksucker roaming about in my apartment in the middle of the night while I'm half-asleep.
The next day I obviously just assumed I dreamt the mysterious coughing man, but I knew deep inside my subconscious that I hadn't. Average horror movie cliche, eh? I contemplated moving out of my apartment, because I started having serious sleeping problems. I would need to sleep with my light on and a knife beneath my pillow, or else I wouldn't fall asleep at all. My electricity bill suffered for that, of course, but at least it temporarily cured my insomnia. and by temporarily, I mean that I literally heard my bedroom door open one night as I slept with my light on, and some asshole reach inside and flip off my fucking light switch. He didn't have the decency to close the door, fucking ghost. I took the knife out from under my pillow, and clenching it tight I yelled "who's there?", and then I heard footsteps nearing closer to my room before stopping, and I saw a hand reach in and turn on my light and walk out.
I thought some fucker was playing games with me now, so I got out of bed and fully opened the door and looked around the apartment room for this flaming cocksucker. I couldn't find him, so like a little pussy I said aloud "I have a gun, asswipe. Show yourself". Of course he stayed in hiding. I called the police soon afterwards, and they arrived in like 30 minutes, searched the place, and questioned me for a long time before accusing me of simply hallucinating. I didn't blame them -- if some dumbass called me about a guy who flicked on his light-switch, I'd immediately hang up on him.
Anyways, when the cops finally left the apartment building, that same night when I managed to fall asleep, I had a nightmare that just FUCKED me up. I found myself back in that same night when i heard the man cough, and in the dream I walked to the kitchen where I had heard him coming from that night, and there stood a bald man wearing a white shirt and boxer shorts looking to the ground and coughing out blood. He turned up and looked up me suddenly, and his expression went blank. I was literally paralyzed with fear as he stared at me. When I'd watch those horror movies, I'd always think "RUN YOU FUCKING BASTARD" to the asshole who's just standing there as the killer mutilates his half-sister's boyfriend, but there's no way I'd risk turning my back on a potential demonic being, and no way would I reveal to him my fear, and let him start chasing after me while turned towards him.
He turned away from me after an awkward 30 seconds, and he walked towards my room and laid down in my bed. I was still standing in the kitchen staring intently, watching that fat motherfucker lay down in MY bed, and suddenly my bedroom door closed as he lay spasming out of control, and I woke up.
That same day, I heard that my neighbor had had a heart attack in bed. I wasn't in the correct mindset to think "coincidence", so instead I thought WHAT THE FUCK and without hesitation, I paid my rent and got my ass permanently out of the apartment. I packed my things up quickly, leaving behind some unimportant shit, but when I was trying to drive away, I felt that eery presence of demise in the car with me... was the man in the car with me? Was he behind my seat, ready to slit my throat at the next light. Hysterical at this point, I hit the breaks in the middle of the road, hopefully causing that "demonic figure" to lose its balance or whatever. I remember thinking I wasn't about to die there, not then, fuck that shit. I parked the car, leaped out of it, and started walking. Just started walking and walking and walking for over an hour, until I was lost, miles away from my apartment building, and had to call my mom from a pay phone to pick me up.
My car had obviously been tolled from where I left it parked, but I was not very concerned about it at the moment. She was pulling up on the apartment building, about to drop me off at that hell-hole, and I just started crying, right then and there like a little fucking pussy. I didn't tell her I was scared of the evil boogeyman, but rather I apologized to her about the weed in between sobs. I wasn't embarassed at all about my crying, I only wanted to get rid of that ominous presence I felt everywhere I went, that a man from an alternate dimension was going to slit my throat, or cut off my hand, or send me to a prison where I shall spend eternity crying and begging to be released. I finally got to my parents house, and I hugged my sisters and brother and family as a whole, as it had been weeks since I last saw them in person. We all ate dinner together and my dad teased me about how "reality is tough, aint it?" Honestly, I was handling things well financially, but yes, reality did fucking suck.
That night, sleeping in my old room, the presence was gone. I rejoiced, finally feeling safe for the first time in quite awhile. Today I type this from my parents house, and I intend to stay here in this house until I forget my stay at that fucking apartment room, with old men coughing in my kitchen, cutting my hand at night, flicking my light switch off, and haunting me in my sleep. I realize now it's irrational to think it was a paranormal being, that it's "obvious" that a man was terrorizing me at night. Both scenarios are pretty fucking creepy, though.
sonicmega
Well crap.
AbsurdRandomness
FUCK YOU