Sunday, May 29, 2016

IN FOUR DAYS creepypasta

Taken and reposted from Rosalina Rico’s Cuisine Review. January 21st, 2016

I am sorry – I am at a loss what I can do next. Normally as you all know, this is my restaurant blog and daily journal about my experiences within Philly’s unique diners and dives. Today, I am using this to reach out for help and ideas.

This… for lack of a better word, this stalking started on Wednesday, January 20th..

The first night came when I was at the firm, B****** & D******, running a series of month-to-date reports. I am one of three “seasoned” accountants and as always the other two had conveniently found reasons to be away from the office. Due to our computer system having issues, the reports were pushed back three hours and I was on my fourth cup of coffee.

At 10:38 pm I needed three things: the reports to be done, another cup of awful coffee and a cigarette!

I ran down the hall and went to the ladies restroom. It was deserted. Yes! Lucky me!!

The fluorescence lights always flickered; one intern called it the Disco John. Gave me the creeps each time, but tonight I didn’t want to take the long elevator ride to the parking lot with our designated smoking section. Besides, the fans worked well and would clear out my cigarette smoke in a couple minutes. Yes, this wasn’t my first time sneaking a drag.

Just after my sixth or seventh long pull from the cigarette, the bathroom door squealed as the door was slowly hauled open. In a panic I dropped it into the water below and fanned the air with my arms. Holding my breath, I waited to see who – please not that fat ass from security – was coming in.

Three heavy steps inside, then the person stopped just passed the swinging door.

Crap! Sounds like boots! No one from the office. I thought to myself.

Above the fluorescence bulbs suddenly froze still and then brightened with an odd humming buzz.

The footsteps started again.

This time I heard a squelching sound. Each step made a soft, obscene squishing burp. The person turned the corner and began walking down the length of the stalls. I kept waving the smoke up toward the fans. The visitor stopped right in front of my stall and faced my door.

I sighed heavily. “Sorry… sorry. I know we aren’t allowed to smoke in here. I put it out.”

This would probably go into some kind of Security file under my name. Ugh.

“Uh… I am not done in here, but… I promise no more smoking okay?”

No response.

I coughed Ahem into my hand hoping “he” would get the hint.

No response.

“Look! I know you are just doing your job, but I don’t think you are supposed to do it in the ladies room.”

Nothing. Silence.

I was getting pissed, frustrated and a bit frightened at this point. I tried to see passed the slits in the door but “he” was standing in the center of the stall door. His boots I could see were covered in a nasty grey-green muck. A thick trail of mud followed his steps.

Who the hell was this??

“What do you want? My name? Who are you?”

No answer.

I listened intently and I could make out just a whispery breath on the other side of the door.

“Are you purposefully trying to mess with me, asshole?!”

I waited for something, anything.

Remembering my phone in my slack’s pocket, I reached down and checked to see if I had a signal. I was lucky again.

“You better get the fuck out! I am going to take your picture and then call 911!” I threatened. “You hear me, ya goddamn pervert!”

I rose up from the toilet, yanked my slacks up and held the phone up over the door.

The lights went out! It was pitch black as a tomb.

CHRIST!

My cell phone went dead too. When I checked it, it slipped from my hand as I started shaking uncontrollably.

His breath echoed and seemed louder somehow in the confines of the bathroom.

“Four days… I will have you in four days.” The voice was hollow and stony. No emphasis or emotion.

I screamed and kicked the door hard hoping to knock him down. At that same moment, the lights exploded on and blinded me. I fell forward in my momentum, crashed into the wall outside the stall and fell hard to the floor.

Lying on my back in the muddy grey-green crap, I blinked my eyes repeatedly trying to get them to adjust and see the bastard.

I was alone.



I am not sure how long I laid on the floor of that bathroom. Maybe it was shock, maybe it was disbelief that had just happened or maybe it was just embarrassment – I didn’t report it or call the police. I didn’t want to believe it myself, let alone trying to convince anyone else.

Rayray, my rottweiler, thought it was his lucky night as I had him sleep in my bed.

That next morning, I considered calling in as I hid under the comforter. It felt unnaturally cold in the bedroom.

“You know! You know it was just security, right Rayray? Just another asshole guard trying to be big and bad. Prove he’s got the balls and the badge.” The dog only whined and pawed at my foot.

“Yeah, I know. Get up and get to work.”



I yawned and drank from another hot coffee as I waited for the elevator to come. Yeah, another! Don’t judge.

A rusting sedan went by slowly and worked its way down the row of parked cars. The parking garage was windy; my breath plumed in the brisk morning air. I was a bit early – it was 7:22 am. Again I chided myself for living yet another winter in Pennsylvania. My mother and brother lived just outside Miami. That’s where I should be – not standing here in this refrigerator!

The bell signaled the elevator car arrived and the doors slid open. I walked in and flicked the dead cigarette from my hand behind me.

As the doors closed I wondered aloud, “Did I leave the reports on the printer or did I even get those to my desk before…” I didn’t finish the sentence. Finishing meant completing the thought and the thought scared the living shit out of me. LAST NIGHT NEVER HAPPENED!

Instead of talking more to myself which is a bad habit of mine, I pushed for floor 8.

At floor 4, the overhead lights bloomed brighter and buzzed like a beehive.

At floor 5, the elevator jerked once.

CHRIST!

Floor 6, dead stop. The elevator brakes screeched in anger. Like anyone else would in that situation, I banged repeatedly at the buttons. Hammering the open door button. Nothing worked.

“REALLY?” I shouted. “After last night, now I am about to get stuck in an elevator?”

I hit the intercom button next. “Hello? Can you help me?”

No response.

Suddenly the elevator belled chimed but the car didn’t move. It was still on floor 6.

“Hey out there! Can you get me out? Get help!” I started slapping my hands on the metal doors.

Normally, I don’t get claustrophobic or even nervous inside elevators. But I was still a ball of nerves from the encounter the night before and this just didn’t feel right.

The elevator bell chimed again.

I shivered as it was somehow getting colder in the tiny elevator.

Hitting the intercom again, I screamed, “WAKE THE FUCK UP!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!”

Another bell chime and then the lights cut out. Once more I was standing in complete darkness, scared witless.

Then the elevator doors opened slowly. The lobby on the 6th floor was also pitch black. Nothing could still be seen, only heard.

Do I run? What’s happening? I began to hyperventilate. Where are all the lights?

A fourth bell chime.

The elevator floor shifted with new weight – someone had stepped inside next to me. They never said a word.

I held my breath for what seemed hours, tears streamed down my face.

He was back! And deep down, I knew he would be. I could hear his wispy breathing, smell the grey-green muck from his boots and feel his eyes crawl all over me!

I was completely frozen in place.

Right by my left ear, “Three days… I will have you in three days.”

Screaming like I was on fire, I bolted out of the elevator and down the hallway of floor 6.



Two hours later, security (my “heroes”) found me balled up under a desk in Payroll. I had bitten each of my fingernails off and somehow tore the skin off three toes when I lost my shoes.

Work has imposed a “vacation” for my own good, however, they did admit to me that they found mud tracks in the hall and elevator.

Today is January 22nd -- the third day since this started. I won’t let Rayray leave my side in the apartment and I keep my cell phone charging.

I am not insane (I wish I was. Then there was a chance for a cure or some wonder drugs to put me into a stupor!). Nothing like his has ever happened to me and no one in my family has ever had issues with mental health. I don’t do drugs or drink much and live a pretty normal, healthy life. I am so lost!

It never occurred to me how many times a day that I am alone. We all are alone at least six to a dozen different times during the day. Car rides, bathroom breaks, eating in the breakroom, working late at your job, shopping through the clothes rack in the store, reading in your bed at night, alone in the grocery aisle… elevator rides. We all take it in stride.

But what if something is hunting me when I am all alone?? Four days… I will have you in four days. Four days… I will have you in four days. Four days… I will have you in four days. Four days… I will have you in four days.



I SAW HIS FACE!!

Last night my nerves got the best of me so I took Rayray out of the apartment and we rode into town. I wanted to be with people and in the public view.

I had been wracking my head trying to figure out what was happening. Was this just some creep with a flair for theatrics? Was this something worse? Or could I be having a breakdown of sorts? I need to know and I feel like time is running out for me. Nothing on the internet gave me a clue of what I am dealing with.

On the freeway we encountered a huge traffic jam. While it delayed us for about an hour, being surrounded by a dozen or so cars crammed with people helped and I felt the most secure I have been since my world unfolded.

It’s the weekend and on Friday nights they have a large live music gathering inside the pavilion at East Fairmont Park. My ex-boyfriend Tad would take me there, mainly to score a bag of weed while I listened to the music. It would be overcrowded and well lit. Perfect and just what I needed.

On Cranston Heights Boulevard, I pulled into the B*** of A******’s parking lot. At its east corner was an ATM in a small glass enclosure attached to the main building. The enclosure was nothing more than a carpeted rectangle with the ATM in its back wall, a small trashcan and plant. Next to the machine, a single door marked STAIRS.

Two street lamps bookend the ATM and blanketed the lot with bright light. I had become very sensitive to the lights and the surroundings and took nothing for granted. I was taking note of everything.

Rayray whined as he sensed my apprehension and he stayed obediently at my heels as we entered the small room.

Inside, the air was warm and stale – a heating vent blew directly overhead in between two sets of track lights.

“Oh.. oh.. shit, no!” I muttered as I rummaged through my purse -- my debit card was not in its slot in my wallet. I finally found it buried in a side pocket and I slid it into the machine with a heavy sigh. The park’s ticket booths only took cash and I always liked tipping some of the street performers as well.

The ATM chimed loudly as it accepted the card. The screen blinked at me and then turned off.

The machine chimed again.

My heart began to pound. I glanced over my shoulder to see the empty lot behind me.

EMPTY.

I couldn’t believe I left myself open once again!

Another chime from the machine behind me.

That’s three chimes… my brain screamed at me.

I backed up against it just as the street lamp on the right of the ATM enclosure burst, followed up by the lamp on the left. The lot fell into absolute darkness; death was surely perched to pounce upon me if I left the enclosure.

“Oh my god, Rayray, what is he?” I moaned. “What am I going to do?”

The room grew colder, the air itself denser. The track lighting sets flickered and then died too.

One more chime signaled his presence.

Rayray growled and his fur bristled as he stepped in front of me. On pure instinct, I bolted for the door marked as STAIRS. He was not getting next to me ever again!

A sudden blast of wind from the open enclosure door blew my hair.

“Rayray come!” I screeched as I lunged through the door and down the steps, but the door slammed shut behind me.

I had no idea where this stairwell was leading me to, but I couldn’t think straight at this point.

Parallel lines of fluorescents on the walls began to explode as I approached them. The blackness nipped at my heels like a stalking wolf.

But even blind I ran or stumbled on -- I think I traveled down almost five flights to the bottom. There I found only a locked door with a tiny window looking at an abandoned underground parking lot. I waited helpless and shivering against it. Sitting in the cold, trapped in a pit while the abomination waited above for me.

While I tried to figure what would come next, I realized that I could hear nothing. No wind, no breathing, no sounds of traffic. Not even the ATM chimes.

He isn’t gone. I knew this deep in my soul. He wasn’t done with me.

Or did he already kill me and this is death? The thought raced through my mind before I could contain it. Perhaps I am already lying in my coffin and I don’t even know it?

I stared up into the black maw of the stairwell.

Then a brief hope flickered in my head. I began to rummage through my purse again, feeling around.

My fingers curled around my prize just as a sound echoed down to me.

Drip…. Drippp…. Dripppp….

It seemed the ceiling maybe had sprung a leak.

But it wasn’t raining when we came into the bank! My brain screamed at me once again.

Drip…. Drippp…. Dripppp….

The steady patter of drops grew stronger and began to splash loudly on the cement floor before my legs. A stream of drops forming into a puddle.

Then just behind the sounds of the water drops, I heard his footsteps.

Squellccchhh…. Sqquueeelllccchhhhh

His muck-covered boots stuck to the metal stairs. What was he pouring over the steps?

The sounds of the rain coming from above and his steady, slow footfalls inner mixed as he came down to me.

When he got to the landing just above mine, the drops finally faltered and stopped. I held my breath; my heart nearly bursting from the confines of my chest and waited for the words I knew were coming.

“Two days… I will hav—“

I had been better prepped this time – I raised a pen flashlight I had carried in the purse and clicked the flashlight on. The small beam of light illuminated the landing -- a towering, shadowy figure stood. He roared and his shape swirled away from the beam and his features bled into the dark shadows of the stairwell.

But as I said before – I SAW THE BASTARD’S FACE.

His cheeks was leathery and drawn, almost pulled down toward his chest. His chin covered in coarse grey and brown hair. His lips were thin and his mouth pressed tight into a single line. The nose was beaklike and cleft at the end.

But the eyes, the eyes… There were three black hollow sockets, one sitting on two in some skeletal-like pyramid.

I think I fainted. I don’t remember even how I got back to my apartment.

I don’t even know where Rayray is.



Article excerpt from THE BOSTONIAN JOURNAL -- January 24, 2016

First of the Year’s Snowstorms Cripples Philadelpha, PA The largest snowstorm in history for the Northeast U.S. Coast occurred just after the New Year on January 23rd, 2016. This storm broke all-time snowfall records for Pennsylvania – Philadelphia (14.8 inches), Pittsburg (13.1 inches) and Scranton (13.8 inches). Many residents were restricted to their homes while crews scrambled to open the roads for emergency services. Measurable snow fell as far south as Jacksonville and Tallahassee, Florida.

In addition to record amounts of snow, unprecedented cold temperatures accompanied the storm. All-time record lows were smashed across the coastal states of Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Maryland. Artic air flooded south as low as the top portions of Florida.

Statewide-bans of travel were implemented.



Taken and reposted from Amara Rico’s Blog – January 29th, 2016

The above posts were the last entries on my sister's laptop. A welfare check made on January 25th by the local authorities found her apartment door open; snow and mud covered a lot of the living room. It seems that the door had been open during most of the storm.

Her family prays for her safety and requests any help or information you can give.

Please call 1-888-772-6600 -- 24 hour hotline.



Submitted May 30, 2016 at 11:32AM by Rivyen http://ift.tt/1qWlCP7 creepypasta

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