Olá pessoal! Após um tempo sem ideias e indeciso sobre o que postar, decidi postar um quadro sobre histórias engraçadas, assustadoras ou simplesmente interessantes que encontro na internet (Ou que eu mesmo faço). Quis começar a série com uma Creepypasta que me marcou. Sempre li Creepypastas, desde quando era meio novo, e tenho de admitir que as ditas "famosas" Creepypastas não são tão boas assim. A história do Slender Man é interessante, e a maioria das Creepypastas feitas por fãs desta são interessantes também. Nada a comentar sobre ele. Nem sobre Sonic.EXE (Que, infelizmente, causou uma onda de Creepypastas horríveis e clones de histórias de terror que vieram de jogos) e Abandoned by Disney (Que é uma das histórias de terror mais fantásticas que já li). Mas a grande maioria é medíocre para horrível, como Jeff the Killer (Uma história impossível, com garotos de uns 12 anos carregando armas de fogo á plena vista e uma casa inteira desabando em pouco tempo por causa de um incêndio que ninguém percebeu) e Smile.jpg (O conceito é interessante, mas a história em si só tem uma parte boa, que é no final, o resto não serve para muita coisa). Essas histórias ruins dão má fama para as Creepypastas, e por isso, as pessoas costumam julgá-las antes de fato conhecê-las... E acabam não vendo algumas das histórias mais fantásticas já escritas pelo homem.
A primeira história que resolvi postar se chama "NoEnd House", a Casa Sem Fim.
NoEnd House
Autor: Brian Russel (http://frombriansdesk.blogspot.com/).
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Deixe-me começar dizendo que Peter Terry era viciado em heroína.
Nós eramos amigos no colégio e continuamos ser depois que eu graduei. Note que eu disse "eu". Ele saiu depois de dois anos passando de ano raspando. Depois que eu me mudei dos dormitórios para um pequeno apartamento, eu não vi Peter muito. Nós conversaríamos online algumas vezes (AIM era rei nos anos pré-Facebook). Tinha uma época em que ele não ficava online por cinco semanas sem parar. Eu não estava preocupado. Ele era um cara bem notório e ainda viciado, então eu simplesmente assumi que ele tinha parado de se importar. Então, uma noite, eu o vi entrar no chat. Mas antes que eu pudesse iniciar uma conversação, ele me mandou uma mensagem.
"David, cara, precisamos conversar."
Foi então quando ele me contou sobre a Casa Sem Fim. Ela tinha esse nome porque ninguém nunca tinha alcançado a última saída. As regras eram muito simples e clichê: Chegue na última sala da construção e você ganha 500$. Tinha nove salas no total. A casa estava localizada fora da cidade, mais ou menos quatro milhas da minha casa. Aparentemente Peter tinha tentado e fracassado. Ele era um viciado em heroína e sabe-se-lá-o-quê mais, então eu pensei que as drogas haviam ganhado dele e que ele tinha fugido de um fantasma de papel ou algo. Ele me disse que seria demais para qualquer um. Que era anormal.
Eu não acreditei nele. Eu contei para ele que iria checar na próxima noite e não importa o quanto ele tentasse me convencer a não ir, 500$ parecia uma oferta boa demais para ser verdadeira. Eu tinha de ir. Eu saí na noite seguinte.
Quando eu cheguei, eu imediatamente percebi algo de estranho sobre a construção. Você já viu ou leu algo que não devia ser assustador, mas por alguma razão um arrepio sobe pela sua espinha? Eu caminhei até a construção e o sentimento de inquietação simplesmente se intensificou enquanto eu abria a porta da frente.
Meu coração bateu mais devagar e eu deixei um suspiro de alívio escapar de mim enquanto eu entrava. A sala parecia um lobby dum hotel normal decorado para o Halloween. Uma placa estava colocada no lugar de um trabalhador. Nela, estava escrito: "Sala 1 por aqui aqui. Oito a mais vem depois. Chegue no final e você vence!" Eu dei uma risada e atravessei a sala em direção da primeira porta.
A primeira área era praticamente risível. A decoração parecia a parte de Halloween de um K-Mart, completa com fantasmas de pano e zumbis animatrônicos que emitiam um grunhido estático quando você passava por eles. No final havia uma saída; Era a única porta além da que eu havia atravessado. Eu abri caminho através de teias de aranha falsas e abri a porta para a segunda sala.
Eu foi cumprimentado por névoa enquanto eu abria a porta. Essa sala definitivamente estava mais avançada em termos de tecnologia. Eles não tinham somente uma máquina de fazer névoa, mas um morcego estava preso ao teto e voava em círculos. Assustador. Eles pareciam ter uma música de Halloween que alguém encontraria numa loja de 99 centavos que estava tocando em loop em algum lugar da sala. Eu não vi um stereo, mas eu assumi que eles deviam estar usando um sistema PA. Eu pisei em cima de alguns ratos de brinquedo que estavam espalhados por aí e andei com o peito inflado até a próxima área.
Eu alcancei a maçaneta e meu coração afundou até minhas pernas. Eu não queria abrir essa porta. Um sentimento de pavor me atingiu com tanta força que eu mal mal conseguia pensar. A lógica retornou a mim após uns momentos aterrorizantes, e eu espantei-o e entrei na próxima sala.
Na sala 3, as coisas começaram á mudar.
Na superfície, ela parecia uma sala normal. Havia uma cadeira no meio de um piso feito de madeira. Um único abajur no canto fazia um mau trabalho em iluminar a sala, criando sombras através do piso e das paredes. Esse era o problema. Sombras. Plural.
Com a exceção da sombra da cadeira, havia outras. Eu mal havia entrado e já estava aterrorizado. Foi nesse momento que percebi que algo não estava certo. Eu nem pensei quando eu automaticamente tentei abrir a porta que havia atravessado. Ela estava trancada do outro lado.
Isso me perturbou. Alguém estava trancando as portas enquanto eu progredia? Não havia jeito. Eu teria escutado qualquer um que tentasse. Era uma tranca mecânica que se ativava automaticamente? Talvez. Mas agora eu estava assustado demais para pensar. Eu voltei para a sala, e as sombras haviam sumido. A sombra da cadeira permanecera, mas as outras haviam sumido. Eu lentamente comecei á andar. Eu costumava alucinar quando era uma criança, então desconsiderei as sombras, pensando que fossem apenas invenções da minha imaginação. Eu comecei a me sentir melhor enquanto eu caminhava até o meio da sala. Eu olhei para baixo enquanto caminhava, e foi então que eu vi.
Ou não vi. Minha sombra não estava ali. Eu não tive tempo para gritar. Eu corri o mais rápido que pude para a outra porta e me lancei sem nem pensar para dentro da outra sala.
A quarta sala era possivelmente a mais perturbadora. Enquanto eu fechava a porta, toda a luz pareceu ser sugada e colocada na sala anterior. Eu fiquei lá, envolto pela escuridão, sem poder se mover. Eu não tinha medo do escuro e nunca tive, mas eu estava absolutamente aterrorizado. Toda a visão havia escapado de mim. Eu havia minha mão na frente de minha cara, e se eu não soubesse o que eu estava fazendo, jamais poderia dizer o que estava acontecendo. A escuridão não descreve isso. Eu não podia ouvir nada. Era silêncio mortal. Quando você está numa sala a prova de som, você ainda consegue escutar a sua própria respiração. Você pode escutar você estando vivo.
Eu não podia.
Eu comecei á cambalear para frente após alguns momentos, meu coração que batia rapidamente sendo a única coisa que podia sentir. Não dava para ver porta alguma. Não tinha certeza se tinha uma agora. O silêncio foi quebrado por um zumbido baixo.
Eu senti algo atrás de mim. Eu me virei selvagemente, mas eu mal podia ver meu nariz. Porém, eu sabia que aquilo estava ali. Não importa o quão escuro estivesse, eu sabia que alguma coisa estava lá. O som ficou mais alto, perto. Parecia ter me encurralado, mas eu sabia que seja lá o que estivesse fazendo o som estava na minha frente, aproximando-se. Eu dei um passo para trás; Eu nunca havia sentido esse tipo de medo. Eu não consigo descrever medo de verdade. Eu não estava com medo do fato que iria morrer; Eu estava com medo da alternativa. Eu tinha medo do que essa coisa tinha guardada para mim. Então as luzes brilharam por um segundo e eu o vi.
Nothing. I saw nothing and I know I saw nothing there. The room was again plunged into darkness and the hum became a wild screech. I screamed in protest; I couldn't hear this goddamn sound for another minute. I ran backwards, away from the noise, and fumbled for the door handle. I turned and fell into room five.
Before I describe room five, you have to understand something. I am not a drug addict. I have had no history of drug abuse or any sort of psychosis short of the childhood hallucinations I mentioned earlier, and those were only when I was really tired or just waking up. I entered the NoEnd House with a clear head.
After falling in from the previous room, my view of room five was from my back, looking up at the ceiling. What I saw didn't scare me; it simply surprised me. Trees had grown into the room and towered above my head. The ceilings in this room were taller than the others, which made me think I was in the center of the house. I got up off the floor, dusted myself off, and took a look around. It was definitely the biggest room of them all. I couldn't even see the door from where I was; various brush and trees must have blocked my line of sight with the exit.
Up to this point, I figured the rooms were going to get scarier, but this was a paradise compared to the last room. I also assumed whatever was in room four stayed back there. I was incredibly wrong.
As I made my way deeper into the room, I began to hear what one would hear if they were in a forest; chirping bugs and the occasional flap of birds seemed to be my only company in this room. That was the thing that bothered me the most. I heard the bugs and other animals, but I didn't see any of them. I began to wonder how big this house was. From the outside when I first walked up to it, it looked like a regular house. It was definitely on the bigger side, but this was almost a full forest in here. The canopy covered my view of the ceiling, but I assumed it was still there, however high it was. I couldn't see any walls, either. The only way I knew I was still inside was that the floor matched the other rooms: the standard dark wood paneling.
I kept walking, hoping that the next tree I passed would reveal the door. After a few moments of walking, I felt a mosquito fly onto my arm. I shook it off and kept going. A second later, I felt about ten more land on my skin at different places. I felt them crawl up and down my arms and legs and a few made their way across my face. I flailed wildly to get them all off but they just kept crawling. I looked down and let out a muffled scream - more of a whimper, to be honest. I didn't see a single bug. Not one bug was on me, but I could feel them crawl. I heard them fly by my face and sting my skin but I couldn't see a single one. I dropped to the ground and began to roll wildly. I was desperate. I hated bugs, especially ones I couldn't see or touch. But these bugs could touch me and they were everywhere.
I began to crawl. I had no idea where I was going; the entrance was nowhere in sight and I still hadn't even seen the exit. So I just crawled, my skin wriggling with the presence of those phantom bugs. After what seemed like hours, I found the door. I grabbed the nearest tree and propped myself up, mindlessly slapping my arms and legs to no avail. I tried to run, but I couldn't; my body was exhausted from crawling and dealing with whatever it was that was on me. I took a few shaky steps to the door, grabbing each tree on the way for support.
It was only a few feet away when I heard it. The low hum from before. It was coming from the next room and it was deeper. I could almost feel it inside my body, like when you stand next to an amp at a concert. The feeling of the bugs on me lessened as the hum grew louder. As I placed my hand on the doorknob, the bugs were completely gone but I couldn't bring myself to turn the knob. I knew that if I let go, the bugs would return and there was no way I would make it back to room four. I just stood there, my head pressed against the door marked six and my hand shakily grasping the knob. The hum was so loud I couldn't even hear myself pretend to think. There was nothing I could do but move on. Room six was next, and room six was Hell.
I closed the door behind me, my eyes held shut and my ears ringing. The hum was surrounding me. As the door clicked into place, the hum was gone. I opened my eyes in surprise and the door I had shut was gone. It was just a wall now. I looked around in shock. The room was identical to room three - the same chair and lamp - but with the correct amount of shadows this time. The only real difference was that there was no exit door and the one I came in through was gone. As I said before, I had no previous issues in terms of mental instability, but at that moment I fell into what I now know was insanity. I didn't scream. I didn't make a sound.
At first I scratched softly. The wall was tough, but I knew the door was there somewhere. I just knew it was. I scratched at where the doorknob was. I clawed at the wall frantically with both hands, my nails being filed down to the skin against the wood. I fell silently to my knees, the only sound in the room the incessant scratching against the wall. I knew it was there. The door was there, I knew it was just there. I knew if I could just get past this wall -
"Are you alright?"
I jumped off the ground and spun in one motion. I leaned against the wall behind me and I saw what it was that spoke to me; to this day I regret ever turning around.
There was a little girl. She was wearing a soft, white dress that went down to her ankles. She had long blonde hair to the middle of her back and white skin and blue eyes. She was the most frightening thing I had ever seen, and I know that nothing in my life will ever be as unnerving as what I saw in her. While looking at her, I saw something else. Where she stood I saw what looked like a man's body, only larger than normal and covered in hair. He was naked from head to toe, but his head was not human and his toes were hooves. It wasn't the Devil, but at that moment it might as well have been. The form had the head of a ram and the snout of a wolf.
It was horrifying and it was synonymous with the little girl in front of me. They were the same form. I can't really describe it, but I saw them at the same time. They shared the same spot in that room, but it was like looking at two separate dimensions. When I saw the girl I saw the form, and when I saw the form I saw the girl. I couldn't speak. I could barely even see. My mind was revolting against what it was attempting to process. I had been scared before in my life and I had never been more scared than when I was trapped in the fourth room, but that was before room six. I just stood there, staring at whatever it was that spoke to me. There was no exit. I was trapped here with it. And then it spoke again.
"David, you should have listened."
When it spoke, I heard the words of the little girl, but the other form spoke through my mind in a voice I won't attempt to describe. There was no other sound. The voice just kept repeating that sentence over and over in my mind and I agreed. I didn't know what to do. I was slipping into madness, yet couldn't take my eyes off what was in front of me. I dropped to the floor. I thought I had passed out, but the room wouldn't let me. I just wanted it to end. I was on my side, my eyes wide open and the form staring down at me. Scurrying across the floor in front of me was one of the battery-powered rats from the second room.
The house was toying with me. But for some reason, seeing that rat pulled my mind back from whatever depths it was headed and I looked around the room. I was getting out of there. I was determined to get out of that house and live and never think about this place again. I knew this room was Hell and I wasn't ready to take up a residency. At first, it was just my eyes that moved. I searched the walls for any kind of opening. The room wasn't that big, so it didn't take long to soak up the entire layout. The demon still taunted me, the voice growing louder as the form stayed rooted where it stood. I placed my hand on the floor, lifted myself up to all four and turned to scan the wall behind me.
Then I saw something I couldn't believe. The form was now right at my back, whispering into my mind how I shouldn't have come. I felt its breath on the back of my neck, but I refused to turn around. A large rectangle was scratched into the wood, with a small dent chipped away in the center of it. Right in front of my eyes I saw the large seven I had mindlessly etched into the wall. I knew what it was: room seven was just beyond that wall where room five was moments ago.
I don't know how I had done it - maybe it was just my state of mind at the time - but I had created the door. I knew I had. In my madness, I had scratched into the wall what I needed the most: an exit to the next room. Room seven was close. I knew the demon was right behind me, but for some reason it couldn't touch me. I closed my eyes and placed both hands on the large seven in front of me. I pushed. I pushed as hard as I could. The demon was now screaming in my ear. It told me I was never leaving. It told me that this was the end but I wasn't going to die; I was going to live there in room six with it. I wasn't. I pushed and screamed at the top of my lungs. I knew I was going to push through the wall eventually.
I clenched my eyes shut and screamed, and the demon was gone. I was left in silence. I turned around slowly and was greeted by the room as it was when I entered: just a chair and a lamp. I couldn't believe it, but I didn't have time to well. I turned back to the seven and jumped back slightly. What I saw was a door. It wasn't the one I had scratched in, but a regular door with a large seven on it. My whole body was shaking. It took me a while to turn the knob. I just stood there for a while, staring at the door. I couldn't stay in room six. I couldn't. But if this was only room six, I couldn't imagine was seven had in store. I must have stood there for an hour, just staring at the seven. Finally, with a deep breath, I twisted the knob and opened the door to room seven.
I stumbled through the door mentally exhausted and physically weak. The door behind me closed and I realized where I was. I was outside. Not outside like room five, but actually outside. My eyes stung. I wanted to cry. I fell to my knees and tried but I couldn't. I was finally out of that hell. I didn't even care about the prize that was promised. I turned and saw that the door I just went through was the entrance. I walked to my car and drove home, thinking of how nice a shower sounded.
As I pulled up to my house, I felt uneasy. The joy of leaving NoEnd House had faded and dread was slowly building in my stomach. I shook it off as residual from the house and made my way to the front door. I entered and immediately went up to my room. There on my bed was my cat, Baskerville. He was the first living thing I had seen all night and I reached to pet him. He hissed and swiped at my hand. I recoiled in shock, as he had never acted like that. I thought, "Whatever, he's an old cat." I jumped in the shower and got ready for what I was expecting to be a sleepless night.
After my shower, I went to the kitchen to make something to eat. I descended the stairs and turned into the family room; what I saw would be forever burned into my mind, however. My parents were lying on the ground, naked and covered in blood. They were mutilated to near-unidentifiable states. Their limbs were removed and placed next to their bodies, and their heads were placed on their chests facing me. The most unsettling part was their expressions. They were smiling, as though they were happy to see me. I vomited and sobbed there in the family room. I didn't know what had happened; they didn't even live with me at the time. I was a mess. Then I saw it: a door that was never there before. A door with a large eight scrawled on it in blood.
I was still in the house. I was standing in my family room but I was in room seven. The faces of my parents smiled wider as I realized this. They weren't my parents; they couldn't be, but they looked exactly like them. The door marked eight was across the room, behind the mutilated bodies in front of me. I knew I had to move on, but at that moment I gave up. The smiling faces tore into my mind; they grounded me where I stood. I vomited again and nearly collapsed. Then the hum returned. It was louder than ever and it filled the house and shook the walls. The hum compelled me to walk.
I began to walk slowly, making my way closer to the door and the bodies. I could barely stand, let alone walk, and the closer I got to my parents the closer I came to suicide. The walls were now shaking so hard it seemed as though they were going to crumble, but still the faces smiled at me. As I inched closer, their eyes followed me. I was now between the two bodies, a few feet away from the door. The dismembered hands clawed their way across the carpet towards me, all while the faces continued to stare. New terror washed over me and I walked faster. I didn't want to hear them speak. I didn't want the voices to match those of my parents. They began to open their mouths and the hands were inches from my feet. In a dash of desperation, I lunged toward the door, threw it open, and slammed it behind me. Room eight.
I was done. After what I had just experienced, I knew there wasn't anything else this fucking house could throw at me that I couldn't live through. There was nothing short of the fires of Hell that I wasn't ready for. Unfortunately, I underestimated the abilities of NoEnd House. Unfortunately, things got more disturbing, more terrifying, and more unspeakable in room eight.
I still have trouble believing what I saw in room eight. Again, the room was a carbon copy of rooms three and six, but sitting in the usually empty chair was a man. After a few seconds of disbelief, my mind finally accepted the fact that the man sitting in the chair was me. Not someone who looked like me; it was David Williams. I walked closer. I had to get a better look even though I was sure of it. He looked up at me and I noticed tears in his eyes.
"Please... please, don't do it. Please, don't hurt me."
"What?" I asked. "Who are you? I'm not going to hurt you."
"Yes you are..." He was sobbing now. "You're going to hurt me and I don't want you to." He sat in the chair with his legs up and began rocking back and forth. It was actually pretty pathetic looking, especially since he was me, identical in every way.
"Listen, who are you?" I was now only a few feet from my doppelgänger. It was the weirdest experience yet, standing there talking to myself. I wasn't scared, but I would be soon. "Why are you-"
"You're going to hurt me you're going to hurt me if you want to leave you're going to hurt me."
"Why are you saying this? Just calm down, alright? Let's try and figure this-" And then I saw it. The David sitting down was wearing the same clothes as me, except for a small red patch on his shirt embroidered with the number nine.
"You're going to hurt me you're going to hurt me don't please you're going to hurt me..."
My eyes didn't leave that small number on his chest. I knew exactly what it was. The first few doors were plain and simple, but after a while they got a little more ambiguous. Seven was scratched into the wall, but by my own hands. Eight was marked in blood above the bodies of my parents. But nine - this number was on a person, a living person. Worse still, it was on a person that looked exactly like me.
"David?" I had to ask.
"Yes... you're going to hurt me you're going to hurt me..." He continued to sob and rock.
He answered to David. He was me, right down to the voice. But that nine. I paced around for a few minutes while he sobbed in his chair. The room had no door and, similarly to room six, the door I came through was gone. For some reason, I assumed that scratching would get me nowhere this time. I studied the walls and floor around the chair, sticking my head underneath and seeing if anything was below. Unfortunately, there was. Below the chair was a knife. Attached was a tag that read, "To David - From Management."
The feeling in my stomach as I read that tag was something sinister. I wanted to throw up and the last thing I wanted to do was remove that knife from under that chair. The other David was still sobbing uncontrollably. My mind was spinning into an attic of unanswerable questions. Who put this here and how did they get my name? Not to mention the fact that as I knelt on the cold wood floor I also sat in that chair, sobbing in protest of being hurt by myself. It was all too much to process. The house and the management had been playing with me this whole time. My thoughts for some reason turned to Peter and whether or not he got this far. If he did, if he met a Peter Terry sobbing in this very chair, rocking back and forth... I shook those thoughts out of my head; they didn't matter. I took the knife from under the chair and immidately the other David went quiet.
"David," He said in my voice, "What do you think you're going to do?"
I lifted myself from the ground and clenched the knife in my hand.
"I'm going to get out of here."
David was still sitting in the chair, though he was very calm now. He looked up at me with a slight grin. I couldn't tell if he was going to laugh or strangle me. Slowly, he got up from the chair and stood, facing me. It was uncanny. His height and even the way he stood matched mine. I felt the rubber hilt of the knife in my hand and gripped it tighter. I don't know what I was planning on doing with it, but I had a feeling I was going to need it.
"Now," his voice was slightly deeper than my own. "I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt you and I'm going to keep you here." I didn't respond. I just lunged and tackled him to the ground. I had mounted him and looked down, knife poised and ready. He looked up at me, terrified. It was like I was looking in a mirror. Then the hum returned, low and distant, though I still felt it deep in my body. David looked up at me as I looked down at myself. The hum was getting louder and I felt something inside me snap. With one motion, I slammed the knife into the patch on his chest and ripped down. Blackness fell on the room and I was falling.
The darkness around me was like nothing I had experienced up to that point. Room four was dark, but it didn't come close to what was completely engulfing me. I wasn't even sure if I was falling after a while. I felt weightless, covered in dark. Then a deep sadness came over me. I felt lost, depressed, and suicidal. The sight of my parents entered my mind. I knew it wasn't real, but I had seen it and the mind has trouble differentiating between what is real and what isn't. The sadness only deepened. I was in room nine for what seemed like days. The final room. And that's exactly what it was: the end. NoEnd House had an end and I had reached it. At that moment, I gave up. I knew I would be in that in-between state forever, accompanied by nothing but darkness. Not even the hum was there to keep me sane.
I had lost all senses. I couldn't feel myself. I couldn't hear anything. Sight was completely useless here. I searched for a taste in my mouth and found nothing. I felt disembodied and completely lost. I knew where I was. This was Hell. Room nine was Hell. Then it happened. A light. One of those stereotypical lights at the end of the tunnel. I felt ground come up from below me and I was standing. After a moment or two of gathering my thoughts and senses, I slowly walked toward that light.
As I approached the light, it took form. It was a vertical slit down the side of an unmarked door. I slowly walked through the door and found myself back where I started: the lobby of NoEnd House. It was exactly how I left it: still empty, still decorated with childish Halloween decorations. After everything that had happened that night, I was still wary of where I was. After a few moments of normalcy, I looked around the place trying to find anything different. On the desk was a plain white envelope with my name handwritten on it. Immensely curious, yet still cautious, I mustered up the courage to open the envelope. Inside was a letter, again handwritten.
David Williams,
Congratulations! You have made it to the end of NoEnd House! Please accept this prize as a token of great achievement.
Yours forever,
Management.
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