Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25379190-20141011000754

''Well this is my first stab at writing a creepypasta. I have plenty of writing expirence but this is my first try at something scary. Let me know what you think.''

Not too long ago, I had fallen on hard times and was forced to move back in with my parents. This was a rough time for me. I lost my job, filed for divorce, and both of my grandparents died that year. But after three years of living with my parents, I had finally collected enough money to buy an apartment.

Once I was all packed up to leave and was telling my parents goodbye, my mom asked me to wait. I did. She left the room and a few minutes later came back with an old wall clock. I remembered it as the one my grandparent kept in the hallway.

"Your grandmother wanted you to have this," She said, handing it to me.

This confused me greatly. My grandparents hated me. Punishing me over the smallest and stupidest things and hitting me for no apparent reason. But whenever I told my parents, the thought it was just me over-imagining and over-exaggerating. I had no idea why they would want me, of all people, to have one of their most prized possessions.

But I took the clock. No use discarding a beautiful object because of its previous owners.

When I got settled into my new apartment, I hung the clock on my bedroom. It just seemed to tie the room together. It hung on the wall above my bed and filled the room with a rhythmic ticking. Considering I hadn't bought a TV for the apartment yet, the only sound that filled the place was the constant ticking as I unpacked each day.

A week after moving into the apartment I laid awake one night. It was pouring outside and kept me from sleeping. So I tossed and turned, listening to the clock hoping that the soothing ticking would eventually lure me to sleep.

The night continued on and the rain continued pouring. I was still awake, but I was unsure what time it was. I kept the advice my mother had given me though, and kept my eyes close to try and avoid breaking any sleep I had already drifted off into. It was easily past midnight, and I was starting to get aggravated that I couldn't sleep.

But then as I continued listening to the clock the ticking seemed to change. Slowly the ticks seemed to be said by a serpent like female voice. It kept its pattern but the voice continued to sing the ticks, every so often getting louder or quieter. Then the tocks started gradually shifting into low, demonic, male voice. It followed it's own pattern of volume until it eventually was in perfect sync with the ticks.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

At first I thought I was dreaming. I thought I had finally drifted off to sleep. But then I realized I couldn't wake up. I had always been one to easily wake from dreams. I couldn't open my eyes, either. I don't know if I physically couldn't or I just knew better not to.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The voices grew louder and seemed closer. I swore I could feel breathing on my neck with each word. Every sound seemed to paralyze me more and more. One tick, I couldn't move my finger. One tock, I couldn't move my whole hand. This continued until I couldn't move anything.

The voices grew more forceful. Angry. They seemed like someone with a tightened throat was yelling them. My head ached, but it only grew louder.

"Stop." I mumbled through my paralyzed lips.

TICK! TOCK!

They grew louder, closer, angrier. The sound of them flooded out the sound of the rain outside. Eventually it sounded like thousands of voices were saying each thing. Starting out with a single voice, then branching into several, and pulling back together into one by the end of the sound. My whole body ached. My mind was fuzzy. The room seemed to be flashing past my closed eyelids.

Then everything went quiet. Even the rain. A few second went by like minutes. My body slowly began to work again.

Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. Out of instinct, my eyes flew open, finally unlatched from their invisible straight jacket.

I stood there. Well, what I looked like when I was eight. Two clock hands were stabbed into him. One in his temple and one through his heart. His eyes were tearing up and blood dripped from his injuries.

"Granny and Papa hit me again." 