Creepypasta Wiki

One night, at around 6 PM, I was bored beyond comprehension. I decided to head over to my computer and play some Minecraft. There was no way I was going to play vanilla, so I lurked for a few minutes on the forums. I came across a mod called the Clay Soldier mod. I installed it and proceeded to play it.

After an hour, it got boring. I knew the only way to have fun with it was if I built a big arena, and I was to tired to do that. I wanted something hands-on to do, so I headed over to my local dollar store. I searched the aisles up and down, until I found what I went there for. Modeling clay. The last package, too. I payed for it and left.

When I got home, I got started right away. I got some old newspapers and spread them out across my dining room table. I opened the package and cut a good sized piece off of the big brick of clay. I made some little men and a malnourished horse (made body too skinny) with a couple of clay planes. I was playing with clay until about 10:34 PM. I decided to hit the hay and call it a night. I packed the clay together and put it back in the bag and left it on the table. I took a shower and went to bed. Before I went to bed I remembered I didn't have work the next day, so I had more time to model with the clay.

The next morning I woke up thinking of all the fun I would have, but then I got to my dining room table.

Over the table was what looked like a battlefield. White men were in running positions. Some were torn in half. Red clay was "seeping" out of the torsos of the torn men. One clay man made of red clay was in the middle or ripping a white clay man in half, but he was frozen. I was half in shock, half chuckling. I looked around my house for a person, because I thought someone broke in and played with my clay. I shrugged it off and got a closer look at the clay carnage that went on. I saw the damage, and just decided to clean it up. none of the clay got mixed together, not that I could see. I put all the white clay back onto the big brick and put all of the red clay into a sandwich bag. I was about to put the clay somewhere away from the table, when my girlfriend called me. We talked for a bit, and we decided on going to the movies. I forgot about my original plans for the clay and just put it back on the table.

After going to the movies and dropping off my girlfriend, I returned home.

What I saw this time was even worse.

White clay men were now completely dismembered. The red clay was all over. This time, there were more red clay men than white. What I also noticed was that the clay in the bag was now 2/3 red clay. I groaned, not because of fear, but because I had to clean all this up. I was really starting to get annoyed. Again I looked around my house, in every nook and cranny, trying to find someone or something responsible. Nothing. I just jammed all the clay into the bag and left it there. I was hungry and tired from picking clay off of the floor and table, so I just decided to go out to eat, but not before putting up a camera.

When I came home, I was expecting something horrible to be on the table, but no. This time, there was red clay spelling out words. "BED CLOSET" was what the clay spelled out. I gulped, and knew something horrible was waiting for me. I walked in my room, and turned the lights on. I decided I wasn't going to be like some horror movie cliche where the retard opens the door slowly and dies. I swung my closet door open, and saw something pretty comical.

White clay men were hanging by red clay on the pole in my closet where I hang my shirts. There were a total of six. I was in the middle of scraping the clay off of the pole when I remembered the camera I put up before leaving. I took some more men down and went to the table. I shoved the clay in the bag and grabbed the camcorder. I rewound the used up tape. I saw the clay bag fall down with a slam, with red clay men forming out of the clay and six white clay men being pulled out, with little red cuffs on their hands. One red man had a long string of clay which was coiled in his hands. All of the clay men jumped off of the table. After three minutes had passed, another red clay man came out of the bag of clay with six shorter clay strings. He jumped off as well. Ten minutes later, a piece of red clay was thrown on the table, with two red clay men climbing up it. they detached the red clay string and went into the bag. In a couple of seconds one more man came out of the bag. He pulled the entire bag over to the center of the table. I was surprised at this feat, because seeing a tiny clay man pull a heavy bag is pretty impressive. He took more red clay out of the bag and formed them into the letters I saw on the table earlier. He pushed the bag back to its original spot and walked back into it.

The recording cut off there. I didn't know what to think. First, I thought I could exploit this "magic clay", using it to make myself a big profit. But no, I decided against that. I went back to scraping the last of the clay off of the pole in my closet and closed the door. I took the clay and put it in the bag. I decided tonight would be the night that they wouldn't get out. The clay in the bag was four-fifths clay now. Only a tiny sliver of white clay was left. I went into my shed outside. I searched for a bit, but I found it. Duct tape. The ultimate tool for men. I closed my shed door, and went back inside. The clay bag shifted in place. On the table was "YOU'RE NEXT" in red clay. I said "Yeah, right." out loud and taped the bag shut. I put the bag in the safe under my desk and closed the door, spinning the combination lock right after. I got in bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

I awoke at around 5 AM. I could hear a tapping sound. I didn't know where it was coming from, but then I passed by my desk. It was coming from the safe. I forgot about the clay men. I opened it, and from that moment on I doomed myself. An entire army of red clay men bursted out of the safe, climbing on to me. They threw clay in my eyes. I was clawing at my eyes and back and chest, but the men kept their grip. I was flailing my arms around in a desperate attempt to get them off of me, but nothing worked. I eventually fell out of my second story window. There I lay, blinded and bruised, with a broken leg and one broken rib. Some passersby eventually found me, but all of the clay men had fled the scene.

I was taken to the hospital by these two civilians, where I was treated for the leg and rib. I was still bedridden though. A friendly nurse came in one day, saying she had mail for me. I greeted her and gave her my thanks. It was a card. It was blank on the front and back. I opened it up, and it read "GET WELL SOON". Underneath the lettering was a blot of red clay.