Creepypasta Wiki

Author’s Note: This is a revised version of one of my first (and one of my favorite) creative writing projects in fifth grade, and I wanted to share it onto this website. This is a micropasta of just below 800 words and does not really fit into my story chronology, but is still one of my official stories. Enjoy!

Long ago there lived a king. He was an hedonistic, treacherous and greedy king who never kept his promises and was hated by all his subjects. His notoriously brutal enforcers kept the subjects in line to  prevent uprisings. Anyone who opposed him was executed, but of course nobody said anything because they would be executed too. It was a truly miserable time to live.

One day he was peering out of his castle window at his subjects' village in the far distance, sneering down at their pathetic poverty. His eyes registered many brilliant, burning lights illuminating the landscape. Was it a farm or farmhouse on fire? Well, then I won’t get my fair share of grain that the farmer grew. In reality, Aspenclius diverted almost all of their grain and money to his secret service of aristocratic enforcers. The rich got richer and the poor got poorer and if the poor couldn’t meet their quota a lesson was made to the other peasants. He was about to turn away, but then viewed a luminescently blue glow approaching the window. He went outside, out of curiosity, to look. King Aspenclius shook his head in disbelief as the glow solidified into a humanoid figure. He pinched himself, but did not wake up, and looked again. The figure was still moving toward him, meters away. At about a meter away from him it stopped. Recoiling, he looked at it but could not make out any of its features which appeared blurred and melted. Then it spoke.

"I've waited a long time to see you, King Aspenclius."

"Wh—who are you?" he demanded in cold, numb shock.

The figure did not answer his question, instead it shook its head. "You should be ashamed of the sins you have committed, the land you have scourged, the souls you have condemned. You promised your grain farmers that you would equally split the food they grew, half for them and their families, half for you. Instead, you seized their farms and mills, and didn’t care enough to give them enough to feed their families and children, so they collectively starved. Then, when you caught the farmers trying to steal grain from your property to feed their families, who wouldn’t have starved if you fed them in the first place, sentenced them to death with no mercy.”

"That was their choice to sign away their land!" exclaimed King Aspenclius defensively. “They agreed in a contract!”

“A contract that they could not read! You limited education on purpose!”

“Education is secondary to hard work and moral character!”

The figure spat. “Moral character that you lack completely. You told the stonemasons and blacksmiths who built your town hall, your palace, and city walls they would be rewarded and paid for all their hard work and service to you. When they finished their assigned tasks, and those tasks they did well, you cheated them and cast them aside with zero payment. You should be grateful that you have a palace and defenses for your city.“

"I hired them, and I paid them fair wages!" King Aspenclius raged indignantly.

“Wages they never got to use before you ordered your enforcers to kill them as an example!”

“W—what are you telling me this for?”

The figure again ignored his question and screamed in a fierce rasp, laced with fire and rage. "And don't tell me that your wife Alexandria was involved in an 'unfortunate accident.' Your wife Alexandria was faithful and caring and only ever wanted the best for you! You sent her out purposefully on a chariot with a cracked axle, alone, driven by a wild-spirited horse! Then you burned her corpse and the evidence! You murdered her because you were unfaithful, and wanted to marry a new woman, Sellenera! You didn't love Alexandria at all!"

Fear struck King Aspenclius. “WHO ARE YOU?” 

The ghost laughed, her burned and melted features contorting in a twisted visage. "Don’t you recognize me? Don’t you recognize dear Alexandria?”

“W-w—why are you here?”

“To tell you that judgement day has arrived. To tell you that poetic justice has caught up to your lying, cheating, sinning, and murdering at last. You shall pay, Aspenclius. You shall meet your fate. Oh, you shall meet your fate." Aspenclius blinked and Alexandria was gone.

Just beyond where Alexandria had just stood, the brilliant lights became closer. Now he noticed that it was not a farm fire, because the lights were moving and they were climbing up the palace's hill. Aspenclius could see the lights were torches, and the mob carrying them was marching by the thousands. The fire roared and united with the mob's singular chant in a beautiful cacophony of smoldering rage. This unity rang out, shouting one clear word: