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  •  I suddenly jumped out of my bed in a cold sweat. I don't know why I'm scared, I didn't even have a bad dream. So cold. I realize the air around me shouldnt be this cold in summer, even at night time. Looking around me I see where I actually am. It looks like a locker room, but there are only 10 lockers strewn about the walls surrounding me. The room is dark, with grimy walls, a few lockers and me in a single bed in the middle of it. Stepping out of the bed my feet touch the ground...so cold.

     I notice a door and instantly run over to it. Shaking the handle like hell I can tell its locked. Next backing away from the doors I decide to look through the lockers to find anything. Honestly anything, I just need  something to make me feel safe. That's when a barely audible drip reaches my ear. Spinning around I see one of the lockers has a very thin puncture in it in it with liquid dripping out. The hole was small thin and long, you almost couldn't see it if you didn't try. As I walked closer to the locker I see what it is, Blood

     Opening the locker I see a girl, looks like my age, 14, eyes wide open. and slender hole in her chest and a small picture. The picture seems to show people related to her all dead the same fateful way died. Despair. Looking around I realize only 4 lockers are this way.

    In the next is a teenager boy, about 17. A scowling face and the same slender hole. His photo shows a masked gunman and what looks like his parents dead in an old warehouse, leaking blood. A similar photo but it gives off a different aura. Anger. The next is another boy around 18, with a simple smile. The picture in his hands show presumably his parents fighting, though the father doesn't even look closely related to him. Resilience

    As i'm about to close it, I hear a deafening screech from across the door, then footsteps. 

    THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP

    Without thinking I run into a locker on the very right of the room close it and sink all the way to the ground. My hands brush across something, my family and even some of my friends, tied up still alive, and a small pocket knife. Clutching it I realize I might be able to fight whatever is running towards me, I can save them, and opportunity. Confidence



    Click.



    The door unlocks and opens, dread rushes down my spine, But I ignore it to the best of my ability. I clutch the knife in  my hand waiting.



    Knock-Knock



    Knock-Knock



    Knock-Knock



    The knocking starts on the opposite side of the room. 



    Then it starts to get louder



    KNOCK-KNOCK



    Faster



    KNOCK-KNOCK

    KNOCK-KNOCK



    Louder



    KNOCK-KNOCK

    KNOCK-KNOCK



    Why did it stop. What's happening … why did it have to be me. I clutch the knife and right as i'm about to burst out of the locker. Then I'm dead, my blood spills to the floor. The blade went right through my spine I didnt even get to feel the pain.



    The ritual is one step closer.

      Loading editor
    • James,

      Welcome to the Writer's Workshop. I'm glad you came here.

      Your pasta is all BOLD. That makes it tough to read. Note the three quotes right before the text at the top. That's what causes it. Those extra spaces also make it harder to follow.

      Your protagonist dies in the end, so who is writing the story?

      Any good fiction is based on emotions. I see gore, but no feelings. Gore is a bore. In a Creepypasta, you start out with a feeling of things being wrong, then you progress in creepiness, and then finally that horror slams you. That didn't happen here. We're into dripping blood by the end of the second paragraph. Strange, random people who are dead on lockers with holes in them.

      Does the guy try to avoid this? Does he run away from the lockers? Does he try to get the cops or other help? No, he decides to stop whatever killed half a dozen people by using a small knife from his pocket. I am sorry, but that isn't credible.

      The whole thing seems like a nightmare that you wrote down, a bunch of disorganized elements kind of lumped together without a realistic connection.

        Loading editor
    • First why is it in bold? Somewhat pointless. 

      Your tenses are jumping, probably also punctuation and grammar overall need some work. 

      If your narrator dies before the story ended, who wrote it? It's unrealistic to the point where it cannot be really taken seriously. 

      I think you should use a third person all knowing narrator here, or turn this into a dream based story. You can obviously keep the dream at the beginning, as a "dream within a dream". 



      The story itself doesn't have much going on for it, someone wakes up in a locker room; doesn't feel too weird about this. Doesn't try to do anything about the situation that requires a "search an escape" course of action. Why? The corpses don't cause any real reaction. How? Suddenly the narrator is killed. Why? Again, there isn't much that actually happens here. I don't care for this, I have no reason to. Give me a reason to care, make me care about the narrator/protagonist. 

      Everything is all about the emotion you induce in the reader.

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    • A FANDOM user
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