One Last Mistake
Our story begins on a bright, sunny afternoon in some unnamed big city. It begins with a robber that is not entirely sure of himself. He's at wit's end, after all. He's sick of his job, his life, and everything that he's become. He want's to do one last exciting thing and then run away from it all.
He picks an apartment complex in the rich part of the city. Somewhere he thinks he can make it big and then get away. He picks the apartment who's door is farthest away from the rest on it's hall. Our robber can't afford a gun, so he pulls out the steak knife he took from his kitchen and knocks on the door. A young woman answers and looks at him confused, like she was expecting someone else. He would have to do this quickly.
He shoves her into the apartment and follows her in. Fear fills her eyes and she asks him the strangest thing. "Are you a creepypasta?"
"What?" Our robber is confused. What the hell is she talking about? He realizes a little too late that this was the wrong apartment to try to rob. The doors to all other rooms but one were blocked by thick boards nailed to the door frames. He didn't even want to know where the unblocked door led. A small bed sat in the far corner of the room. Part of the floor had no carpet and was painted to look like a chalkboard with strange symbols drawn on it in chalk. A ring of black candles outline the drawing. Several boxes labeled as different colors and sizes of candles are strewn around the room.
What had he gotten himself into?
"Why didn't it work this time?!" The woman yelled in frustration. She wasn't concerned about the man standing in her home holding a knife. "Maybe I didn't draw it right. Again."
She then sat in front of an outdated computer reading through a document she had opened after sitting down. The robber edged towards the door in fright. It was obvious that this woman was insane.
"You'll die if you go out there." Was all she said as she turned the printer on, making a copy of the document.
"What do you mean?" He asked, even though he knew he should have ran out the door and never looked back.
"There are things out there. Creatures that want to eat you. I'm trying to get one to come to me so I can kill it. I'm not entirely sure what it is yet, but this ritual tells how to kill it when you get it to come." She paused for a moment. "I just haven't figured out how to get it to come here yet or what to do with it when it's dead."
"You're nuts!" By this point our robber is heading for the door, scared out of his mind. She's faster, though. She pulls a gun from beside the computer and points it at him. He freezes in his tracks at the sound of the hammer being pulled back.
"I think I know how to get it here now. You're going to do the ritual for me. It doesn't seem to want to listen to me." She walks towards him with the paper in hand. "You're going to read this and do it right or I'll sacrifice you to it. I didn't want it to come to that, but I'll do it if I have to." She smiles sweetly at him. She smiles like she had just said the most innocent thing in the world.
Once the ritual is completed to her liking, the woman let's him get away. He runs for the door and reaches out to open it. A loud bang comes from the other side of the door. Our robber-turned-hostage stops in mid-reach. It happens again, but louder this time. He backs away from the door in horror and looks back at the woman. She has an excited look on her face.
"It worked!" She squeals as the door frame shudders at another loud bang.
Soon the drywall is cracking and falling. Our robber is on the other side of the room trying to peel the boards off of a doorway. They refuse to move even a little. The woman is standing in front to the door laughing like an excited child. Silver dagger in hand.
"I can't believe it!" She laughs. "It worked! It really worked!"
The door comes down. The robber screams, but doesn't look back. The woman is yelling behind him, mad that her dagger didn't kill the creature. Her frustration turns into screams of terror. It stops suddenly.
Our robber can now feel it breathing down his neck. He's crying and begging a non-existent god not to let him die. The breathing turns into a dark laugh. "You wanted to do one last thing before you got out."
A month later the police arrive at the apartment building. Neighbors were complaining about smelling something dead at the end of their hall, but no one could seem to get the door open. The door is broken down. Two bodies are found at first. One torn to shreds. It's the young woman. The other seemed to have died mid scream from an unknown cause. Upon opening the door to the bathroom, countless more bodies are found. Piled from floor to ceiling.
The other rooms are opened up and more bodies are found. Most are in the same shape as the body of the young woman. All are in various stages of decomposition. In the weeks to follow the investigation was given up on. No killer was ever found.
You see, you should never perform a ritual posted on a site filled with stories of strange creatures. They could be after you next. In fact, I think I see one behind you.
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