16 Sep Document1
“Document1”
Written by J.C. Barnard Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/ACopyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
⏰ ESTIMATED READING TIME — 8 minutes
The glow of the screen has beckoned me and I have answered its call. It’s the middle of the night and I am compelled to walk downstairs, still rubbing sleep from my eyes, and sit down at my desk. The screen is on, a writing program up and ready. A voice in the back of my mind giving me one single order: “Start typing, do not stop.” So I start. And I type, fingers punching key after key. The mouse is missing, so I can’t exit the document. All I know is that I have to keep going, keep typing whatever comes up, whatever is on my mind. Because I don’t know what will happen if I slow down or stop. It doesn’t matter what I type as long as words keep appearing and the whole thing gets longer and glonger.
Oh wait I made a typo, let’s fix that. NO no nono nonono nononono no no no, a second command: “Do not backtrack. Keep moving forward.” mistakes are a part of the game. Its game. Whatever it is. I have a feeling that something terrible will happen if I try and go back. I am glued to my seat, forbade to step away from the sharp glow of the screen. It compels me to write and write and keep writing, about anything. It can be about anything, what I had for dinner last night, how badly I hate my job, why i couldn’t go to sleep tonight, why my parents think i’m a disappointment. Oh wow, it just autocorrected disappointment, I spelled it with two S’s accidentally. Ha! You see? I’m not alone in this. Modern technology can still help me with the small stuff, i’m nto completely helpless oh for fucks sake I misspelled that one. Guess technology can only get you so far, eh? Fingers keep tapping, tapping, taping at my keyboard, never stopping, never ceasing.
How long will this go on for? Can I steal a look at my phone for the time, or is that against the rules as well. A resounding “No” fills my head. Guess that answers my question. It was a little past four in the moring when I woke up and found the door to my office cracked open, the blue light of my computer screen spilling out into the hallway. I had to check and see if my son was up past his bedtime, trying to sneak in a little screen time under my radar. Not the case. Not the case at all. A little past four int he morning, hopefully that means dawn isn’t toof ar away and I can be done with this silly charade. My alarm goes off at six, work starts at eight. No rest for the wicked, no rest for those who are currently wasting precious minutes that they could be spending getting some shuteye. A man needs his rest, my friends. As mush as he needs water and food and air to breath.
That’s it, I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to stop typing verys oon. I’m slowing down from about 120 words per minute to about 60 wpm. Now I’m getting close to a mere 30, getting slower and slower, my thoughts are easily organisable at this rate, my mind is clearer. Down now to 20, getting closer and closer to stopping this stupid game and then when all is said and done, I will get up from my chair, march right upstairs and climb under the sheets anf fall asleep with my loving wife in my arms. Going to stop in three two
aa hand a hand cold and clammy scaly and hot and cold and strong as a vice on my shoulder ica nt look around or elas it will kill me itl kill me kill me kill me it is black to the touch to the touch to the touch i am but a vessel for its bidding i have no will of my own oh what have i down to deserve this? A warning a clear warning that i cannot disobey i must keep tying and writing and typing and punching keys and more keys what does it want from me what do you want from me i know yuou can understand me you son of a bitch your in my head its in my head and you were once in my head you told me what you wanted i wnt you to write and keep writing do no stop do not falter you cannot look away you cannot look me in the eye and see what monstrosity has its god forsaken hand on your shoulder you cannot backtrack yo must keep going and going and going or else your life is forfeit or else what you love most is forfeit what do you want and what are you and what are you and what are you.
I need a break my wrists are on fire, my fingers numb to the touch my eyes burn but i cannot blink i cannot blink icannot look away from the icy blue screen it demand my attention it demands that i keep typing but to what end to what end to what end. And what are the stipulations of this game, how slow can i type before it penalizes me how much leeway can i carner so that i may organize my thoughts and quit making these tupid fcugkin typos im fan editor fucks sake i do this for a living you are impeding on my on e true calling and yo dney me one of my most basic and esstnial job functions.
The grip tightens on my shoulder a voice telling me do not unravel do not unravel yet there will be time soon but not yet you must right. What of my voice can i talk – you cannot. what if i scream – you will die where you sit. can i whisper – you may whisper but no more and you may do so sparingly. I muster the courage nd mutter under my breath some fun expletives that rhyme with fuck and cunt. Good god it growled at me hot breath inches from my ear dripping saliva tip tapping tapping spilling onto the floor i can smell its breath rank and disgusting the smell of roadkill and the stink of melted pennies all mixed into one.
What other stipulations can i get away with what other gray areas to the rules can i test within this fucked up game? Can i test its patience bfore it lashes out? What if i just press one key over and over again? Mmmmmmmm can i just go on typing the letter m until the end of time, what do you say to that smart guy didn’t thank fo that did you? Le’ts try another letter for fun. Ppppppppppppppppppuck fuck fuck son of a bithc fuckin shit sucking dicks god it bruns it hurns hurts son of a bitch cut of my inkie finger it haooend so fast one second i was toing then a swift movement to my right and my finger went flying it hit the screen left a stainon the lower right corner right where the clock is god why didnt i just check the clock beforehand too distracted want my ohone want my hone need to call for helo god it hurts god the ain a claw hot as an oven caterized it at the stem how am i suoosed to tyo like this you cuking oyschoath i bet your mother tried to drown you as a child you demon spawn i know you can understand what im tyming i know you can i know you can i know you can fuck fuck fuck fuck i need ice god i need ice its hand is still attached to my shoulder grioing tighter and tighter hand like a vice hand like a crank that gets stronger and stronger and tighter and tighter al;kdrfljasdlsa;lkg;aslyou dislocated it it just popp out of the socket you mongrel you fucking bafoon god it jstu came losose from the socket hanging off the side i van hardkuy u se it imj swuit hinh to judy on hand riujt now tyryinbg ty ojtioo up wi onbe handf oin a fuylkqwerty kryboiard uis imopissibkle what ik am supppisred to do what do i do wi th this mess how am isuppoisesd tylo type lie this?
Healing healing healing healing healing healing light a healing light on my shoulder it feels good it feels like home it tastes like fresh cookies out the oven the thing is healing my shoulder, a single pop and its back in its socket, my finger is still gone but at least i can type with both hands again. Oh god i can type again, thats all it wants is for me to type. So long as i can keep this game going, its kept satisfied.
Hot beastly breath falling down the nape of my neck it is still behind me staring waiting for me to make another mistake another misstep to falter to cease to stop to dare it to punish me again. It is taunting, tormenting, loving every second of this game as if it lives for this as if its getting paid to do this, as if this is its job. Fuck me, ill need to get to work in the morning. How am i going to explain my missing finger, the deadline will have to be set back a few days boss wont like that Carol wont like that the rest of the team wont like that my insurance wont like that when i inevitably have to see a doctor for this.
Cant you see you hellspawn, youre making a lot of trouble for me all for what so you can watch and laugh as i pound away at my desk. Is this supposed to be divine retribution what is the lesson huh, i get it i spend too much time at the office im a salaryman fucking sue me, whats another weekend away from home whats another missed baseball game when deadlines are screaming down my neck every month therell be another recital in the future another birthday party another milestone to celebrate is it the end of the world if i miss it this one time can you blame a guy like me just trying to make ends meet. I get it i promise you i get it i need to spend more time with my kid, spend a few more precious evenings with the wife, go on a few more dates, catch a few ball games with my beautiful child, life is too short to be making money endlessly. There lesson learned, can i go to bed now.
A growl, a growl deep and guttural, ill have to take it as an emphatic no. why why why why why why why let me go let me rest let me sleep let me end this torment torment torment fuck fuck fuck will you let me go my eyes are dropping i cant feel my hands the smell is unbearable it reeks its too much too much too much let me go let me out out out.
A gray light, gradual but firm from the window behind me, yes dawn is breaking six o clock is nearly here my alarm will go off and the spell will break, it will go off and ill awake from this nightmare. The time the time is almost here and the light from outside is glancing off my screen and i can just make out a tall dark shadow standing behind me. Matted mangy fur with tinges of silver and red, teeth yellow and pointed to fine edges a tongue spotted black and forked like a snake. Hot air jettisons from its snout and dark horns curl up from its head. Sticking to the top of those horns are two saggy piles displayed like hunting trophies mouths hung agape eyes gouged i can see the slight visage of a woman and young boy.
No fuck no fuck no fuck fuck you you kille dhtm you killed htmem i canotln dhbeoldive htis isnlt real you ncait do this tio me you kille dhtm while i was down here distracted distract by the glow the glow of the csrreen it becokedn i snawersd it calle di snaweredd my wife my child my son my life my life my family you you you you yooyuhooyooiaosdfs light break even through the trees is it six yet isi ti six yet tiell me tlel ettell me the window i must to the window the window please help me forgive me the window the window the win
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
Written by J.C. Barnard Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/A🔔 More stories from author: J.C. Barnard
Publisher's Notes: N/A Author's Notes: N/AMore Stories from Author J.C. Barnard:
Related Stories:
You Might Also Enjoy:
Recommended Reading:
Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).