Our In-Flight Movie is Insane

📅 Published on April 12, 2022

“Our In-Flight Movie is Insane”

Written by Kyle Harrison
Edited by Craig Groshek and Seth Paul
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

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).

🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available

ESTIMATED READING TIME — 6 minutes

Rating: 6.75/10. From 4 votes.
Please wait...

This isn’t really happening.

This feels like some fucking Twilight Zone shit.

I think the plane I’m on is going to crash.

Maybe it should, though.  Maybe it would be better if we all died rather than let whatever the hell is aboard spread elsewhere.

Sorry.  Let me explain.  If I’m going to die, the least I can do is leave an accurate record for the authorities to find.  Not like the black box will tell the full story.

Less than 7 hours ago, I boarded this flight alongside probably 60 other passengers going from New York City to London.  No, I’m not going to give you my info or anything like that.  Listen, I don’t want to be found.  This flight needs to sink to the bottom of the Atlantic and never be seen again.

Why?  Because I think we’ve been attacked by a fucking demon.

Yeah, you heard right.

It didn’t start until we were already about an hour from NYC, and the attendant was going through the usual safety measures.  The man next to me – I think he said his name was Robert – was yawning and turning his phone on airplane mode.  It reminded me to do the same, and as I did so, the attendant recommended I hook up to the WiFi so that I could still use it even with airplane mode on.

“Plus, if you have Bluetooth, you can watch our in-flight movie from the comfort of your mobile device,” she explained.  She showed me a QR code, and I went ahead and scanned it.  I figured it would be better than scrolling through Tiktok for the next six hours.

A few seconds later, a link popped up with a warning about epilepsy and other conditions that would be affected by the film, and I put my AirPods in and leaned back to enjoy.

I have to admit that I didn’t really bother with checking to see what the film was about or even who starred in it, but it didn’t take long before I was fully immersed in the movie.

It was a schlocky B-movie with wannabe actors, all dressed up like they were on their way to kill Satan himself at some stupid frat house.  The music was loud, the script was obnoxious, but for some reason, I just couldn’t stop watching.  Well, at first, anyway.

About fifteen minutes into the film, we hit some turbulence which caused my phone to mess up, and I took the headphones off, signaling the attendant to complain.

That was when I noticed that everyone else on the flight was also watching the campy classic movie, completely engrossed in how awful it was.

There is one thing, however, that bothered me.  It wasn’t just that they were paying attention to the movie.  It was noticeable immediately that the other passengers seemed to be mesmerized by it.

Have you ever spotted a person that seemed to be daydreaming or dozing off?  That was the look that was on the faces of everyone on this flight.  Not a single person was even blinking. They were fixated on the strange movie that was playing across all of their screens.

“Is there a problem, sir?” the attendant asked.  “I need to use the restroom,” I said.

“Give it a few more moments.  The captain has not allowed for any seat belts to come off yet,” she answered.

I frowned, wondering why that was as I sat there and waited, glancing toward the screen next to me.  Robert’s mouth was actually agape as if he couldn’t close it.

It disturbed me, and I couldn’t help but nudge him a tad to get him to snap out of it.  Like he was in a trance.

But he didn’t respond.

Frustrated, I pulled the Bluetooth headphones off and snapped my fingers in his face.  Robert looked at me for a moment, confused and lost.

“Where am I?” he muttered.  He wasn’t joking.  I could tell from his blank expression that he seemed to have no idea he was on a plane.

“What the hell were you watching anyway?” I asked as I looked at the screen.  It didn’t show the same campy movie I had seen.  This was far more disturbing with imagery so shocking I’m not even sure I feel comfortable recollecting it.  But there was a lot of blood.  And perhaps I should have mentioned this earlier, but I work in the medical field, and I could tell this was the real thing.

Worse yet, the bodies on the screen looked freshly killed too.

And then I saw this wild look in Rob’s eyes as he unbuckled and moved toward the attendant.

“Sir, you need to sit-”

Robert headbutted her hard, knocking the girl down as he went toward the main cafe area, seemingly searching for something.  The other attendants were moving up to try and intercept him.  My first thought was maybe he was some kind of terrorist.

I watched as it all happened in what seemed like slow motion.  Robert grabbed the pitcher of water on the attendant’s tray and smashed it on the ground, shards of glass going everywhere. Then he got down on all fours and grabbed up the sharpest pieces, swiping them to keep the flight staff from getting close.

“Sir, if you calm down, you can tell us what you need,” one staff member muttered.

Instead of providing a response, I watched as the crazed passenger slit his own throat with the broken glass, uttering some strange, indecipherable garble as he fell to the ground and began to writhe.

Abruptly other passengers stopped their movies and got up to help.  I heard a few women scream, and it seemed like the nightmare was over.

But instead, I soon realized it was just getting started.

The passengers that had gone to help instead turned on the attendants, bashing their heads into the floors and licking up the blood like rabid dogs.  They had abruptly shifted to animalistic personalities the moment they stopped watching the film, I realized.

I unbuckled and grabbed my phone, heading toward second class.  I tried immediately to use the airplane phone to contact the surface, but all I got was more strange buzzing noises.  It was like the entire plane had lost its mind.

And as I entered second class, I soon realized it had to be the in-flight movie.

Back here they didn’t have the Bluetooth connections and had to watch it on an overhead screen.  I could hear strange noises from the movie and walked a few feet to get a glimpse of the scene.

There was this strange red creature devouring the heart of a small child.  Ripping it out the way that you might pick apart a cupcake.  And it was chanting some evil spell, and all of the passengers were actually smiling.  Some were laughing.  For a moment, I, too, was caught in the hypnotic stare of the demon as I kept watching it attack the child.  Then I felt someone push me down on the floor, and they covered my eyes before I could even feel the wind knock out of my lungs.

“Listen to me; I’m one of the attendants.  I have a password you can use to access my Reddit account and social media.  Just post this everywhere you can and send help!” A voice whispered in my ears.

I felt something being pushed into the palm of my hand, and then I was shoved toward third class…away from the movie and toward the only normal people left on the flight.

I half considered walking back toward the strange phenomena, but then I saw the movie was coming to an end.  And the passengers were now looking toward each other with predatory eyes.

This was about to be a bloodbath, I realized.

Immediately they jumped from their seats, clawing at each other and snarling.  I closed the curtain and demanded that the attendant help me block the entrance.

“What the fuck is happening??” I screamed.

“You think I know?” They asked as they did what they could with the cart to keep the cannibalistic passengers at bay.  But I knew that would only hold them for a short moment.

“We need to land,” I told them.

“We can’t.  We are far enough across the Atlantic that turning around would be impossible.  We have to keep going,” they said.

“Find somewhere isolated.  Somewhere with no people.  Tell the captain we have a crisis,” I said.

“I can call the cockpit, but it’s sealed.  They are safe there.  I’m not sure if they will believe you,” the admitted as they reached for the phone.

Some part of me felt like they were stalling.  As if the crew were somehow involved in whatever the hell was going on.  So I didn’t wait to see what the result was.  Instead, I pushed my way down the aisle to the bathroom.

Locking myself inside, I used the passcode I had been given and got online to see if there were any news anywhere about this strange occurrence.

I realized immediately not only was there no report but worse yet, there didn’t seem to be any more record of our flight leaving NYC.  It was like we had been erased from existence.

I felt that sinking feeling in my chest as I looked in the bathroom mirror.  It looked like an evil version of myself was smiling back.

I smashed it up and placed my foot on the door as I heard the crazed passengers rip each other limb from limb.

About ten minutes later, I heard on the intercom that the captain was going to make an emergency landing.  But that was soon replaced by the demonic noises as well.

The entire plane is filled with the hum of their satanic songs.  I think…I think this is how I will die.

I have to get to the cockpit.  I have to try and crash this plane before it reaches London. Otherwise, this curse is going to spread.  Wish me luck.  I’m finishing this and logging off now.

Rating: 6.75/10. From 4 votes.
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🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available


Written by Kyle Harrison
Edited by Craig Groshek and Seth Paul
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

🔔 More stories from author: Kyle Harrison


Publisher's Notes: N/A

Author's Notes: N/A

More Stories from Author Kyle Harrison:

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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).

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