What Shelia Wants

📅 Published on June 22, 2022

“What Shelia Wants”

Written by Corpse Child
Edited by Craig Groshek
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


Rating: 10.00/10. From 2 votes.
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I just wanted to make her happy, that’s all.  I just wanted to make her happy with me again. Was that so wrong?  I mean, what’d I do to deserve this?

Okay, so maybe I cheated.  But I felt horrible for it and wanted to make it up to her.  Sheila, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry, okay; I’m fucking sorry, just please let me go!

God, what am I supposed to do?

A couple of nights ago, while at a party, I was going to town on Clarissa, the dirty little secret side piece I mentioned before.  I remember how dull it felt, and I almost couldn’t finish.  She hadn’t come, either, even after 12 straight minutes.  Eventually, I managed to make it work before I called it quits that night and headed home.

I was actually getting kind of sick of the old routine; sneaking out just about every Friday night and running around with Clarissa at parties.  It was fun for a while (there, I fucking said it), but it didn’t feel right anymore.  We’d been doing it for over three months by then, and I guess I was finally growing a bit of a conscience near the end, you know.

And of course, I knew Shelia wasn’t buying my lame-ass “Got caught up at work late again” stories anymore.  Hell, looking back, I wouldn’t be surprised if she never believed that lie, to begin with.  Either way, I knew by the way she’d grown distant with me after about the 5th or 6th time that she was just about done with me.

Make no mistake.  I LOVED her.  I still do.  I always will.  But…I don’t know.  I guess I just…needed a bit more.  I know how fucked up that sounds, and believe me, whether or not I actually survive this, I know my place in Hell is booked for that.  Nevertheless, I love Shelia, and I hope she can realize this somewhere in my heart.

So anyway, that was the night I finally broke things off with Clarissa for good.  I decided I needed to be a man and come clean with my wife.  Even if she already knew, I knew it was gonna continue eating away at me unless I got it out.  The way I figured, she’d at least respect my apology a little more, finding it to be a bit more genuine if I just came out and fuckin’ said it. When I got home, I found her on the couch, the lights dim.  Alright, Ted, you can do this.  Just spit it out…

“Look, Honey.  I’ve been fooling around behind your back with another woman.”  Her face was stone cold, numb, when I said this.  I stood frozen, waiting for her to do or say something.  The silence hung in the air for a solid moment, the two of us locked in a staring contest.

Granted, I wasn’t sure what I expected her to do or say .  Would she cry, maybe tell me she hated me and that I broke her heart?  Maybe she’d retaliate by telling me she’d been fucking another guy as well?  I wasn’t sure whether to duck and cover, bracing for her to grab the nearest blunt object and go full throttle on me, or scream like a banshee at me till her throat gave out.

What was she gonna do?  Well, let me tell you exactly what she did: nothing.  No curses, no screaming, no tears, nothing.  She just stared at me numbly, her lovely amber eyes boring straight through me, through my soul.

I think this scared me more than any other reactions could have.  I wasn’t expecting this; silence.  Because of that, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do or say.  However, this hurt me because, deep down, her silence was more deafening than her screaming; she hated me.

“Shelia, I love you.  I’m so sorry!”  My voice began to crack as I said this.  Tears started stinging my eyes.  These were tears of complete shame and disgust with myself.  Still, she just stood, staring.

“Shelia, please, I’m sorry!”  Nothing.  She did not move.  Motionless.  Still.  Numb.

“Shelia?” I whimpered, “Please… baby say something!”  Silence.  My heart rate began spiking. “PLEASE!  SAY SOMETHING, GODDAMN IT!”

I grabbed her shoulders and was about to shake her when I felt her hands slowly grab mine. Her hands were as gentle as they always were, yet, somehow, I could feel the malice emanating from them as she gently removed my hands from around her shoulders.

“Don’t…” she said in a voice as monotone as an answering machine.  Her face hadn’t changed. She still stared straight through me.  “Don’t worry about it.  I don’t even care anymore.”

“What?  What do you—”

“I don’t care, Ted.  I don’t care anymore about your apology, your excuses, your affair.  You couldn’t come clean on the multiple times I gave you, so I gave up.”

I was speechless.  I scrambled to find something, anything to say.  To tell her that she was wrong.  To tell her that things would be different, having ditched Clarissa for good.  But how could I?  She was right; I’d had ample opportunities to fess up and instead continued to lie through my teeth to her face so I could keep doing it.

“Shelia, baby I—“

“I said I don’t care anymore, and I mean it.”  She then turned and walked into our room.  I followed after her.

“Wait, Shelia!” I cried.  “Please, l-let me make it up to you.”  She didn’t respond.  I saw her begin zipping up her old suitcase with all of her clothes inside.  “What is this?” I asked, despite knowing good and damn well what was going on.

“I can’t be here anymore, Ted.  This is a house of lies.  I’m moving back in with my mother.”  My heart stopped.  She zipped up the last suitcase and started toward the door when I stopped her.

“Wait, please; give me one more chance!” I begged.

“I’ve given you multiple chances.  I’m done.  End of story.”  She attempted to push past me.  I stayed firm, blocking the doorway.

“Look, please don’t go!  I-I’ll do anything, just please, don’t go!” She looked into my eyes again, letting go of the suitcases.  I had her attention.

“’Anything?’” she asked, her voice remaining as dead as before.

“Anything you want, I promise.  Whatever you want from me or want me to do, baby, it’s yours!” She just stood for a solid minute, squinting, her eyes piercing into me like she was weighing the sincerity of my statement with her eyes.  Her blank face returned, and she said, turning and climbing into bed, “We’ll see.  I’m tired but can’t sleep with a cheating bastard lying next to me.”

“Of course,” I said, trying to hold in my breath of relief.  I still had a chance to fix what’s been broken.  “I’ll sleep on the couch as long as—”

“Oh no,” she piped up, “I don’t want you in this house with me tonight.”  I swallowed hard.

“O-of course, hon,” I said reluctantly.  I then turned and left the room.  I then walked out and decided to camp in the car for the night.  My car is a small 2006 Altima, which meant that trying to get comfortable in it was a friggin’ nightmare in itself.  What was worse was that being in the summertime and all, it felt like it was 95 degrees or better, despite it being nighttime.

I couldn’t turn on the AC, either, or I’d risk running out of the battery.  It was unpleasant, sure, but if it was what she wanted, well…

I didn’t get much sleep that night.  The sun took its sweet time coming back up, too, which didn’t help.  Nevertheless, I managed to power through and catch maybe 45 minutes to an hour’s worth of sleep before 6 AM rolled around, bringing the first hints of dawn.  Part of me was relieved.  I thought, maybe she’d at least let me back in the house now, right?  I’d go back in the house, we’d talk it over, and I don’t know, maybe I’d just spend a few nights on the couch or something, right?

HA!  How fuckin’ naive.  No, instead, when I got out of the car and tried to go inside, the door was locked.  My key wasn’t working, either.  Somehow, it was like something was lodged in the keyhole on the other side.  I stood there jerking on the handle like a maniac for about another minute when my phone buzzed.

I looked to see it was a text from Shelia.

  • ”Don’t even think about it. I don’t want you in the same house with me.” My eyes went wide.  I looked up to our bedroom to see Shelia standing there, staring down at me.  I started typing back.
  • ”Okay…but I’d like to talk 2 U about this.”

I looked up to see her begin typing again.

  • ”I’m not ready to talk just yet. I’m not sure what I want from you yet, if anything.” My heart sank again, reading those last two words.  “If anything…”  Those two words stung me more than I ever thought they could.  Desperately, I started typing back.
  • ”I understand. Just let me know when you’re ready to talk.  As I said, I’ll do anything you want.  I just wanna start over.  I love you.”

A minute later, my phone buzzed again with a reply.

  • “We’ll see.”

That was the last thing that was said before she drew the curtains and walked away from the window.  I sighed.  Part of me wanted to cry.  I really wanted to make things work here.  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  “Just calm down, Ted.  Let her think it over.”

With that, I decided to get back in my car and drive around to look for a place to stay until Shelia was ready to talk again (or at least let me in the house again — whichever came first, I suppose).  I decided to get a room at the hotel just a few streets down.  It wasn’t cheap, but I guess that was really only a small price to pay in the end, given what I’d done.

Hell, it’s a HELL OF A lot smaller price to pay than the situation I’m in now… (Goddamn it, Shelia, I’M SORRY!)

It was that night that I got a text from her.

  • “Did you mean what you said?”

My heart was instantly sent racing.

  • “Yes, of course. I love you.  I’ve always loved you, I promise!  I meant it, too, when I say that it eats me inside, knowing that I’ve hurt you.”
  • “I meant about you saying you’d do ‘Whatever I wanted.’ Do you mean that?”

I paused for a moment.  I wasn’t sure how to proceed.  Of course, I wanted to shoot back with, “Yes, dear, ANYTHING immediately!”  But, for whatever reason, something, I don’t know; just some feeling, told me something was just…off somehow.

  • “Do you, Ted?”

This jolted my focus again.  I began typing.

  • “Yes, Shelia. I meant that.  I love you, and I want to make things work.  Can we talk about this in person?”

She didn’t respond after this, though.  That night was spent with me pacing the hotel room, constantly checking my phone (despite my ringer being on).  My head and heart both felt like they were in a race with one another, seeing which one could make me go dizzy first with how rapidly they both spun in a chaotic spiral.

“Why wouldn’t she answer?  What was she talking about?  ‘Did I mean it?’ What was she planning?  What does she want from me?”

That, I think, was probably what tore me up most.  Just like before, I wasn’t sure what to expect from her here.  We’d been married for almost two years, and never had I seen her like this; so cold and bitter.  Yeah, I get it; I fucked up — BAD.  But that just made this all the more confusing to me.  Especially with how she asked if I’d “do anything.”

What was she trying to do here?  Even cycling through every conceivable possibility, I couldn’t settle on any definitive answer to that question.  Obviously, because of this, the idea of trying to sleep that night was a pipe dream.  I stayed glued to my phone all through the night, anticipating a text or anything from Shelia.  But nothing came.

It wasn’t until that morning that I was abruptly jolted to attention by the buzz of a text message. I swiped my phone in one fluid motion to see what it was.  It was a message from Clarissa.

  • “Hey…so, I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.” My mind was quickly overloading with all new questions (on top of the already damn innumerable present) about why Clarissa was hitting me up. I texted back that I didn’t, that we were done, before asking her why she still had my number.
  • “Well, then why does it say on your Facebook that you’re planning on a date with me to the drive-in theatre in an hour?”

Now I was thrown.  I was about to call her bullshit, telling her to cut it out with whatever game she was trying to play with me here and lose my number, when she shot back with a screencap of a Facebook post.  It was a post from me, from my profile, that had her tagged, reading, “Can’t wait to see you there, baby doll!” Beside this were a flirt and a kissy face.

I was frozen.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  I had to go into my Facebook to see if this was real.  Sure as hell, it was.  But how?

Up till right then, I’d not even fucking been on Facebook.  I hadn’t even glimpsed it.  FAR less posted!  Yet, there it was, posted to my feed only about two hours before.

  • “I…I didn’t post that…”
  • “Uh huh…SURE you didn’t. Just like you ‘didn’t wanna have me no more…’” She followed this with a wink emoji and a kiss.
  • “Damn it, I’m serious! I don’t know what’s happening here, but I DIDN’T write that!  I don’t wanna see you anymore.  I wanna be with my wife!  Now, lose my number and don’t text or call me again!”

She responded with a flirty face.

  • “Okay, okay, Tiger, I get it. Playin’ hard to get, huh?  We’ll see about that…” I was about to block her number when something odd struck me about that last message.  “We’ll see about that…” I wasn’t sure why at that moment, but it sounded ominous to me.
  • “See about what?”

She didn’t answer after that, though.  I looked again at the Facebook post.  “That CAN’T be right.  Something’s up, I know it…” I thought.

Exactly what the “something” was, though, at the time, was, of course, just as much as good a guess as anyone else.  All I knew was that nothing made sense here.  Why was Clarissa thinking I wanted to go on a date with her to the old drive-in after I’d made it BRUTALLY clear to her that I was done with fooling around on my wife with her?

Then I realized something else, why there?  That old spot doesn’t even have the drive-in anymore.  It’s just a vacant lot with only the old equipment shed at the back behind where the screen used to be, having sat long abandoned for a couple of years now.  “Why would she think I wanted to take her there?”

My phone buzzed again.  This time, it was a text from Shelia.

  • “Come by the house in two hours. I’ve thought about it, and I think I’m ready to talk to you about this. ;)”

I wanted to jump, both out of joy but also out of my skin in fear.  What should I tell her about my “date” with Clarissa?  I mean, I didn’t make that post, but what good was telling her that?  She wouldn’t believe that.  I know that’s my own damn fault for having lied to her so many times before, but damn it, I was over that now; I was over Clarissa.  “Maybe she doesn’t know…”

I closed my eyes.  “Just calm down, calm down.  She said she wants to give you one last shot.” I took a deep breath, “Just keep your head down, give her what she wants and forget Clarissa.”

With that, I got dressed and headed out.  I stopped by the flower shop and grabbed a bouquet of flowers, specifically requesting Carnations and Roses, her favorites.  When I got to the house, about 20 minutes early, I shot her a text that I was outside, waiting.  Two seconds later, the phone buzzed.

  • “One minute…”
  • “No problem. Take your time, hon. <3”

I followed this with a snap of the flowers.  A short preview to show that I was serious; I wanted to start over with her.  She didn’t reply.

About another ten minutes rolled by, and nothing was going on.  I thought about wanting to try texting her again, see if everything was still alright.  I quickly thought better of it, though.  “Be patient.  Remember, this is about HER…”

Only another minute or so more, I saw the house’s front door open.  Shelia stepped out onto the front porch, looking absolutely drop-dead fucking BEAUTIFUL!  I’m talking.  She looked like she did when she was eighteen in her senior year of high school when we’d first met.  Tight blue tank top, skinny jeans, but no makeup.  She never needed any; not back then, and sure as hell not now.  She looked at me, smiling.

My heart started cutting backflips in my chest.  Hope wasn’t lost.  There was still a chance.  I could save my marriage!

“You look beautiful, honey,” I said, excited.  She giggled.  I tried to put my arm around her but stopped when she recoiled away from me.  For a second, her smile fell and was replaced with one of disapproval.  I retracted back myself.  We still weren’t at “hugging level” yet.

I held my hand up and lowered my head.  “My bad.” “Forgiven.  Now, let’s go.  I’ve got the perfect place in mind.” “Where?”  Her look of disapproval returned.

“That’s not for you to worry your head about.  You just drive.  I’ll lead the way.” She told me to return from the right and head toward the downtown road.  We began heading downtown in relative silence, broken only whenever Shelia gave me another direction to turn.  Not that I didn’t want to talk — far from it.  At the same time, though, something gave me the impression she wouldn’t reciprocate the feeling.  I just bowed my head, conceding, before turning the engine over and backing out of the driveway.

“Turn here and stop,” she said, pointing to the right turn branching off from the main part of the downtown area.  I did so, leading us to where else but the empty lot where the old drive-in theatre used to be.  I was confused, obviously, but even more than this, I was nervous.  It didn’t help, either, that Clarissa’s Honda was parked out front.  “What the hell?  What’s SHE doing here?!”

I could feel sweat forming in bullets from my forehead and dropping like rain.  My heart rate was through the roof.  What was I gonna do?  What’s Shelia gonna say when Clarissa sees me and tries to get all lovey-dovey with me?  Why does Shelia wanna come HERE?!

I turned to her, trying not to make it not look so obvious that something didn’t feel right to me.  I didn’t want her to lose her patience.  Plus, I was banking on her not having seen the mysterious Facebook post (that I DIDN’T create in the first place).  I needed this to work with Shelia and me, and this would’ve fucked things up every which way from Sunday.

She looked back at me, smiling.  I noticed she looked like she was genuinely excited about whatever was going on, whatever she had planned.  This only further confused me.  What could she be so excited for?  There was literally nothing there—just the old abandoned shed.  Still smiling, she turned and started getting out of the car.  “Come on, follow me.”

“Hey, wait!” I said, gently placing my hand on her shoulder.  She stopped, turning back to me. “What’s going on?  How come you wanted to come here?  There’s nothing around.”

“Just trust me and follow.”

I stayed seated, unmoving.  I didn’t feel right getting out of the car.  Something just felt off.  Way off.  Her smile started to fall once again.  “You said ‘anything,’ remember?”

That made me sigh and relent.  I unbuckled my seat belt and followed her towards the shed. About halfway there, I watched her pull what looked to be a blindfold out of her purse.  I stopped walking.  “Babe, what’s that for?”

She turned and smiled slyly at me, adding an equally sly wink.  It was the same one she used to use when we’d decide to “spice things up” in the bedroom.  “What do you think?  We haven’t had any real fun in a while.” She walked up and ran her hands gently up my chest.  “If we’re gonna start over, Teddy bear, why not go wild with it?”

Despite how nice it felt for her to touch me again like this, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right here.  “O-okay…” I replied, chuckling nervously.  “But, uh… Why here, in the middle of nowhere?  How come we couldn’t have just done this at home; you know, in OUR bed?”

She sighed.  “First, until you make things up to me, that bed isn’t ‘ours.’  Second, why not here? Don’t you remember?  That Friday night, last day of senior year?  This was where we first did it.”

That actually hit me hard for a moment.  She was right.  This was our first spot, and I’d actually forgotten.  I couldn’t help but feel like an even bigger jackass than I already no doubt was.

“You’re right,” I said guiltily.

She rose and gave me a quick yet sensuous peck on the cheek before leaning into my ear and whispering in a smooth, balmy whisper, “I know.  Trust me, Teddy, I’ll always know more than you’ll ever think I do.  I’ve always known how naughty you’d been, and I know how to teach you never to do it again.”  She then followed this by playfully biting my earlobe.

Admittedly, this did start to excite me a bit.  Clarissa never played like that.  I’d forgotten how good she was at that.

This still didn’t shake the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, though.  She then handed me the blindfold and told me to put it on.  I obeyed, and she took me by the hand and led me the rest of the way to the shed.  I couldn’t see anything, but I eventually heard the large metal door of the shed loudly creaking open.  I felt Shelia let go of my hand and say, “Okay, now take the blindfold off.”

I did, and what I saw next was enough to make my heart stop dead in my chest.  In front of me, illuminated by the light from the open doorway, was Clarissa, tied to a chair in the middle of the room with cuts, gashes, and bruises covering nearly every square inch of her face.  She looked up at me, her eyes glazed and pitiful, pathetic.  “What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, frozen in shock.

My shock was broken, however, when I felt something clock me over the back of my head.  I was instantly knocked out cold.  I awoke, don’t even bother asking me how much later it was to have frigid, ice-cold water thrown in my face.  My head was swimming, throbbing and aching worse than any migraine I’d ever had before.  I saw that I was tied to a chair now, too.  In front of me, Clarissa now stood, stripped down to her bra and underwear, clutching a knife in one hand.  Behind her was Shelia, staring at me with that same cold expression she wore when I told her that night about the affair.

I groaned weakly.  “Wh-What the fuck?”  Shelia stepped forward.

“This is how you’re gonna make it up to me, Ted.  You like playing rough, and you loved messing around with her.  Well, here you go.  Now you’ll play as rough as you want.”

Clarissa took a step forward, raising up the knife.  Her eyes were also wide and afraid.  I started squirming against my restraints.  “What the fuck are you doing, Shelia?  Look, just let us go!”

She walked up and delivered a sharp smack across my left cheek that stung.  “I’m giving you what you deserve, asshole!  You wanted to fool around behind my back with this bitch, and then lie to my fucking face every time about it.  And I just let it go, didn’t I?”

I didn’t answer at first, instead trying fruitlessly to wriggle out of the ropes.  She smacked me across the face again, harder this time.  “DIDN’T I?!”

“Yes!” I shouted, groaning in pain.

“I let you have your little fun and rip my fucking heart in half.  Well, now, I’m gonna get what I want, have some of my fun.”  She grinned slyly again.  This time, though, it looked a lot less seductive and a HELL of a lot more psychotic.  She then stroked my cheek and said, “I wanna see how much you love me.  Tell me, Teddy bear, did you mean it when you said ‘anything?’”

I looked at her, silently pleading like a dog for her to stop all of this and let me and Clarissa go.  I could see in her eyes that she was enjoying every second of seeing me like that, completely at her mercy.  The devious way in which her smile grew confirmed this.

“Y-yes…” I muttered.  She cupped her hand to her ear, teasing like she didn’t hear me.  “Yes, okay?!  I said it!  I love you, Shelia, and yes, I’ll do anything you want, okay?  Let’s just go home, please?!”

She giggled and looked over to Clarissa, who stood holding the knife, frightened.  “Prove it.  I want you to kill her for me.” My blood froze.

“N-no.  No, Shelia, I can’t kill her.”

“So you were lying?”

“No.  But Shelia, this is insane!  Look, I’m sorry, okay?  I am.  I’m sorry for being a piece of shit. You deserve better, but damn it, I’m not killing Clarissa!” Her smile vanished, and she untied the ropes holding me.  Before I could try and run for the door, however, I felt Shelia crack a metal rod over my kneecap, instantly breaking my leg and causing me to fall to the ground, writhing in agony.

She bent down to me and whispered, “Then you can do it for yourself since that’s the only person you really care about.  You want out, you wanna live; kill her and send me a pic of the body.  Oh, and try being cute and calling the cops, and I’ll make damn sure they never find you.” She held up her phone, turned on a live feed inside the shed and said, “And like I told you, I’ll know if you’re being naughty.”  She then thrust my phone into my chest before turning and walking out.  “I’ll be waiting, ‘sweetheart,’” she said as she closed the giant metal door, locking the two of us inside.

Clarissa stood quivering.  I continued writhing on the ground, groaning and clutching my leg. Suddenly, Clarissa started walking towards me, knife in hand.  I couldn’t move.  I was defenseless, completely at her mercy.  She came right on top of me.  I closed my eyes.  This was it.  I was screwed.


I opened my eyes to see that she had dropped the knife.  She then crumpled to the ground and started crying softly.  “What…what are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know.  The doors are locked, and we can’t call for help.”  I winced and yelped in pain. The pain was shooting from my leg all throughout my body.  Clarissa knelt over me.

“Here,” she said, sniffling, “let me see your leg.” She gently rolled up my pant leg.  My kneecap was shown to be completely broken, protruding against my skin at an unnatural angle.  “Oh my god, are you okay?!”

I didn’t pay attention to her.  Instead, my eyes were focused on the knife lying on the ground, less than a foot away from me.  She began frantically looking around the room.  “There’s gotta be a key somewhere here.  Hang on.”  She got up and started pacing around, looking on every corner for a key.  A key that I knew wasn’t anywhere in there.

There was only one ‘key’ to get out.  “H-Hey, come here…” I said, groaning.  She didn’t hear me at first.  While she still wasn’t looking, I reached out and grabbed the knife.  “Clarissa, I found it. I found the key.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, just… Come over here and get it so you can unlock the door.  I can’t get up.”  She stopped and ran over to me.  She bent down and started looking around.

“Where am I–” She got no further.  The next and last thing I’d hear out of Clarissa was the sounds of her choking and gasping desperately for air.  Her eyes bugged out at me.  Looking into her eyes, I could see two emotions mixing: betrayal and horror.

“I-I-I’m sorry…”  Soon, she stopped gasping and collapsed, lifeless.  I couldn’t help but scream out in anguish at this.  I couldn’t believe what I’d just done.  I’d just killed somebody.  Not just that, but somebody that, even though they’d helped in destroying my marriage, I still actually cared about.  As Shelia said, the worst part was that it was just for my own selfish gain.  But what else was I supposed to do?

I said I’d do anything…

I’m afraid, though, that it may have been for nothing.  Not knowing what else to do, I snapped a picture of Clarissa and sent it to Shelia, but she didn’t reply.  This was three days ago.  I’m still trapped in here with no way out and unable to even move or call for help.  All of this, and I still haven’t heard a single fucking word from her.

I’m scared!  I’m gonna fucking die here, aren’t I?!  You see this, Shelia, you happy now?!  I’M SORRY, GODDAMN IT!  Can I please be let out?

God…anybody…I’ll do whatever you want.  Just let me out!

Rating: 10.00/10. From 2 votes.
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🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available

Written by Corpse Child
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

🔔 More stories from author: Corpse Child

Publisher's Notes: N/A

Author's Notes: N/A

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Long Dead Before Dying

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