ultraguy4 (2012-07-10 18:53:54)

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Marcus had just finished unpacking his belongings in his new house one quiet Friday afternoon. He looked around his lavishly furnished room. A comfortable bed rested in the corner, his mirror hung on the wall, and he had a beanbag chair against the east wall.
"Well then, what shall I do next? Hmm..." He had never given much thought as to what he'd do after he'd finished unpacking.
"I think I'll go out tonight. Do I look ok?" He checks in the mirror. He is greeted with a very untidy image. A splash of greasy, messy brown curls sprouts from the top of his head, covering his eyes. His chin had a stubbly 5'o clock shadow. His light tan skin and shirt were covered in sweat.
"Never mind then." Marcus realizes he never went into the cellar, even when he was looking at the house. The previous homeowner had showed him everything but the cellar. Every time Marcus had brought up he basement, the homeowner got nervous and tried to avert the subject to something else. Marcus decided to clean it up.
He slowly made his way down the creaky wooden steps. They were splintered and covered with cracks. He was glad he was wearing shoes. At the last step, he tripped. He smashed into a concrete floor, arm first.
"FFFFFUUUUUUUU- What the-" He rolled over and saw a strange looking liquid. It was too dark and thick to be water, but too runny to be oil. He took a closer look.
"Blood...? But how?" Marcus saw the basement for the first time. It was VERY old. The moldy brick wall was a dull grey. The concrete was grimy with stagnant water. The rusty pipes on the ceiling leaked water at a steady rate. It smelled like excretion and death. Marcus rose to his feet. He checked behind the stairs for anything that could've been bleeding.
"There's nothing there." He heads back upstairs. He pulls a 6-pack of beer out of the fridge and plops himself down in front of the TV. He pops a beer open.
"To another wasted Friday night." In no time, he finishes off the beers and passes out, drunk.
He wakes up at 1:00 AM to a horrible scream. Living alone, Marcus is very startled by the strange scream. He bolts around the house, but sees nothing. In a flash of lightning, he sees a mysterious face in the shadows. The face had two, piercing red eyes, a deformed bloody nose, and a mouth pulled into a grimace, exposing dull yellow teeth caked in a reddish brown. It remained only as long as the lightning had. Marcus couldn't believe what he just saw.
"It's... ok.... I'm probably just drunk," but his voice echoed fear and uncertainty. He finally fell back asleep an hour later. He woke up at 11:00 AM.
"Oh... must've a nightmare or something. Haven't slept for about 57 hours..." Marcus walks to his room and opens the door. He is instantly assaulted with a bloody severed arm swinging into his face. He screams in fear and faints.
Marcus wakes up to the sound of knocking. The severed arm is gone, but his is, too. Marcus stares at the bloody stump in pure horror. He immediately notices the large pool of crimson next to the stump.
"OH MY GOD!!!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME!!??" Marcus goes to the sound of knocking. It was coming from his own bed. He lifts the covers to see nothing. As he walks into the living room, he notices more blood. It dripped from the entrance to the attic. He runs outside. He gets into his car and drives off to the hospital.
2 weeks later, Marcus has a prothstetic arm, but still notices strange occurences. He finds pictures broken, empty food boxes, and even more blood and mutilated appendages. The climax of it all had been reached on one fateful night.
Marcus was lying in bed, unable to sleep due to the frightening events that had been transpiring. In another flash of lightning, he saw the face for the second time. He starts hyperventilating.
"What do you want from me!?" He looks at the floor. Crudely written in blood, it says two words: "Get out." Marcus moves out within a month.
While showing the house to potential buyers, he avoided talking about the basement if at all possible.
A month later, the new owner decides to check out the basement. She falls down the stairs, landing on her back on the hard concrete. She gets up and looks on the moldy floor.
"Blood? Hmm. That's strange." The haunted face dementedly smiles from the shadows.

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ultraguy4 (2012-07-15 18:29:20)

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Thanks! I'd written this a while ago, but nobody commented until then.

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arrggg (2012-07-17 04:04:13)

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Best creepypasta that I've seen here! -b

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