A friend recently told me that she's seen a strange man in 1930's style pinstripe suit in her dreams a few times. Each time he's appeared, he told her someone was going to die. I became fascinated with this figure she's seen. I tried to get more information from her, but she didn't seem to want to talk about it.
Taking the basic information she gave me, I added my own touches, and created The Messenger. He appears in your dreams, and tells you that you won't be seeing someone ever again. After you wake up, you learn that person has died. As grief overtakes you, The Messenger appears in real life, and touches you. You feel weak after ward, like he took a part of you with him. He might appear a few times to you as you lose people close to you, or he may never appear again. As you'll see in this first story, he doesn't seem that malevolent. That seemingly changes in later stories, or does it?
So here is my first attempt at writing a Creepypasta. Hope you like it.
By Gerry Saracco
I'm standing in my father's room.
I hear the rain outside.
I feel a presence behind me, but am afraid to turn around.
A male voice says "I'm sorry". It sounds distorted and full of static.
"Why?" I ask, still afraid to turn around.
"Because your father won't be coming home"
I shake my head; I don't believe him.
"How do you know?" My mouth feels dry as I force the words out.
"Because I'm the messenger"
Heart pounding in my chest, I turn to face the man. He's wearing a white suit with black pinstripes, with matching gloves, shoes and a fedora. His body wavers in and out, like a glitch in a film.
He has no face. I open my mouth to scream....
The sound of my cell phone buzzing under the pillow wakes me. It's my sister. Hands trembling, I answer.
"The hospital called; dad's gone"
The phone slips from my hand, and falls to the floor. I get up, and walk into the bathroom. I hear my sister's voice faintly over the phone.
"Derek? Are you there? Hello?"
I turn the light on, then the faucet. Body trembling, I splash water on my face. I gaze at myself in the mirror. The lights flicker as I splash more water on my face. I look up again, and he's behind me. I feel his hand on my shoulder. Terrified, I turn to face him, but no one is there.
I feel weak; I barely make it back to the bed. Ignoring my phone, I fall onto the mattress, and drift off again.
I hope he's not still waiting for me in my dreams......