ANTIPASTA.EXE

Okay, you probably ain't gonna believe this, but I can't save it only to myself anymore.

I wanted to play some old Pokémon video-games, and that was why I was on eBay. I don't know why I didn't simply get some Gameboy ROM online. I must be an idiot or something, but, hey, you can't say that me, ok? I'VE GOT A TRAGIC CHILDHOOD!!!!111

I bought this really poorly cared Pokémon cartridge instead of some good stuff for whatever reason. One month later (yeah, ya know, these fucking post offices) a box was delivered on my front door. I opened it and, inside, it was the cartridge. But it wasn't alone: a CD was at the bottom, with black marker written "NOSTALGICRANDOMGAME.EXE", with a note attached that said:

DO NOT YOU DARE TO PLAY THIS GAME OR IT WILL COME FOR YOU TOO THAT CD IS HAUNTED BY SOME SERIOUS AND SCARY SPIRIT OF A DEAD ABUSED PSYCHO IMMORTAL KID WHO ENJOYS K-POP AND THAT ASIAN STUFF YA KNOW DON'T PLAY IT OR YOU WILL END UP JUST LIKE ME I'M GOING TO END MY LIFE

PS: YOUR ARE NEXT!!11

After reading that horrible note, I threw the CD on the trash bin. I haven't even ordered that shit!

I took a deeper look on the Pokémon cartridge. It had no label and had really strange color: glowing greenish purple with orange stripes. With a shining silver marker, the old owner wrote "POKÉMON BLOOD & GORY EDITION" and drew a hyper-unrealistic (I mean, it's hard to be fucking Da Vinci when your canvas it's the size of a Gameboy cartridge) image of EVIL PATRIXXX. I thought "Well, that's some weird shit, but fuck it, man, I paid for it" and put it on the Gameboy.

The title screen was different than any usual Pokémon game. First of all, the name on the title was "Benny Suffocated" (btw, if that was an made-up story - it's not, I swear, I was skeptical too, but now I believe it - Benny it's an original character not related with any other one on the creepypasta community).

I ain't stupid, ok? Nobody in the world would see that title screen and move on playing. That wasn't no glitch, it was a hackROM I didn't wanted, just like that fucking CD!

I went to my computer to email the game's seller about that. His username was 666SatanCockSucker, what didn't scared me at all. I mean, at least he has a name. I'd be scared if he was an anonymous dude, 'cause that's Reddit and 4Chan stuff and that creep the shit outta me.

He said he felt sorry about the misunderstanding and, to apologize, he would send me a DVD collection of the best episodes of SpongeBob SquarePants, which he had access for being a Nickelodeon intern.

"Shut up, dude, no way!" I replied, totally not believing his bullshit "If you're really an intern, send something exclusively RAD!"

He said "okay" and, another month later, a box was at my door. I opened, grab the DVD and was ready to put it inside my computer, when the terrible truth hit: all the so-called "lost episodes" of SpongeBob inside that DVD wasn't lost anymore, because someone had to find to PUT'EM ON THE DISC.

I broke that shit with a 200" knife on my kitchen. Then I went to the bathroom and looked at myself on the mirror, crying for all the time I've lost on these last months...

Time. Yeah, time.

TIME. TIME IT'S IMPORTANT, YA KNOW? YOUR TIME IS UP!!1111

EVERYONE'S TIME IS UP BECAUSE I'M PISSED AND WHEN A NON-STRONG COMPLETELY ORDINARY PERSON GETS PISSED OH BOOOOOOOOOOOOY THAT MEANS YOUR TIME IS UP!!!!!111

I STABBED MY OWN EYE LIKE A TOTAL MORON MANIAC, BECAUSE BEING MIND-BROKEN IT'S COOL, AND THEN SHOVED A FUCKING CLOCK ON MY EMPTY EYE-HOLE BECAUSO YA KNOW TIME AND SHIT.

My mom saw me and ran to her room. I thought she would take my father's gun, but. since she's not a poorly-written character of a poorly-written story about some overrated emo albino, she called a psychiatrist.

I passed out because of the pain and woke up a the hospital. The doctor said what you've been thinking Bob? that shove a clock inside my eye-hole soon after stab it isn't very healthy. He could save me of the possible infections, though.

And, since that day, I never played... I mean, I never watched... Huh...

Well, since that day, I never shoved clocks on my eye-hole again.

Comments • 4

Loading comments...