George the Miller
I was an intern at an old gristmill which was built in 1869, and the man who operates the mill is named George. I never got to meet him in person, nor do I know what he looks like. But I didn't really care at first.
You see, this gristmill I worked in is not just any gristmill, it is quite legendary and well-known, and according to urban legends, it is haunted by the victims (possibly children) of an unknown serial miller, who is presumed to be George, though there's no actual evidence or reasoning to back up this theory other than the fact that George is the only miller around here, not to mention he gets really cranky whenever children wander into the mill. But anyway, it's all just a bunch of silly stories and urban legends which are obviously untrue, merely meant to scare people. Creepypasta I guess.
This "George" character seems like a nice guy, so it's wrong of me to accuse him. Also, the reason we've never met before even though we work in the same mill is because I work on weekdays, while George occupies the mill during weekends. Now, before you call him a lazy-ass or anything, George is an old man, so give him a break. I'm a young adult, and quite an energetic one at that. So I think it's fair. George is my boss, by the way. We sometimes send each other emails. That's how he hired me, not in person, but through some email on Yahoo.
So, yeah, everything was going fine ever since I was hired. That is, until my fifth month on the job. I finally met George in person.
I met him on Monday, I drove to the mill as usual and when I got out of my car, I saw a guy standing beside the mill, smiling at me. He was somewhat bald, had some wrinkles, white teeth, and wore glasses.
"Hey, are you George?", I asked.
"Why yes, indeed! And you're Alex?"
"That's right. Nice to meet you. Why are you here anyway? Today's Monday..."
"Well, this may sound odd, but I'm feeling a little younger, even capable of working everyday in the weekdays. I almost feel as energetic as you usually are. I don't know, could be from sufficient exercise! From this day forth, I'll be working on weekdays, you can take the weekends. You've earned it. Also, don't worry, I'll pay you just as much as I usually do."
"Wow... Thanks! You sure about this?"
"Definitely."
"Alright then, I'll see you later, hopefully."
I drove back home while listening to some One Direction and jacking off to furry porn.
As I returned home, I rushed to the couch and grabbed the remote, in the mood for some television. I was eating Doritos as well, which George sent me via email (don't ask how).
As I came across the news channel however, I saw something interesting...
"Ominous unknown, miller still at large. Three more innocents were mercilessly eviscerated allegedly by an elderly, seemingly polite serial miller who works at an old, infamous gristmill which is theorized to be 'haunted by dead children', and although we once again have no proof at all that he has ever killed anyone in his life (which is what he claims), many people believe that he is the person responsible, and the police are convinced as well after trying to interrogate him and investigating the scene, despite finding no evidence whatsoever. They've jumped to a conclusion, and now they are planning to arrest the miller, however he may have one last trick up his sleeve, and even we don't know what he's up to now... Thanks for tuning in."
After that, suddenly some static pops up and the TV automatically closes after about 10 seconds. I always thought George was a nice guy and I didn't want to accuse him, but now I'm getting really suspicious, almost convinced. I contemplated quitting the job and find something else to do for a living, after I talk to George. Of course I brought a pistol with me, just in case. At this point, I knew that this guy's a serial miller.
I did some quick research on my phone, turns out, his full name is George Nigel Miller. His last name is... Miller? Wow. Not surprised. Anyway, I grabbed my keys, pistol, furry porn, and stormed into the car, then I drove to the mill.
As I stopped by the mill, no-one was there at first. I went inside. I searched the entire mill, but to no avail. However, during my search I had just discovered a secret entrance, a little hole. I crawled through with my slim-ass body, like, really, I'm a living skeleton that's too fucking spoopy for you. Anyway, as I continued to crawl through the hole, it got darker and darker, and it smelled worse and worse. At the end of the path was a large room, but I couldn't see shit, it was pitch dark, and it smelled fucking awful. Like, seriously bad, I gagged and held my nose. I began to sweat in fear, paranoid and worried that George might ambush me in this darkness. I couldn't find a light switch, the room was too damn big. I just walked through with my pistol in one hand, and my lucky furry porn in the other, while at the same time, masturbating with my porn-filled hand, hoping that some satisfaction would reduce my fear. Sadly, it didn't work. I was so scared that my hand was trembling strongly as I was jacking off, and the worst part is, I couldn't even see the porn!
Suddenly, I stopped, when I saw in the darkness ahead of me, two glowing dots, and a horrendous, malicious smile, right in front of me, and I heard heavy breathing coming from the dark figure.
"...George?!", I whispered softly. I couldn't speak up, I was petrified with fear.
The dark figure chuckled evilly. He snapped his fingers, turning on several lights in the room, and though the lights were dimly lit and it was still a bit dark, there was enough light for me to see what was surrounding me.
Several carcasses of children, some of them laying on the floor in a pool of blood, bones, and intestines, some hanging from the ceiling with their entrails hanging out and a bunch of blood and their other organs spilling out from their widely cut bodies, some fixed to the walls with all of their skin missing completely, and lots of blood on the walls which forms words such as "OH PLEASE I'M JUST A MILLER" and "I PRESENT TO YOU MY ART". I even saw ghosts all over the room, floating around... The ghosts of his victims! HOLY SHIT!! And then there was George, standing right in front of me, chuckling and smiling menacingly.
I always thought George was a handsome guy, but this smile of his terrified me, it was nothing like the smile he gave me when we first met today. This time his teeth were a deep yellow color, covered in blood and bits of green. Blood was pouring from his mouth as well. I assumed that he had just finished feasting on the organs of his victims. My assumption was correct, except he wasn't finished - he took out something from his pocket, a human heart, and bit on it. His chewing sickened me greatly, I literally vomited on the floor after looking into his mouth as he was chewing. I'm not going to get into details here on what his mouth looked like as he chewed the heart.
While the sick bastard was still chewing and smiling at me, I immediately pointed my pistol at him. But... Right before I pulled the trigger... He ripped his face right off. He revealed his true face. What I saw horrified me.
It was mostly pure white... Other than the paleness of his face, all I saw was the face of a monkey. A very cartoon-like monkey. The monkey was... George! Curious George! (PLOT TWIST!!) Oh my God... It all makes sense now...
All I can say now is, the Illuminati are responsible for all this. It's the only explanation.
"It's over for you, George Miller. Your evil ends here, permanently."
"George Miller...? I'm not just 'George Miller'... I'm George the Miller!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
While I was distracted, George the Miller punched me and knocked me onto one of the corpses.
"How... How could this be...?!", I cried.
I knew this was it. This was my end... I was cornered... George the Miller slowly approached me, still smiling and chewing the heart... But, just before my imminent and inevitable demise, he let out a phrase, a very short, simple phrase.
"GOT 2 SLIP."
I was confused by this phrase, but also terrified. I let out a scream, only to be drowned by George the Miller covering my mouth with his bloody, organ-covered hand. The blood and bits of organs went down my throat. I choked and vomited right onto George the Miller's hand, though that didn't make him move his hand away. The vomit just went back down my throat since George the Miller wouldn't take his hand off my mouth. I lost my pistol, I couldn't do anything. George the Miller then tied me up and dragged me to his mill. I mean, the device, not the place. Because we're already in a mill right now.
He was ready to crush and grind my head to pieces. I was ready to accept my fate and give in. He reiterated his phrase, but said it more slowly, and in a far creepier way...
"GOT... 2... SLIP..."
And then I'm died.
...Then EVIL PATRIXXX came and back-flipped 720 no-scoped 420 1337 666 shot George the Miller and he's died too. Meanwhile in hell, George the Miller rapes me for eternity, but the fact that the little fucker also got milled satisfies me.
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