That Depressed Old Lady: Difference between revisions
m
no edit summary
m (→top: replaced: <comments /> → {{Comments}}) |
Thermometer (talk | contribs) mNo edit summary |
||
Line 1:
Forever…
She looked so depressed she sucked all the happiness from me, so I wanted to slap her in the neck, but when I tried to, she reversed and DDT'd me to the floor. I thought something wasn't right, but I couldn't point my finger at it, so I got up. I asked why was she so depressed. She whispered that she'd seen "the ungodly face of evil" and that "no one is safe".
Next thing I know, she gave me a piece of paper, and on it, the following message:
"*very creepy coordinates, use your imagination. Hint: it involved a 3*"
Oh, yeah, the paper was made of blood. (Originality FTW)
▲<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I noticed that the coordinates were written with a black pen, and it seemed like the author was in a hurry. </span></p>
I went home, entered Google Maps, and searched the sequence of numbers and letters, only to find a street a few blocks away from the county fair.
I'd soon find out.
▲<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I took my bike and carried on his wayward. "All this…", I thought, "It doesn't make sense… What was that old lady talking about? Why did she give me the coordinates? Why me?". </span></p>
When I arrived at my destination, night had fallen upon me, and it was fucking scary, because darkness.
The street was… How should I put this...
Empty.
It looked abandoned, therefore, spooky, but I put my bike down and went inside.
▲<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">No houses, no street lamps, nothing. I thought I ended up in the wrong street, and got prepared to be raped by some asshole hiding in a ditch, when I saw this 18<sup>th</sup> century house. </span></p>
▲<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">The door felt like it was made of Legos, so I Leroy Jenkins'd inside, and took a look around: dusty, old furniture in the middle of a cobweb infested room and some torture instruments lying around in the floor. </span></p>
▲<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I explored the division, and found another door. This time, there was a hallway behind it. When I went through, the door shut itself. At this point, I felt something wasn't right. I opened it again. Turned around. Slam. Opened it. Turned. Slam. Opened. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; mso-fareast-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman"; color:black;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Slowly t</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">urned, but this quickly looking back. Slam. Missed it. Opened. Tu- Oh, fuck it. </span></p>
"I'm waiting for you... Dik Dik Van Dik…"
▲<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">There was only one door in the end of the hallway. When I got close, blood started to come out beneath it.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; mso-fareast-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman"; color:black;mso-ansi-language:EN-US"> I thought it was a glitch, so I ignored it.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-bidi-font-family: "TimesNewRoman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US"> But when I got even closer, the blood started to consume the door, so I screamed. I wasn't going to touch that. No, no old lady would tell me what to do. I curled into a ball and a demon invaded my thoughts. For some reason. </span></p>
"How do you know my name?"
But before he could answer me, he disappeared. Apparently, I was in a coma for four years. Somehow, my phone battery didn't run out so I could conveniently see the date through the calendar of my Nokia.
I was still in the same place, which was weird, and the door was still in front of me.
I twisted the knob.
And there it was.
The old lady. Wait, wha-
"Oh! You came! What took you so long?"
After that day, though…
▲<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">After that, she made tea, and we talked about our pets. She was really nice and anticlimactic, and even offered to call a cab. All she wanted was some help cutting the lawn, and seeing I was full of packs, I was the perfect candidate. My family might've thought I was dead for a while so I called them, and it was all very emotional and shit, and I went home. </span></p>
My phone never ran out of battery.
[[Category:Trollpasta]]▼
[[Category:WHAT A TWIST!]]
[[Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck]]
Line 71 ⟶ 68:
[[Category:Well, that was anticlimactic.]]
[[Category:Demins and Debbils]]
▲[[Category:Trollpasta]]
{{Comments}}
|