Hey CYS! I recently wrote part 1 of a series and I wanted y'alls review on it. I know I could improve on it a ton. I posted it on creepypasta xyz but I could always update it. My few problems with the story after some self reflection is that I feel as if the character isn't that creative, it's a cliche govermnent horror story, and it could have more context. So I figured I would turn to you guys for help, given that most of you are better writers. After reading, if you can give me some input on the story on what I could do to make it better or any ideas on what should happened next. Enough of me, here's the story:
I believe in monsters. I didn't before the summer of 2016, but now I do. I don't just believe in monsters. I have seen them. I have touched them. I've killed some. And I was hired to do so. I won't sugarcoat my job. It's not fun or thrilling in any sense. It's never boring, I guess. But it eventually takes a toll on your mind, body, and soul. I remember my first assignment. It was the summer of 2016...
That was the summer where I dropped out of college to work at my father’s farm. I was inside of the house feeding the dog when they came. My father was at the grocery store four miles out, so I had the house to myself. They came in a shiny black van that pulled onto the gravel driveway. The van door opened and three men stepped out, wearing black and white suits that just screamed: GOVERNMENT. Or at least that’s what I thought they were at the time. I… am not so sure now. One was white with no hair. One was African-American. The other was also a white bald dude. I almost laughed at how this seemed like something out of a cheesy movie. I was half expecting them to tell me that a UFO crashed in my yard or something like that. Instead, they offered me a job.
“Do you want a higher paying job?” one of the bald white guys asked. Just like that. No context. Just: “Do you want a higher paying job?”. I was still in my pajamas and all I could do was stand there and stare, confused. The man repeated the question with a bit of annoyance.
“What kind of job?” I asked. I should have said no. I should have told the guy that I wasn’t interested. But the thing was… I was interested. It’s not often something like this happens to guys like me. Nobodies. College dropouts. I had no special skills. I wouldn’t say I am a good person or a bad one. I was nobody. Maybe that was why they asked me. I was… am expendable. The man said I would track down fugitives and be given the training to do so. I would be paid a generous amount. I couldn’t refuse the offer. Who would? Especially if they are a nobody like me. It made me feel important. Special. Our desire to have a purpose in life, to feel special, will be our downfall. I would swear my life on it, although that doesn’t really have much value anyway. I said yes.
And here I am. I even got my own house with the money. I had to sign a paper I barely read and it probably wouldn’t have made much sense. Later, I realized I was signing my life over to them. They now own me. My body. My life. It didn’t matter to me. I couldn’t get my head around the money I would be getting and I couldn’t get my head around the fact that I wasn’t going to have a boring life after all. Ha. That was one thing I wasn’t wrong about. I was then put through training. Hand to hand combat, Long ranged weapons, short ranged weapons, basic survival skills. You would think that I would be about to be dropped in a war zone with the stuff they were teaching me. But I didn’t question it and now I realized why I was taught the things I did. Anyway, that isn’t the important part of my story. I just wanted you to know a little about me.
My first assignment was Sebastian Algorez. All they said was that he escaped (they didn’t say from where and I learned not to ask questions) three weeks ago and intel has spotted him currently located hiding in a small fishing town on the coast of Oregon. They gave me the address. I had one question that I figured was safe to ask.
“How do I bring him back?”
The man gave me a look and said the words that stopped me cold.
See, I had it in my head that I would bring each “fugitive” back to their prison or whatever. I mean, yeah, I figured I was going to have to defend myself but I never thought I was going to have to kill someone out of self defense. I guess I should’ve known from the rifle training I was given. And I knew I couldn’t walk out. In the back of my head, I had a feeling that if I refused to kill this man, then that would be the last time I would refuse anything at all, if you catch my drift. I could do nothing except get in my car. My hands were shaking as I turned on the car. I was not okay with killing someone. I didn’t know if I could kill him. I spent the rest of the drive thinking about this. I knew that I had to, if I wanted to live. Besides, the man was a criminal. He was probably a serial killer or something. Or something. There was one more thing that bothered me. The man who briefed me told me to “aim for the head”. I don’t know why that bothered me more than the fact that I had to kill him.
A few hours later, I pulled into Depoe Bay, Oregon. I parked my car at a hotel. I didn’t need to track him, I already knew where he was, I just needed to kill him without anyone finding out. I didn’t have a time limit, which was helpful, and it took all week to get the nerve to kill him. I first had to find him. Once I did that, I tried to learn his daily routine. Sebastian had a thin frame and long black hair that went down past his shoulders. He had pale skin, really pale skin, and looked like there was something wrong about him. Most people on the streets tended to avoid him, suddenly deciding that perhaps the other side of the sidewalk had better scenery whenever they saw him. The fact that this guy looked like a murderer made me feel slightly better knowing that I had to kill him but not much.
Sebastian went to work as a janitor for the town’s only office building at 9pm. He was home from work around midnight. It was easy to break into his house. I picked the lock to the front door and made sure to lock it behind it. Careful not to disturb any objects in the house, I made my way to the spare bedroom and hid in the closet. The only weapon I had was a silenced SIG P226 and a combat knife that was holstered on the belt around my waist. They also gave me a few more knick knacks, like a device to call for backup and a flash bang. I felt a little over armed, but carried it on me anyway. I waited until midnight, almost dying of boredom and fear, when I heard his front door unlock. I heard him walk downstairs. For some reason, I felt that he was aware of my presence and would burst into the spare bedroom at any second with a knife and cut me into little pieces. I had to remind myself that I was the one with a gun.I heard commotion in the kitchen. I was tense. I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to. Finally, I heard him make his way upstairs. The footsteps paused outside of the spare room and for a moment, I was convinced he knew I was here. He knew. I swear, he knew. I almost wet myself. It’s like the role of hunter and prey had been switched on me and I knew it.
The footsteps finally carried on and I heard him do his nighttime ritual, then go to bed. I waited until I heard his heavy breathing from the adjacent room. I screwed the silencer on my pistol and I quietly opened the door and crept out of the room. His bedroom was cracked open. I slowly, and quietly, opened it. The room was dark and I could make out something under the covers. I crept towards the shape where the heaving breathing came from. I could make out Sebastian’s face, looking at me. I froze up, then realized his eyes were closed. I relaxed and raised the pistol to his head. I don’t know why I didn’t immediately pull the trigger. I let it hover there for a good ten seconds. Was I really going to kill another human being? In the sleep? I hesitated. That was my mistake.
Faster than I could react, Sebastian’s eyes open (were they completely black or was that just my brain?) and he threw the blankets he had on top of him over me. I squeezed the trigger, then threw the blanket off of me. I probably should have done that in reverse, but I was panicking. Once I got the blanket off of me, I realized that he wasn’t on the bed or in the room. He had escaped. I cursed. The higher ups are going to be furious. I turned around to leave the room and felt something wet drip from the ceiling and onto my neck. I looked up and let out a shout at what I saw. There, on the ceiling, was Sebastian, his hands and feet on the ceiling as he hung from it in a crab walk position. It seemed so… inhuman. I freaked and took a step back. He wasn’t looking at me, just hanging from the ceiling, staring at the wall. Then, his head did a 360 to look right at me. I let out a scream and I ran out of the room, running as fast as I ever had and I heard him drop onto the floor behind me. What was that thing? What have I gotten myself into?
I ran out of the room and shut the door behind me without looking back. I ran into the hallway and heard something slam into the door. Then, a thud as something hit the ground of the hallway. Once I reached the end of the hall, I flicked on the lights and turned around. The door was knocked off of its hinges and Seb- no not Sebastian. That thing was standing at the end of the hallway, twitching. The thing’s long black hair covered its face. I raised my gun and sent three bullets into its chest. Its blood left splatters as the bullets exited out of its back. The blood was black in color. It took a step back from the shots and then he- no, it started to laugh. It was more of a cackle and it raised its head, letting the hair uncover its face.
Whatever that thing was, it was smiling at me. Its skin was pure white in the light. Liquid poured from the holes in its chest, black like liquid night, and it just laughed. It pointed a finger at me, which now looked more like a claw to me… or was that just my imagination?
“It’s not very nice to break into someone’s house and shoot them. Where are your manners?” The things voiced sounded like multiple children were speaking at once. The sound tore at my sanity. To this day, thinking of its voice sends chills down my spine. It was almost too… innocent. Like it was unaware of the abomination it was. I sent two more bullets into it. One hit its where I thought its heart should be and the other hit its arm. It just took a few more steps back with only a look you get when you get stung by a wasp, not having two pieces of metal pierce its body. Not lead bullets, in case you were wondering. Those don’t work.The bullets for the gun I was given were silver coated and blessed, whatever that means. I got that bit of information later on. The creature laughed again, then started to sprint towards me, still laughing. I somehow remembered the advice I was given by the man who briefed me. I adjust my aim for its head.
I fired the whole clip at its head. And missed every single one. Before you judge me, I was never a good shot. And have you ever tried shooting a malevolent entity as it rushed towards you? That’s what I thought. So shut the hell up. The creature slammed me into the wall, the frail thing showing more strength than I thought it was capable of. The gun flew out of my hand, not that it mattered, since it was out of bullets. Then it grabbed me by my neck and threw me down the stairs. I was airborne for two seconds, although it felt like forever. I landed on my left arm and I heard the snap before I felt it. Then, excruciating pain shot up my arm. I screamed once more, this time in pain. I saw the bone sticking out of my arm and almost passed out from the pain. I cradled it with my right hand as I scooted myself on my back into the living room. The creature jumped down the whole set of stairs and landed quietly on its feet. It turned towards me. I let out a whimper as it took a step towards me. I started to scoot more frantically, not caring where I was going, as long as I was away from it.
It then did something impossible. It jumped onto the ceiling and stuck, defying gravity like I saw back in the bedroom. It began to crawl towards me in a crab walk with surprising speed. I scooted much faster, but within a few seconds, It was crawling over me. It slowed its pace and looked down at me with those… god those pure black eyes. I swear when I saw him in public, he did not have any of these features. It was moving the same pace as my scooting, all while smiling at me the whole time. His smile was too wide. Black liquid leaked from its smiling mouth and dripped onto me. Then, in one swift motion, it turned its body so that the chest and head facing towards me while his hands and feet stayed onto the ceiling. It reached a hand down with incredible speed and picked me up by my shirt. I hung there, face to face with the horror that will forever haunt me.
“What are you?” I whimpered. The thing smiled even more, which I didn’t think was possible. It brought me closer so that its mouth was by my right ear. I could smell its breath, full of rot and decay. It whispered three horrible words, pausing between each to take in a wheezy breath. Those words haunt me to this day.
Then, it lowered me and opened its mouth. I thought it was going to take a chunk out of my throat or face, but that was not what it had planned. Instead, black tentacles resembling those of an octopus’ came out of his mouth. Three, to be exact. Each suction cup was lined with teeth. The thing was making gagging and choking sounds as the tentacles came out of his mouth and attached themselves around the back of my head. I felt little tiny pinches as the small teeth sunk in. This is it, I thought. Day one of the job and I was already a dead man. I then remembered I had a combat knife on my belt. I felt around my belt for the knife. I grasped the handle. I had only seconds before the thing pulled me towards its mouth. I took the knife and jammed it into the side of it’s head with all my strength. Black liquid spurted out of the room and the thing dropped me.
I landed on my arm and blacked out from the pain. When I came to, I was lying on my back. It was quiet beside the hum of the refrigerator. Too quiet. I turned my head to the side and looked into the now normal eyes of the creature. Sebastian’s eyes. I let out a shout and scooted away from it. From its lifeless corpse. It laid in a puddle of that black stuff, which was all over me. I sat there for a bit and collected my thoughts. This would be my chance to run and never look back. Maybe the government or company or whatever they were would let me go. I laughed out loud. I am not that stupid. I wouldn't make it far with my broken arm. With my one free hand, I pulled out the device from my pocket that had one button and one purpose: to call The Backup. I should’ve pressed the button when I was thrown down the stairs, but my head was too muddled with the horrors I saw.
I had to wait for what felt like an hour. I thought I was going to eventually bleed out but eventually men in unmarked bulletproof vests and assault rifles poured into the house. I was put into a gurney and carried into the hospital. As I was being carried out, I saw men in white hazmat suits make their way into the house, probably to dispose of the body. Everything went into a blur. I couldn’t unsee what I saw. I was not surprised though. I knew that there was more to the job than just killing a fugitive. I had a feeling since those men pulled into my driveway. I knew. Yet I pushed that feeling into the back of my head. I was startled from my thoughts when a man opened the door to the room I was staying in. It was the African-American guy that was there when I was offered the job. Would it be racist to call him Mr. Black in honor of that cartoon I used to watch as a child? Perhaps. Let me know in the comments. I mean, I would never say that to his face of course but rather for story telling purposes. Anyway, I digress. He walked in.
“What was that thing?” I croaked as he sat down in a chair besides my hospital bed. My arm was in a cast and I was hooked up to multiple machines monitoring my heart rate and… something else. The man looked as if he had this conversation before.
“A fugitive,” he said simply.
“That is not a fucking fugitive!” I shouted. The man’s demeanor changed. He leaned forward and I saw anger in his eyes. I knew I just made a mistake. I waited for him to pull out a gun and pop me for that outburst but it never happened. But I swear that he was going to do that just from the look in his eyes.
“That was a fugitive and that is what they will remain to you. I came here to let you know that once your arm heals, we have a new assignment. This one is a little more challenging. Don’t ever raise your voice at me and don’t ever, ever question me again. Got it?”
I could only nod. He got up and began to leave the room. Before he left, I asked him one more question. Something I had to know. Something that was eating me up from the inside.
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
The man gave me a sad look that answered my question.
No, I didn’t.
That is my story. I’ll be sure to tell you about it, if you want. I don’t know if you believe me or care. Leave it in the comments, I guess. My next briefing is tomorrow. I don't know what horrors I have to hunt next. I don't know if I can survive another. Back in that house, I got lucky. I am not sure if I will be so lucky next time. All I know is this: what I experienced back in that house wasn't my first time I have encountered monsters. Sebastian's actions were entirely in self defense. I was the intruder. He wasn't causing any harm, there was no reason to kill it. I have seen monsters before that. And I now work for them.
[End Of Part One]
The thing about cliche stories is that they're everywhere, so don't beat yourself up too bad about that. When it comes to cliches, the number one thing you need to be concerned with is dialogue. As long as your idea is executed well, it can and will almost certainly borrow ideas from other things. This was an interesting and engaging story. The only thing that I noticed that might've disturbed the flow was the interruptions from the main character's consciousness during tense moments, and qute routinely. It seemed to change the tone I think you might've been going for to a more lighthearted style.
Of course, if that's what you were going for, then it works. Interested to read the next part when you write it!
Thanks for the feedback! I appreciate it!