Creepypasta: "Eye for an eye"

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by chiryu, Oct 3, 2012.

  1. <w:wrap type="square" anchory="margin" anchorx="margin">“I’m"I'm sorry, for what I’m about to tell you might make me sound like a lunatic. Thenagain, who am I to judge whet ever I’m crazy or not? If I am or not is irrelevant though., becauseeither way, I will still have my right to tell my story and the thing that I’mgoing to tell you, is what I really, really experienced, illusion or not.<o:p></o:p>“I’venever been much of a religious person and I never really liked religion andchurches and all that neither. Problem was that my father was a very catholic person.To avoid a quarrel between the 2 of us, we came to an agreement. I promised himthat I would do chores for the nearby church every Sunday if he promised togive it a rest. A lot of the jobs I had to do were odd jobs that no one reallywanted to do. And of course, most of that involved a lot of cleaning. <o:p></o:p>
    “In thecouple of years that I have cleaned there, I’ve seen a lot of the church. Andunfortunately, the more I saw of it, the more I started to grow a dislikingtowards the church. The statues, the paintings, the tainted glass, everything.It was all just so depressive. But there was always 1 thing that caught myspecial attention, more than any other thing; The gargoyles. They just seemedso odd on a building which was made for god, something which represents all thegood. You wouldn’t expect these kind of creatures on top of such a thing, evenif they were for keeping away evil forces. And why did they always have to lookso….<o:p></o:p>
    “It wasabout 5 weeks back. I was still 17 back then. I still had 3 weeks to go until Iwould turn 18, the age when you turn adult. I was promised by my dad,apparently as some sort of repayment for my work, that I would be allowed tomake my own choices and thus whet ever I would keep going to the church, and bea good Christian, or not. Of course, I already knew what I was going to choose.I just had to bear with those last 3 remaining weeks of cleaning. After that,I’d be totally done with religion.Finally.<o:p></o:p>
    “That daywas like any other. I came back home from school, went to church and wasdesignated a job again: to wash those 4 creepy gargoyles on the top level ofthe church...Again. It was amazing how quickly those things get covered in birdpoo. I climbed up the stairs up to the top level, with my rag and bucket fullof soaped up water in my hands, and started washing those freaks.<o:p></o:p>
    “After agood 10 minutes, I was already busy with the fourth and last gargoyle. Imight’ve been somewhat reckless, but that was because I wanted to finish thisjob as quickly as possible and leave these stone creatures. Unfortunately, fatedecided to pester me that day. As I was almost done with the last gargoyle, thething’s right arm just broke off. I quickly grasped my fingers around thefalling arm and caught it just in time, though in return I had dropped the rag,seeing it soar downwards.<o:p></o:p>
    “I glaredat the arm in my hand, as I slowly came to realise this was my fault. I wasbeing reckless. I looked up into the darkening sky, as night started falling,and started thinking as to what to do. After I sat down and pondered on myoptions for a moment, I figured out that the best possible solution was just toadmit this deed to one of the priests, hoping he’d help me resolve this issue.<o:p></o:p>
    “Takingthe arm with me, but leaving the bucket behind, I slowly headed downstairs,holding the arm more carefully, not wanting ‘that’ to break too. Once I wasdownstairs, I noticed that even withthis bad luck, I still had some fortune, as I saw a priest walk by just when Ineeded one. I walked up to him and explained the situation, fearing for theconsequences. Yet, the priest did something totally unexpected. He chuckledsoftly and responded very calmly. He told me that ‘it was inevitable’. Afterall, those things had been more than centuries old. The priest even thanked me,for preventing more damage and trouble by at least catching the arm. Of course,I thanked him, and asked for help, on which he started to instruct me as towhat to do. He told me that I had to place the arm nearby the broken gargoyleand that he’d take care of it (which probably meant he’d call someone to makeit). He told me to just get my stuff and to get back down again. His smilerevealed his true intend. He probably needed me for another odd job….<o:p></o:p>
    “I justdid as I was told, going back up again. In the far end I saw the brokengargoyle, yet….something was different. It was not until I got closer that Inoticed what it was. Apparently a sheet of paper had hit the hand, or so itseemed. At least, there was something on its left hand. I walked closer onceagain, until I was about 3 steps away, just to notice something important.<o:p></o:p>
    “It wasnot paper it was holding on its left hand, but a rag. Mine to be exact. I gazedat it in awe, not understanding how it could’ve been possible. After all, I sawthe rag floating downwards slowly myself. How is it possible that the same raggot on top of its hand? Cautious, I stepped closer and inspected it close by.There was nothing much to say about it, other than that it was mine. I shruggedit off of me and placed the arm down near the amputated gargoyle. A bit tired Isighed and took my bucket in my left hand. I reached out with my right to getthe rag and walked away from there as my work there was done.<o:p></o:p>
    “But,already after my first step, I was being stopped. I felt something hold myright wrist. Caught by surprise, I dropped the bucket quickly, leaving thedirty soaped water, flow all over the ground. I turned around just to see….mywrist apparently got stuck in the gargoyle’s still intact left hand. I frownedas I tugged my arm, trying to pull it out of there. How in god’s name did I dothat? I didn’t get my wrist out though just by pulling. No, instead, it onlyfelt like my wrist got only more stuck.<o:p></o:p>
    “Frowningonce more upon the stone hand, I stepped closer towards the gargoyle. I placedmy left hand on its neck and started pulling with brute force, hoping that itwould at least give a budge. But it didn’t. It only seemed like, the more I waspulling, the more I got stuck. How come I couldn’t get out? Just before, Ibroke one by accident, but now that it could actually help out, now that I’mtrying, I couldn’t anymore.<o:p></o:p>
    “Slowlybut surely, taking my time, I started to give up, and moved less and less. Inoticed how much I was sweating, both from the heavy work-out this thing gaveme, and from the anxiety. By now, I was so stuck that I could hardly more myhand anymore. I felt like I had no way out of that grip, quite frankly afraidthat there was no way out myself. Scared, I started screaming. Loudly. Forhelp. And on the exact moment I did that, I noticed something strange.Something so nerve wrecking that my mind just suddenly seemed blank. How? Howis it possible that its grip is tightening while I’m not even moving?.... Itwasn’t my wrist that was stuck, but …. Apparently, the motionless gargoyle,still watching over the city sight, had caught me in his left hand. Once again,he continued to hold me tighter, pain starting to surge through my body by now.My wrist was being squished by a hand of stone, slowly pressuring me more andmore. The pain got worse and worse as its grip got tighter and tighter andtighter!<o:p></o:p>
    “Freakedout, I started screaming louder and louder, but there seemed to be no one tohear me. Creeped out, I tried to keep my shattered mind together, as I tried tofind an escape, but there was none! Tighter…Tighter. Tighter! I could feel it.My wrist couldn’t hold much longer, I could feel it getting closer to the pointwhere it’d just shatter! The pain was intense, like nothing I’ve ever feltbefore. I shouted and shouted hoping for someone to help and eventually evenreverted to shouting towards the stone emotionless motionless creature. Ipulled and jabbed and tried all kinds of things to pull myself loose, but itwas already too late. Everything I did hurt my wrist so badly. Once again Ibegged for it to let me go, tears strolling down my face. ‘Eye…for an eye.’ Iheard a voice speak, in such a frightening voice that it made my body cold, andwith such calmness that that alone would’ve scared me. My eyes turned to catcha glimpse of the lips of the monster, which was holding me, move. Shocked byfear, my body totally froze, not being able to move. Yet my eyes still did.Slowly…panning downward, looking at the amputated stone arm on the ground….Likea kid breaking a twig, the monster just pressed his hands together. I closed myeyes as I heard the cracking noise loudly, feeling intense pain from my wrist,breaking instantly! I screamed and cried out loudly!<o:p></o:p>
    “Stillscreaming, I trembled and placed my hand quickly onto my wrist and trie.…B-buthow?….slowly I stopped screaming, realising there was no pain anymore. Frightened,I didn’t dare to open my eyes, yet I did, after a brief moment. The first thingI saw was the one armed stone beast, still there, motionless, as if it alldidn’t matter to him. Huffing from both relieve and anxiety, I felt thedroplets of sweat pouring down of my face. I was fine? It didn’t take too longbefore it was not only sweat pouring down my face, but also a mixture of tears.Without hesitation, I turned around as quickly as I could and started runningand nothing else. Nothing would stop me. I just had to get out! I rusheddownstairs almost tripping on the stairs and sped to the door. I probably ranthe fastest I ever have, running out of the church, not looking back anymore. Thatday I locked myself in my room and didn’t come out till the morning.<o:p></o:p>
    “Nowadays,I’m 18, I have a girlfriend, good job, my own house, yet still….that dayscarred me like none other. Yet, ironically, every day on my way to work I haveto pass that same church…but I don’t mind….Only on Sundays I do. Those faithfulSundays….when I work till night and pass that church during the dark time ofthe day when no one inhabits the streets. And just then, I can see them ….upthere…..staring at me”<o:p></o:p>
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  2. Is this a story or did this really happened?

    It's kind of scary but I get the meaning behind it...
    Even if you have a bad day it doesn't mean you have to act negatively.