CreepyPasta Stories

Phil Kirbson

"Hey, Collin, you hear that bullshit story Kirb's been telling?" Mike called to me as I entered the brake room. Kirb was next to him, wearing a shit eating grin. He knew I hadn't, and he was excited to tell me.
I sighed and dropped my head. I didn't really want to hear about this. But maybe it would be good...?
"No. I haven't." I answered, sitting acrost from them both.
Kirby smacked his hands together and looked over at me somewhat evilly.
"Well. I'll tell you the story." He laughed menacingly.
"There was a man a while back, who always came to work with a friendly smile on his face. Always did what he was told, was never late and always worked overtime to make sure he had his record squeaky clean. This man came to work everyday with his shirt tucked in, his hair parted perfectly, and his horn-rimmed glasses always looked brand new.
This man's name was Phil Kirbson." He said with a smile-a kind, friendly smile.
"Everyone wondered what was wrong with Phil. No one could ever go as long as he had, doing as much work as he had, without braking at least once. But he did this for years.
He practically lived in his cubical. And every morning, as soon as the boss opened his office-he was always there before everyone else, everyone besides Phil-Phil was standing beside him, a cup of hot coffee in hand.
"Here you go, boss." He'd say with a smile before walking back to his cubical.
And every day, just before he left, he'd walk up to the boss and ask: "anything else I can do?"
The boss would say no, and tell him to get home and get some sleep.
No one could understand Phil. But he did get the company pretty far."
Kirb paused to take a bite of his sandwich.
"Well, one day, after all of this, the boss decided he wanted to see if he could break Phil. He would give him an impossible task. No matter who was given the task, there was no right Way to do it, therefore deeming it impossible.
"So when Kirbson went to the boss's office and asked the usual "anything else I can do, boss?"
His boss responded with "not tonight." He had something planned, but he needed to wait until the next morning.
"Alrighty. See you tomorrow, boss." he said with his usual smile, and he left for the night."
Kirb stood up to grab a soda from the vending machine.
I sat a little closer to the edge of my seat and waited with anticipation for Kirb to get back. I wasn't going to admit it, but I really wanted to know what task Kirbson's boss was going to give him.
"So, where was I?" He asked, sitting back down.
"At the task part." I answered eagerly.
Kirb and Mike laughed.
"So, Kirb's boss was ready to begin to break Kirbson.
"Kirbson?" Kirbson's boss asked before he left after giving him the morning coffee.
"Yes boss?" He asked kindly.
"I need you," he paused to grab the humungous pile of papers. "To solve this, answer this, read it and go through. Have it on my desk by 5:00 p.m. tonight before you leave, or you stay longer. Got it?"
He asked.
Kirbson nodded and carried the stack back to his cube. His boss smiled to himself as he watched the day go by. Kirbson seemed to being going along well.
When 5:00 came along, Kirbson placed the huge stack on his boss's desk in a neat pile. His smile still plastered on his face. He seemed perfectly fine.
"No no no." his boss yelled, smacking the pile. "This is all wrong. Go and do it again. And remember; you don't leave until this is good." he placed the pile back in Kirbson's hands and kicked him back To his cube.
Kirbson simply said "alright boss. Sorry about that." and went to fix it.
His boss left soon after, Kirbson was still at his cube, typing away on his blocky computer.
The next day, when his boss came in, Phil was ready, and handed him the stack.
"Here you go, boss." he said like always. "I hope this is good."
His boss noticed that his usually neat outfit was now messy. His hair was pointing in different directions, his shirt untucked in a few places and coffee had obviously been spilled on his left side. His glasses sat crookedly on his face and black bags hung under his eyes. He had slight stubble and his breath wreaked.
"Were you hear all night?" His boss asked, his voice was slightly laced with care.
"Yes boss. I made sure it was perfect this time." Phil answered. He was tired."
Kirb paused as he dunked his trash, cheering for himself. I was on the edge of my seat, I didn't care what anyone else thought. This story was going somewhere and I needed to know where.
"So, Phil's boss looked up from the stack, a frown on his fat face.
"Nope. Do it again. And Phil?" He said, standing up. Phil listened carefully. How could this STILL be wrong?
"Don't. Mess. It. Up. Again. I need your genius work again. But not until this is-"
Phil wasn't listening. He closed his boss's door and locked it. Then proceeded to close all the blinds securely.
"A few people heard the boss screaming something. And Phil responding calmly. But no one dared to interrupt them.
Later, when Phil walked out, he was covered in blood.
He was smiling like normal, and the only person in the office was the boss's receptionist.
Later, when the cops came and helped the boss and took Phil, they deemed him 'mentally unstable' and sent him to the asylum.
MISSING PATIENT IN THE MENTAL ASYLUM. DANGEROUS AND VERY ILL. STAY AWAY AND CONTACT YOUR LOCAL AUTHORITIES IMMEDIATELY IF HAVE SEEN OR HEARD OF THE MAN.
Phil decided to visit his boss. He, too, heard the news cast. But no one could save his boss.
The next morning, when Suzanne - the receptionist - payed a visit, she found her boss mangled, bloody, his limbs bent in nearly impossible positions.
The mental patient - obviously Phil - was never found."
Kirb finished his story and say back. I sat there, in awe. It was a pretty damn good story.
"Sorry guys. Gotta bounce. Boss has a special assignment for me." He smiled a sweet smile and walked off, making sure his shirt was tucked and his hair neat.
"Hey, Collin?" Mike asked as soon as the door closed. "What's Kirb's name?"
I thought for a minute. The scream from the office made me sure I was right.
"His name," I whispered. "Was Phil Kirbson..."