Creepyskullz Book Of Creepypastas

The Painting

When I was seven years old my ten year old brother Jamie was kidnapped, or so they say. The police claimed whoever had taken him were 'professional' in doing so. That I had been incredibly lucky to have not been taken as well. They described the kidnapper in this way because no finger prints were ever found on any of the furniture. My brother had never made a sound at the time and most importantly, there was no sign of a break in at all. None of the windows had been broken, the doors weren't busted. Nothing.

Several days before his disappearance my father found a painting while rummaging around in the attic. He had been trying to find his old bass guitar after I had asked him if he played any instruments. Turns out he used to play in a band with some of his friends, and was a pretty decent player. His group was called 'Serrated Edge.' Unfortunately after an hour of searching the guitar was never found, but the painting was. It had been placed against a wall and surrounded by boxes, my father had noticed the golden frame glinting as he walked around.

The painting itself was magnificent when he lowered it down. It seemed to be in good condition despite being in the attic for so long. There was a house in the picture, a large grey house surrounded by grass. In the background a cliff could be seen, then a sudden drop which evened out to an ocean. It stretched on into the distance. Some birds could be seen up above circling the house. On the back were scrawled some words in red ink that read 'Gadael ei ben ei hun.' My mother recognised it as welsh, we didn't know what it meant at the time. My brother and I weren't very ecstatic about having it as a new house decoration, but my father loved its simplicity. He decided to put it up our bedroom.

That night we had dinner as usual, spaghetti I believe, then my brother and I went upstairs for bed. We both shared the same room. We were slightly afraid of the dark so our door was left ajar most days, letting some of the light seep in. After getting changed into our pyjamas and joking around for a bit we both settled down to sleep.

It was around 2:00am when I awoke. I realised I was hot and sweaty so pulled myself into a sitting position. Jamie was in his own bed to my left, sleeping soundly. My throat was parched, so I figured I'd get a drink of water. I pulled myself out of the bed sheets and left the room as quietly as possible, creaking the door open. Slowly I crept down the hall, conscious that the floorboards creaked. The last thing I wanted to do was wake everyone up. I headed into the bathroom.

When I returned I was refreshed, and pulled myself back into bed. I had pretty much stood my head under the tap and lapped up water like a cat, cupping it in my hands and splashing my face as well. As I pulled myself back into bed I noticed something odd about the painting on the wall. There seemed to be a black smudge to the right of the house, something I hadn't noticed earlier. Curiously I pulled myself back to my feet and approached the painting, as I couldn't quite make it out properly in the dark.

On closer inspection I gathered that the smudge was some sort of man, it resembled a human but was completely black. It looked like it was standing stationary, looking outwards, its head was cocked ever so slightly to one side. I considered waking Jamie to show him the mysterious figure but decided he'd be cranky if I did so, I'd wait until morning. I retreated to my bed.

When morning arrived the figure was gone, to my dismay. I told Jamie about the figure but he didn't seem to believe me. For the rest of the day I watched the painting suspiciously, believing that it may appear again at any moment. It didn't.

As my brother and I were climbing back into bed that night I had forgotten about the figure. That is, until the same thing happened again. Just as before, I awoke in the early hours of the morning, soaked in sweat. This time I anticipated the figure's arrival, and glanced at the painting straight away. I felt a twinge of fear. The smudge was there again, but it had moved, and it had doubled in size. It had adopted a new position, right in front of the house, a few metres away from the front door. Instead of going over for a closer inspection I forced myself to go back to sleep, hoping with every fibre of my being that I was dreaming. That night I fell asleep shaking in fear.