Short Creepypastas

Four Down, One To Go

One night I was enjoying a night out with some friends. We had all decided to go to this local bar that had always been a favorite with the gang. There was amazing music, hot chicks, plenty of beer to go around. God, it was every man's paradise! We had been there for several hours and by this time had all become quite wasted, except for Colton, who had been appointed as our driver for that evening out on the town.

We always did that, just to be on the safe side. We knew the consequences of being caught driving under the influence, so we had come up with this as a way to compensate. We took turns every time we went out, and I was just so grateful that my turn had been last week. I needed this night out to forget about the stress of work for at least a few moments.

We had just finished up a round and decided reluctantly that it was time to make our ways homeward. We left the bar, half dragged ourselves, half crawled, back to Colton's car. We climbed in, shut the doors and began our trip homeward.

First we dropped off Ryan at his girlfriend's apartment. He was so bad off that we had to carry him, as best we could, to the door and leave him with a very pissed off girlfriend. We dragged our feet back out to the car and left for our next destination.

One down. Four to go.

Next was Scott's house. His wife wouldn't be home because she worked nights at the hospital, so I got his keys from his pocket and helped him to the door. He was slightly better off than Ryan, not having consumed near the amount of alcohol as had the latter. I unlocked his door and helped him inside to sit on his couch. As I turned and headed back outside, it was then I noticed that the garage door was open and his wife's car was parked inside. I figured she had gotten the shift off and so was glad. She could help Scott out and if he got sick well... She could deal with it. I wouldn't have to worry about him drowning in a pool of his own vomit. I noticed, oddly enough, that the door connecting the house to the garage was ajar. I shrugged it off and continued back to the car. As I sat in the passenger seat, I looked up and noticed a silhouette illuminated in the second story window. That confirmed my suspicion this his wife was home. I shot her a text, informing her that her husband was downstairs on the couch, drunk off his ass. A few seconds after I sent the message, my iPhone showed that it had been read. I then saw the dark figure in the window disappear. Good. He was in good hands now.

Two down. Three to go.

Our last stop before heading home ourselves was Justin's house. He lived all alone in his little three room trailer on his small plot of land some ways back from the road. His driveway was a good mile long and was full of potholes, which means it took us what seemed forever to navigate our way to his place of dwelling. We finally arrived, however, and he staggered to get out of the back seat. He couldn't find his keys, so I had to get out to check the backseat for them. I found them and handed them to him. As I climbed back in, Colton and I watched him stagger and trip to his door. We waited, making sure he got inside before we left.

Three down. Two to go.

Now it was just Colton and I in the car. His house was the next one, and I lived just a block down the street from him, so I decided I could make the short walk to my decent one bedroom apartment alone. We pulled up to his place and he cut off the engine. We got out of the car, said our good nights, and parted ways.

Four down. One to go.

I began to walk slowly, staggering occasionally, down the dark, narrow street. I had only had a few drinks, so I wasn't near as bad off as some of my other compadres.

I arrived home a short time later. I unlocked my door, stepped in, and shut and locked it. I didn't live in a bad area of town, but I preferred to be safe rather than sorry. Just how I am.

I walked towards the kitchen, passing my home phone as I did so, it being on the hallway table between the front door and the kitchen. The light was flashing on the answering machine, indicating that I had a message. I figured I could check it once I had grabbed myself a sandwich from the kitchen. I continued my pathway towards the kitchen. I made my sandwich, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and then set them both on the kitchen table, intending to watch my tv shows while I ate my sandwich. I stepped into the bathroom to wash my hands and noticed that my window was open. I realized that I must have forgotten to close it before leaving earlier that evening. I stepped over and pulled it shut, then proceeded to wash my hands and clean up a bit before looking at myself contentedly in the mirror. There. I looked decent at least.

I decided to check my answering machine before heading to the living room, so I backtracked to the hallway and pushed the button below the flashing red light. A voice spoke, indicating that the call had been made just a few minutes before I had arrived home. My curiosity was peaked, wondering who could be calling me at such a late hour. Suddenly I heard on the machine a most dreadful and terrifying scream. It echoed down the hallway. It was a scream of anguish... Of terror. I then heard a voice yelling my name. I couldn't make out much of what they were saying, but the sounds of that scream sent chills down my spine. I noticed that the call had been from Colton's phone. I began to feel nervous, so I called him back to see if everything was alright.

No one answered.

I was unnerved. I decided to walk back to his place and see if everything was alright.
It didn't take me long to get there, and as I did, I noticed nothing out of place. His house looked just like it had before. I knocked on the door. No answer. He's always been a deep sleeper, especially when he's drunk, so I sorta shrugged it off as a drunken call and then turned around, heading homeward.

I arrived home the second time to find my front door ajar. I was aggravated with myself, since I had apparently forgotten to pull it shut before leaving. I stepped inside, closed it, and locked the deadbolt, still unnerved from the previous message. I took off my shoes and headed towards the kitchen. I grabbed my sandwich and soda and worked my way to the living room. I fell back onto the couch with a sigh and just sat there for a moment, realizing my remote was on the table across the room. I didn't feel like getting up just yet to retrieve it, so I relaxed, closed my eyes, and laid there in silence.

It was then that I heard it. A noise. A slight scuffling, like someone was dragging their feet across the floor. I shrugged it off as nothing and continued to lay there. As I did, I began to think about the mysterious phone call. Colton's voice. That scream... I shivered as I remembered the sound of it. I hoped it wouldn't be in my dreams tonight.

As I lay there thinking, though, a thought suddenly came into my mind. I started to open my eyes and sit up in terror as I realized the sickening truth:

Colton hadn't been drunk when he made that phone call.

It was then I heard the scuffling noise again, except this time it came from behind me. Behind the couch. The very couch on which I was sitting...