Creepypastas And Other Scary Stories

Public Restrooms

It was late, right around 8:00 P.M. For November this meant that the shadows of the night were already engulfing the world. It wasn't cold out though. The wind was gentle and carried with it the smells of foliage thanks to the various gardens that littered the campus grounds.

I sauntered along the sidewalks while admiring the weather. I loved the night, especially when the stars were out. Unfortunately they couldn't be seen from here even on the clearest of nights since the college was located just outside the city.

A friendly squirrel suddenly crossed my path, coming mere inches to my feet before looking up at me and chattering as though I had done it a misdeed. It didn't appear frightened at all so in a sudden motion I stomped at it. The creature, rather than skittering off, lay flat on the ground. I felt that I could possibly kneel down and pick up the creature had I wanted to. However I had been attending this campus for months and knew from experience that the little thing would run off just sort of contact.

So instead I continued on my way. I had a destination in mind and could not be delayed any longer.

Just ahead along the outer edge of the campus was the only women's restroom left open at this hour. The campus itself usually shuts down early on Fridays so I was lucky there was at least one left unlocked, especially considering I had an hour's drive home ahead of me. Quite honestly I didn't feel like stopping at a gas station for such a purpose this late in the day.

Turning the last building I finally arrived at the lonely structure. It could have served as a concrete outhouse in my opinion, but then again I have no knowledge of such things. It was just a small building with a single purpose.

I looked behind me as a gust of wind caught my attention. The parking lot was a few yards away, surrounded by the flat green lawn of the college. The campus buildings themselves were dark and shadowed, most of which were no longer holding classes at this time. When I saw no one there I continued on my way.

The door screamed in protest as I entered, rust covered hinges flaking away in a flurry. The sound reverberated in the small room. As was normal for bathrooms the floor was linoleum, the walls a bare white and a single yellow light illuminated the six stalls aligning the back wall.

There were only two sinks and a single roll of paper towels hanging above a trash bin. I passed by and as per usual chose the stall beside the handicapped. I always felt bad whenever I entered the handicapped stall since it was designed for those who had trouble using the regular toilets. When I was younger I took delight in the more spacious stall, but now I knew better.

Regardless of popular belief, women's' restrooms don't exactly smell better than the men's room. For various reasons it always smelled worse. I would know. In high school I had once been dared to enter every men's room on campus. I did of course, being the dare devil I was.

This time it smelled worse. As though something had died and been left to rot in the small hanging trash box along one of the stall walls. Knowing the sorts of things that would have normally been thrown in there I didn't feel the urge to investigate and set my mind to finishing my business.

It wasn't until I was finished that I heard it. A slight gasping sound, as though someone with asthma was in the stall beside me.

Not having heard anyone enter the restroom I did the immature thing and looked. I leaned forward and tilted my head until I could see under the wall to my left, allowing me to peer into the four stalls beside mine.

At first I didn't see anything. They were all empty, so I figured the sound was probably coming from the handicapped stall beside me. Before I could turn my head however I noticed a pair of legs drop down from the stall at the far end.