CreepyPasta Collection

Candle Walker

The room was dark and empty, a spare room that I hadn't had the chance to do anything with. The electricity had gone out sometime earlier that night, so I had no way to tell time and no source of light except for the flashlight in my hand, my lighter, and the candle I had brought just in case. I was sitting with my back in the far corner of the room, flashlight pointed straight at the door on the other side of the room. The beam of light danced on the wall across from me as my hands shook, terrified all though I had no idea what had been stalking me that day.

It started as I was coming back to the old house from the store. I didn't have a care, so I biked, carrying my groceries in two plastic bags in a crate hooked up to the rear of my bike. When I got home I noticed that I was missing a bag of groceries; it must have fallen off when I was riding home. Thinking it nothing more than unfortunate luck, I picked up the one bag and headed inside; after all, I could do without canned goods for a few days. I opened the door and almost immediately tripped on something piled in a heap at the foot of my door just inside the house. The groceries from the bag I was holding flew into the air and scattered as the hit the ground; when I looked back to see what had tripped me there was a sloppy pile of canned food.

Since I never locked my door, I simply dismissed it as a Good Samaritan act from someone who lived in the area and was too shy to introduce themselves. I picked up all the food and stowed it away in the kitchen. It was getting to be about nighttime, so I headed upstairs to my bedroom, got a good book, flipped the switch on the bedside lamp and intrenched myself in a good story. As the night went on I started to hear weird noises coming from downstairs in the kitchen. I told myself it was just my imagination, because every time I would notice the sounds they would stop, and when I went back to the story they would pick up again. My imagination would do that to me from time to time.

Before I was able to finish my chapter, the lamp light flickered out. I put my book down, still open and pages down to save my spot, and went to turn on the main light. Unfortunately, it didn't come on either...the power was out. As I tried to remember where the circuit breaker was, the noises from downstairs resumed. It sounded like someone rummaging around in my kitchen.

I grabbed a flashlight from the nightstand drawer, a bat from underneath my bed, and headed downstairs, each of the steps creaking on my way down. When I got to the kitchen, the noises stopped. Bat ready, I pointed my flashlight all around to see where the intruder was, but saw no one. What I did see was the canned food I had recently put away was stacked neatly in a pyramid fashion just beneath the kitchen table.

I swallowed hard, thinking that someone was either playing some prank, or some sick, twisted game. Slowly I crept towards the table, feet wet from orange juice and milk that had been spilled on the floor. When I got close to the table, I could hear breathing coming from beneath it. I stooped down to look, but saw nothing. Slowly I reached out to touch the pyramid of cans; as soon as my hand made contact the cans scattered. It was as if something burst through them, scattering them in all directions. I fell back onto the soaked floor and dropped the flashlight. As I frantically grasped for the light I heard the sound of feet splashing through the puddles on the floor and run out of my kitchen. I got up and slowly followed the footprints made of the juice and milk mixture. What struck me as odd was that they weren't human footprints; they were the same width and length, but the toes were much longer, almost as long as fingers. I followed them towards the front door where they disappeared.

I relaxed a little, just thankful that whatever it was was gone, but I didn't loose my grip on the bat. Slowly I walked backwards towards the stairs again, planning on locking myself up in my room and waiting till morning. As I did, it sounded like something wet hit the wooden floor in front of me. I pointed my flashlight down at the floor and my heart stopped. There was a new footprint, this one pointed at me. I took another step back; another wet slap, another footprint.