Creepypasta Stories

Impending Doom

"It's time to sleep now, Justin. Seriously. You're getting too old for this." My father stated, while slipping the covers underneath the edges of my body, to keep me snug in place as he tucked me in.
"You're almost eight years old. You know the difference between what's real and what isn't." His words didn't comfort me in the least. He didn't know what I knew. He couldn't see what I have seen.
To this date, I'm still uncertain if what I had experienced on a nightly basis, was a series of reoccurring dreams, or a supernatural event that took place, which left me in a state of paralysis, and unable to die. I'm still here though, so it had to be a dream? Didn't it?
My father gave a slow shake of his head, bringing his hand up to run his index and thumb against his thick mustache, one that was commonly seen on any man who had served time in the Canadian Militia. He was sleep deprived, and stressed because of my constant appearances in my parent's bedroom late at night, due to these... Events?
"Now go to bed. I don't want to have to talk to you again about this." He stood from the side of the bed. He turned around, wearing his dark blue house coat, wrapped about his form so that nothing but the calves of his legs could be seen. He reached out for the light switch to my room. "Wait.. Leave it on?" I asked, almost in a begging tone, thinking that the light would be the key to keeping this.. Creature.. Away.
"Justin. You're too old to be sleeping with the light on." My father responded in his usual stern, uncompromising voice.
"Please..." I used my best pleading tones on him, hoping to sway his decision. A few seconds went by with his hand on the switch.
"Alright. But just for tonight." He stepped around the corner and closed my door, which made me nervous for some reason. I waited to hear the sounds of footsteps that my father made as he trekked down the hall to his room, and then sprang from my bed, rushing to my door and opening it as gently as I could, so that I wouldn't alarm my parents with the sounds, completely absent minded to the fact that the light from my room shone directly into their bedroom, as they never slept with the door closed.
I let out a soft sigh, sticking my head out of my door frame to gaze down towards their room. I could see a dark image of my father retiring to his bed. I then turned my head to look down the opposite side of the hall, which led to the living room, but for some reason, I couldn't see anything. Just a pitch black tunnel which lead to a void of nothingness. Clearly not the case, but my over-active imagination was turning the gears in my mind.
After a second or two of playing out in my mind, skeletons from a video game I had played earlier, emerging from the black hole in the hallway that I had been staring into, I shook the thoughts from my head, and moved back to my bed, which was tightly placed in the south eastern corner of my room. My door was just a few feet away from the foot of my bed. I liked it, because I could see someone coming, giving me the chance to prepare myself for company. That's what I told my family anyway. The real reason for the bed placement was so that I could watch the monsters and demons who were crawling into my room to take me away, warning me so that I could hide underneath of my covers. They couldn't get me there. They could never get me there.
I reached to the side of my bed, where a pair of milk crates were stacked on one another, and an old radio played music from a radio station I listened to quite frequently. A minor amount of static could be heard in the background, but the joyful tones of the positively influenced music shut out the eerie sound of nothingness. I relaxed against my pillow, dragging the sheets and the duvet up to my shoulders, wrapping the edges of them around my neck to assume a comfortable position as I curled up, staring at the clock of my radio, feeling my eyes becoming heavy. Sleep, becoming free of fear and any bad emotions that would accompany it.
"What was that?" I sprang, sitting straight up in my bed as the distinct sound of someone bringing up the contents of their stomach onto my floor sounded heavily into my ear. It was even worse, considering the intense phobia I had of vomit, clutching the back of my neck to make the sounds make me feel even worse. I started to get choked up, feeling fear trading places with the blood that ran through my veins, freezing me in my spot.
"Mom? Tressa?" I asked in a shaking voice, hoping to all things that would hear me, that it would be one of my family members. Though, there was no reason for my family to be in my room, puking on my blue patterned carpet.
I sat up further, hoping to catch a slight view of who ever was being sick on my carpet, though my back fell against the wall that had one of my pillows up against it, as I had seen the black and green liquid spreading out onto my floor, followed with more gagging and dry heaving. My stomach churned, watching the soft spatter of bile spray onto my floor. Please stop.. Please..
I sat up again, and looked over the foot of my bed, though I didn't see pajamas, nor did I see a house coat. I saw the bare back of a being, who looked as if they had been deprived of nutrition for quite some time. I could clearly see the rib cage, coated with a thin layer of skin, and each individual section of a spinal cord that trailed down the being's back. I cried out for my father, hoping that he would storm into the room to rid this creature from existence, but no such thing happened.
Sitting up slightly, the being stood, looking as if it's limbs were fused together, coming from different bodies. It's mouth was wide across it's face, a gape with small, thin rows of ivory spikes, still coated in that black and green liquid. His stomach continued to heave, forcing out small trickles of vomit onto the covers of my bed that hid my feet. I started to cry, but I couldn't move. Tears welled up in my eyes, watching this.. Thing, staring at me. It wasn't standing still, however. It's entire body was throbbing and convulsing, even though it wasn't making any movements towards me. It just stood there, shaking in spot. It's black eyes, void of any soul, watched me in place, which seemed to please it. My fear, seemed to please it. I knew what it wanted. It wanted to take me back to where ever it came from. It could have been my subconscious in my head, after hearing nursery rhymes sung to my sister, but I had labeled this creature in my mind as Humpty Dumpty. I didn't know why, but for some reason, I knew that was it's name. It had no resemblance to an egg, or anything of the like about the character named in said tale, but this was what I called it.
It didn't speak. It just made gurgling sounds, short, quick inhales of breath to made noises that appeared to be a form of chuckling. I cried out louder for my father. My mother. Anyone who could hear me. To no avail. A gnarled hand, which had flesh peeled back to expose bone fragments here and there, coated with it's own plasma, reached down towards my feet. A brief surge of confidence flowed through my body. My feet were covered by my blankets. There was no way that it was getting through.
The hand seemed to alter it's density, and the hand passed through my covers with no resistance, and I could feel it's hand grasping at my ankle. It felt hot and cold at the same time. I can't explain it. I blinked, and looked down, and saw that my blanket was completely gone, cast aside to the opposite corner of my room. Too far for me to throw. The hand then clutched tighter at my foot, and he pulled me. I felt paralyzed again, as I couldn't move my own body to try and grip at my mattress, or remaining sheets to try and hold on for dear life. Limp, my body was dragged out into the hall.
I feared that this creature had come from the abyss. The one that I had played out the appearance of skeletons with earlier. No, oddly enough. The being who was taking me from my bed, had turned to begin dragging me down towards my parent's room. What was going on? The last thing I remember about the blackened hallway, was seeing my sister peeking out from around her door frame, watching me in utter terror as this monster pulled me into my parents room.
There was a slight step going downwards into my parents room, and the back of my head cracked against the floor boards. I let out a yelp of pain, which seemed to awaken my parents, as both of them had sat up from their beds in synchronization. I turned my head, crying hard and reaching out for them, trying to express that I needed their help, but they just watched me, completely still with smiles painted across their faces. I was so confused.
Their wooden floor started to crack, and I could feel warm liquid soaking into the back of my pajama pants and shirt. I turned my attention back to the hand that was grasping at my foot, only to see that some how, regardless of physics, my ankle was being pinched in between two floor boards, and was slowly being pulled downwards. I screamed as loud as I could, watching the blood pumping out of the wound on my leg as my flesh and bone continued to be drawn down into the floor. I cried for my parents, who when I looked, were still staring at me, though their bodies were shaking, and their lips, pursed to grin, had spread slightly, showing teeth while watching me become sucked down between the thin gaps of their floor.
I kept crying, looking above myself, and seeing my sister standing in the doorway. The only person who actually looked like they gave a damn about what was happening to me, but she wouldn't advance, nor would she say anything. She would just watch in horror as my body continued to slide into the crevice of the floor. "Please help me." She couldn't hear me. My entire lower body was consumed into the cracks, and I could only look down at my waist as it kept sinking, as if I were in quick sand. The pressure of blood building up, made my eyes feel like they were swelling. I couldn't take this much longer. I opened my mouth to cry out again, as my stomach was claimed by the wood, though all that came out, was a heavily flowing river of blood that was forced from my lower body, to erupt from my mouth, followed by my eyeballs popping out of place due to the pressure inside of my body. Blood flowed from my mouth, nose, and eye sockets like a faucet was turned on inside of my cranium. My body was consumed completely, and the evidence of blood on the floor was absorbed into the grain of the wood, leaving absolutely nothing behind.
Finally, I opened my eyes again, hearing the sounds of chickadees chirping, and seeing beams of sunlight flowing through the curtains of my window on the other side of my room. I rolled to look behind me, seeing that my sister had come into my room in the middle of the night, wearing her pink one piece pajama suit. She stirred awake, bringing her hands up and rubbing her eyes. It was just a dream. I sighed in relief, and sat up onto the edge of my bed.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop him." Expressed my sister in a groggy, sleepy voice.
"What?" I shot a look back towards her, curious as to what she was talking about.
"He told me that if I wouldn't go with him anymore, then he would take you."
I stood, looking to her in horror, then looking to the foot of my bed, and seeing a miniature lake of vomit. My heart sunk, looking to it as my mother passed my door. She paused, looking into by bedroom at the mess on the floor.
"Justin, are you sick?"
"No mommy. That was me." Tressa replied.
Was it? Or was my sister just playing to the demands of the monster who had killed me last night? How long had it been here? How long had my sister been dealing with the brutal torture that he had wrought onto me? Was any of this real? Was I truly awake? Tressa got out of the bed, and reached down, plucking her nursery rhyme book out from underneath of my bed, which was opened to the story of Humpty Dumpty. She apologized again, started crying, and left the room.