Creepypasta Wiki
Advertisement
Dark City Street

Before you read this I want you to know that there is no happy ending to this story and I don't know if there ever will be one as long as I live. I'm a nervous wreck, who's afraid of his own shadow and no amount of medication will ever fix that.

I guess I'm getting a little bit ahead of myself, it all started four years ago. Let me tell you now those were the glory days, I had an excellent job, a beautiful wife and a huge home. We even had a child on the way, but it was too good to last.

One night I was working a little later than usual, it was a cool Tuesday. I remember that because it had been a scorching hot summer that year and this seemed to be the only cool day in weeks. The office slowly started to empty as people packed up for the night, while I was stuck at the computer finishing up my report. Eventually the office became completely barren, as no one but myself remained.

I looked at my watch, I believe it was around 12:45 A.M. but that's not important. What was important was that they were shutting down the power in fifteen minutes and I needed to finish up as quickly as a possible. I was at my limit, typing hundreds upon hundreds of words a minute trying in vain to finish off my report.

That's when I saw it, it was only a glimpse but I could swear I saw someone pass by out of the corner of my eye. It was strange, since the last person in the room was my manager and he was only there to tell me the power was going out and that he was leaving. I became unsettled and felt as if I should leave, so I decided to come in early to finish my report.

I shut down the computer and looked back down at my watch. It was getting close to 1:00 A.M. So I grabbed my stuff and rushed out the door towards the elevator, when I saw the same movement. This time I spun around to see what it was, but nothing was there so I just sighed and pushed the down button. I heard the noise of the elevator growing close, but all of the sudden the power went out. I slammed my fist against the metal elevator door in protest, I was tired and paranoid so I hastily headed for the stairwell.

As I expected it was pitch black, I couldn't see a thing. I gripped what I believed to be the railing and slowly made my way down the stairs. I was about halfway down, when I heard the sound of a nearby door shutting. I was feeling nervous, so I picked up my pace a bit. I was getting close to the first floor when I started to hear footsteps behind me.

I was becoming even more paranoid, so I began to jog down the stairs. The footsteps behind me were picking up in pace and I guess I became a little unfocused as I tripped and fell face first onto the floor. I looked up and saw the door to the first floor.

The footsteps sounded as if they were getting closer, so I scrambled onto my feet and rammed through the door as fast as I could. I sprinted through the lobby and made it to the main doors. I felt a wave of relief come over me as I attempted to catch my breath. I felt a bit silly, I thought to myself it was probably just the caretaker and laughed at the thought of me being scared of a caretaker.

I opened the glass doors and walked out onto the sidewalk. It was drizzling just a bit and I had forgot my rain jacket at home. I considered calling a cab since the buses stopped running by this time, but I felt it would be better if I walked since I'd been sitting in a chair all day, this was a big mistake!

About two blocks away from the building I started hearing footsteps again, I reassured myself that it was nothing and continued on. But once again the pace began to pick up, I reassured myself yet again. The pace picked up to a full blown sprint and my paranoia kicked in, I ran as fast as I could and what came to my ears worsened my fear. I could hear more than one set of footsteps, there were several. A smirk came across my face as my house came into view.

I was almost home free, I made it to the path to my doorstep before I even knew it. But my smirk faded as my foot got caught on a stone and once again I came plummeting towards the ground. I turned my head for just a moment, a moment I won't soon forget. There were five men in overcoats and shades standing close behind me. I backed up towards the door as I stared into their blank faces. That's when my back hit the door, I quickly reached for the doorknob and turned it with lightning speed.

Suddenly the door burst open and I collapsed onto the floor. I jumped onto my feet and slammed the door shut. I locked it tight and sighed with relief, and chuckled a bit and turned around to go and find the phone so I could call the police and that's when I was filled with great horror, what I saw was my wife. She was lying dead on the floor, with her blood smeared everywhere.

I could feel myself becoming faint, and I must've passed out because the next thing I remember was waking up to the police banging on my door. I was blamed for the murder of my wife and unborn child and I felt as if I deserved it, because maybe—just maybe—if I had taken a cab she'd still be alive. After the trial I was checked into a hospital for being mentally unstable, they tell me that I have to come to terms with what I have done but I know what I saw that night and no doctor will convince me otherwise.

I still don't know why those men did what they did, but one thing's for certain, they ruined my life and I won't sleep until every last one of them is dead. As I said before there is no happy ending to this story, but I think my chances of one just went up.

I can hear the footsteps now...



Written by Dazarbalt
Content is available under CC BY-SA

Advertisement