You know, sometimes I think I'm too hard on the Creepypasta Land Wiki. Maybe I'm kind of a dick to it. I'm sure there are some good stories originated on it.

When someone finds one, let me know. Until then, I've got a plethora of stories to Riff, like "Case File: 0." This is pretty much your standard Creepypasta Land fare: bad spelling and grammar, clichéd and confusing plot, that kind of thing. But don't take my word for it. Let's run over a kid in a hoodie that's hopefully Jeff the Killer and Riff this bitch!

i sat down in the break room happily as i bit down into the new chicken sandwich my wife had packed for me.

I sat down in front of my computer happily until I saw this story.

the chief and deputy walked in. "mind if we sit here?" mike (the chief) questioned with a smile.

Mike? As in Mike Nelson? Is Mike Nelson in this story? Please, oh Great Riffer, help me through this story!

i nodded and they sat "your new here right?" Allen chuckled with a devilish grin and mike sighed annoyed knowing what was coming next "have you heard of case file 0?" i shook my head a bit curious as i swallowed

(Allen): Well, you should’ve. It’s the title of this story.

"well let me tell you a little ghost story of this town." he cleared his throat as he began the story in a 3rd person veiw. almost as if he made it up

Probably because he did.

"Zack threw his painting supplies in the back seat of the truck, and slammed the door shut as the old trucks motor clinked. the treating drops of rain shot down sounding like a bullet from the barrel of a gun. it was 2:35 when Zack left the collage campus for home, where he'd speed the next 2 days with his younger brother Kaleb.

(Allen): That’s why Zack packed all that beer.

tired and only staying awake by the taste of bitter coffee. he flips on the radio to the "classic rock" station. He slowed down the car when he he was meet with the fork in the road that leads into thick dark hellish woods.

(Narrator): Those same woods were inhabited by adorable forest creatures that ride marshmallow rainbows.

he began to feel a hint of one of the devils favorite game "fear". the woods at night where hard enough to see threw but when it was raining you'd be lucky to even see the beam of head lights. it was at one of these nights that made the darkest thoughts in his mind spread into a blossom of madness. it was 2 miles into the woods before something slammed into his car.

(Zack): Oh, God, I hit a deer.

(Kaleb): No, that seems to be the Rake.

the shadow looked like it was a dear. possibly another person, but who would have been in the woods that late? walking alone in the dark. soon the loud clatter of the motor came to a stop and he looked around for anything that would fit the size of what hit his car, and to his terror it was what looked like a 13 year boy. his bones ripped threw his hoodie sleeve.

A hoodie? Did he hit Jeff the Killer? Please tell me he hit Jeff the Killer.

his face had been shredded from the rock covered rode. his head began to move in an unnatural fashion. then with a sudden crack he went limb almost as if he was a rag doll. soon blood was puddling from the kids mouth as if it he was throwing up. half of his neck was torn up, veins, muscle and bone gruesomely reveling it's self. zack began to look at the feature of the kid not noticing the before, simply paying attention to only the wounds hoping they weren't bad

(Narrator): …but Zack was clearly deluding himself.

but, his blood had ran cold once the car crushed the frail body. The hair looked almost midnight black with the shine of navy blue, and his skin was almost ghost white. Zack carefully turned the body so the face could be fully seen. it was almost impossible to make out the face but with the knowledge of the face's anatomy and the often painted gore he produced he could almost recognize the face. that's when he couldn't tell the difference from his tears and the icy rain. it was kaleb. panic filled him and the only thing he could think of was "hide the body" "you have to hide the body" and so he did.

That’s totally not going to look guilty at all.

he picked up his limp brothers dead body and ran deep a good length into the woods, being careful with his brother guilty for what he had done, but he couldn't let anyone know. he wasn't a killer, and he loved his brother. but he went back to his car. the clinking began again and the truck started, making it only half way to the apartment before well his body was found in the old rusting car with a giant tare in his chest.

Not a tare! Um, what exactly is a ‘tare’? Or do you mean tear?

every rib bone randomly broken, and lung torn out. the stick part of on of zack's paint brushes had been sharpened and torn into his stomach most certainly causing internal bleeding and torn up organs. some reports say there was blood running from his mouth, nose, and eyes.

(Allen): Other reports say the same thing, but it’s written much better.

the files have been hidden and forgotten for many good reasons

None of which will be explained.

but after the case was closed there was one thing missing from the evidence box the paint brush. some say it's a cursed object, causing an artist to go insane, killing there family later to be slathered by an unknown entity. but the paint brush is always put in evidence only to disappear once again" "do you really think i'll believe that?" i asked almost angered at the story

Join the club.

"if you don't believe me go and find the case file your self, find all of them" i chuckled at it "ok, but your getting me a drink if i end up wasting my time on it" "fine" i got up and headed to evidence. what i saw in there was something no human should ever see.

“The Phantom Menace”?

i can't describe it, nor will i,

(Narrator): …because I’m too lazy to think up a description.

but i can tell you this. i'm looking into the haunting blue of it's eyes

Haunting blue, as compared to creepy periwinkle.


Like I said, this is basically your standard Creepypasta Land fare. The spelling and grammar are atrocious, and get in the way of understanding the story. The plot is the main unique thing here. We have this story about some guy running some kid over bordered by a detective story. That's all fine and good, except the way the story about the kid getting run over is told is rather bizarrely. We know it's being told to us by someone else, yet it's written like some standalone story. Seriously, it doesn't read like it's being told by somebody. I personally think that the whole part with the hit-and-bury was supposed to be its own story, but the author thought, "Nah, I need that scare at the end." Speaking of which, that ending might have been good, except that it's not well written and doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Actually, the monster, for lack of a better term, is confusing. What is it? Why is it? And what's with the paintbrushes? Those came out of nowhere.

Really, a lot of this story doesn't work, and I attribute that to poor writing, both in terms of style and simple spelling and grammar. All in all, this story sucks. But, like I said, that's standard for Creepypasta Land.

So, what do you guys think? Was the story good? Was the Riff good? Do you wish I'd see some being's haunting blue eyes? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.