Creepypasta, Horror stories, and more

Creppypasta #3

The Psychopath

Mena had been in the shower for nearly an hour when the water-heater spit out the last drops having any semblance of warmth to them, prompting her to quickly shut off the flow before that damn chill re-attached itself to her.  It was honestly the first time she had felt warm in a week.  There were only two towels and they were…suspect, at best, but she made do nonetheless.  The odds of her winning the lottery were probably higher than the odds of finding anything clean in this place.  Two weeks ago something like that would have driven her crazy.

In a race against the cold, Mena dried off and put on the only clothes she could find that stood any chance of staying on her frame.  Obviously, there would be nothing that would fit her, but with creative use of a belt, a red-flannel shirt acted as a dress and a pair of long-underwear were turned into baggy leggings.  She placed three pairs of socks on each foot to act as shoes; avoiding the bathroom mirror at all costs.

The prospects in the kitchen were just as bleak.  An extensive search turned up a half a loaf of stale, but fortunately mold-free, bread, unopened cans of green beans and corn and some ketchup.  There was a large, meat-freezer in the corner of the filthy kitchen but…she wasn’t that hungry yet.  She opened the cans at the table and put the ketchup on the bread; it was Thanksgiving dinner!  She ate like a wild animal, lips-smacking, mouth open, and giggling uncontrollably while she did.

Mena had never known such hunger existed.  Despite that, she had to stop half-way through her feast; her stomach had shrunk and it was painfully evident that if she continued to shove it in, it would just come right back out.  Her stomach gurgled in unsettled agreement and she washed it down with a glass of ruddy tap-water.  Leaving her mess on the table, she stood, stretched and yawned loudly; she was exhausted.  She could sleep for a week…if only.

Meandering to the living room, stepping over a deconstructed lawn-mower and small stack of plastic, Christmas reindeer lawn ornaments on the way, she finally collapsed on the couch.  It was the only piece of furniture in the room that hadn’t disappeared beneath a pile of crap in this hoarder’s wet-dream of a house.  The television remote was on the floor next to the well-worn couch and Mena flipped on the old tube-style RCA across the room.

After a couple seconds of flickering, the picture came to life and the colorized version of “It’s a Wonderful Life” began to play.  Mena sighed; was it close to Christmas?  She couldn’t remember.  It seemed there was quite a bit that she couldn’t remember.  She flipped through the channels before stopping at her own face.  It was her cheerleading picture.  She loved that picture.  Smiling, Mena turned up the volume.

“…again Jane, authorities are asking for any information that anyone might have that could aid the investigation, please call the number at the bottom of the screen.  Mena Renee Metzler, seventeen, was last seen at the Hardwick Exxon on Claymore and Forty-ninth Avenue eight days ago.  Her twenty-eleven Subaru WRX, was found deserted on Mishway Road and authorities do believe there were signs of a struggle.  Police do believe there is a strong possibility that Mena may still be in the area and,” they changed the picture to one of her at the beach last summer with her mom and dad.  That was a good day.  “…they are asking everyone to please keep their eyes open and…”  Mena turned the volume back down

She looked at the picture on the television and then at her own greasy, stringy blonde hair; so many damn split-ends!

“Fuck it,” she said to no one as she got back up and made her way back down the hall to the bathroom.  She didn’t want to see before, but now…now she did.  Using one of the wet towels she had tossed on the floor, Mena scrubbed away as much of the crud from the mirror as she could and took a good, long look.  Wow.  She knew it was going to be bad, but this…could this have really happened in one week?  It had felt like a month at the time and now…now it kind of looked that way as well.  Mena was a shadow of herself.