idolpro | Creepypasta Round Robin: pep

Creepypasta Round Robin: pep

[The room that you find yourself in is dimly lit, tastefully adorned with decor in metal and stained glass. An ornate and overly large grandfather clock stands in shadow at the far end of the wall--while it is difficult to tell precisely what time it is, the tick of each second is surprisingly, distressingly loud.]

[A long, low table covered with with a black crushed velvet tablecloth houses an array of drinks, some spooky treats, eight serving dishes, and eight sets of silverware.]

[On a desk along the far wall, you will find a piece of parchment and a quill pen. The parchment reads only the following:]

I hadn't seen the door before; it wasn't there last night.

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[eyeing the drinks warily]

Just writing stories today, huh?

It looks that way...?

They haven't said anything about them - doing anything, I don't think.

[In this light, the ghostly candle flames on the tips of Cobalt's antlers are just baaarely visible, easier to spot out of the corner of your eye but seem to vanish when you look at them directly.]

[He's staring at the snacks and salivating just a little]

...How poisoned do you think those are?

Yeah, I don't see anything in the rules about healing or anything. That's...hopefully a good sign...?

[shrugs]

Eh, I'll be the test subject.

[takes a sip of purple drink and eats a cookie. Nothing untoward seems t be happening so]

Hmm...

Maybe trying a little won't hurt?

[wearing the uniform jacket so he's not also glowing. Good mood lighting though!

ALso Gladio's already eating cookies]

They taste fine. We'll find out if I fall over in the next minute or so.

So maybe it's okay to... just... write something, this time?

The prompt is... the mystery door, hmm...

Spooky stories? Not suspicious at all.

Also, why do people in haunted houses movies never just. Leave?

O-oh, but if they leave the monsters will chase them through the forest...

Monsters are very punchable. Or you could hit 'em with a tree.

[a small tree... but he could totally wield a tree]

It looked like every other door in the building - laminated pine, with a worn but unassuming brass knob. I knew I was supposed to be getting the new box of toner from the supply closet, because those photocopies weren’t going to make themselves, and they’d be needed for the meeting about Corporate Synergy in the upcoming fiscal quarter. But my curiosity was too great; the allure was too great, that irresistible siren song of novelty.

I held my breath and turned the knob. My pulse was pounding. I pulled it open and saw... darkness. On the far side of the room, the pale glow of an exit sign was the only light, a steady beacon guiding me forward and tempting me into the unknown. The air was stale, the scent of dust and mildew hanging in the stale air.

I inched inside, groping along the wall for the light switch. Then, behind me, I heard it -- the click of the door closing behind me, plunging me into darkness.

I panicked, clawing at the wall until my fingernails caught at the switch. The flash of fluorescent lights blinded me, flickering on in fits and starts with a high-pitched buzz that I could feel in my chest.

And then, I saw it.

A sight so horrifying I froze solid, blood turned to ice, a shout of horror caught in my throat:

THE OPEN OFFICE PLAN

[Abruptly, the clock begins to chime, reverberating much deeper than seems appropriate for the room. The writing on the parchment begins to fade, the letters searing dark into the paper before disappearing altogether. But soon enough, it is replaced with another line, waiting for the words to continue the tale...]

"Wake up, love," she whispered, hoarsely. A harsh, chemical smell coated her body.

Hmm.... I don't knnoo oh Gladio's drinking it already. Okay.

Um, I'm not sure I could do that, Gladio-san...

Well, you haven't sprouted wings or turned a weird color, so that's something. Let me know if you start feeling weird?

Not bad. A little sweet, but I could go for another drink.

[his face is getting a little warm though, is he really getting buzzed?]

[wow two drinks in and Gladio's feeling pretty nice]

This game's not bad.

Overwhelmed by the sheer existential horror of the Open Office Plan, I must have fainted dead away. Now the janitor stood over me, concern written all over her face as she helped me up.

"Cleaning Lady-San? What time is it?"

"Nearly 11 PM," she said, shaking her head. "You shouldn't work so hard, love. Isn't there a drinking party you should've been getting to?"

“...Oh my gods, the meeting. I missed the meeting! I -- ugh.”

My head was swimming. I felt ill, and I clenched my eyes shut while the nausea passed.

“Did everyone else leave already?” I looked back to Cleaning Lady-san for an answer, but she was gone. There wasn’t a trace of her, the dust still undisturbed in the place where I saw her standing just moments ago.

I looked around, chilled once again.

I was completely alone.

Was it a ghost? Had I hallucinated the whole thing?

I burped, and it tasted like tuna salad sandwich. Not what I would have picked had I made my own lunch, but I’d ran out of time to make one this morning, and I had that meeting, and I was starving, and it was an emergency --

They’d forgive me, right?

So I did it, I stole it.

And in that moment, standing in the empty room with the taste of tuna salad sandwich in my mouth, I remembered the note I’d found at the bottom of the bag: “I warned you not to take my lunch, CLEPTES.”

[Abruptly, the clock begins to chime, reverberating much deeper than seems appropriate for the room. The writing on the parchment begins to fade, the letters searing dark into the paper before disappearing altogether. But soon enough, it is replaced with another line, waiting for the words to continue the tale...]

"I'm gonna need those reports on the cannibal demon pits on my desk by noon." "I hate Mondays."

[Wandering in late. looking at all the decor. looking at what Cobalt is writing.]

Oh...!

It sort of... fits, this time.

[casual arm drape.. he may have overbalance a little, he's heavy]

'Sup! You joinin' in?

Hey, the game runner's catchin' on!

Do you think we're getting these from the others?

These what? The prompts?

Yes... so maybe that's the last line of someone else's story, from the last round?

So we've been sending another team... our office story.

[dawning delight in his eyes. That's hilarious]

I hope they haven't had too much trouble with it.

[he's snickering now]

Based on the prompt before this one, I think they were tryin' to write a spooky story?

Too late now.

Wasn't it supposed to be spooky?

[Abruptly, the clock begins to chime, reverberating much deeper than seems appropriate for the room. The writing on the parchment begins to fade, the letters searing dark into the paper before disappearing altogether. But soon enough, it is replaced with another line, waiting for the words to continue the tale...]

She'd gutted a whole pig for our meal tonight expecting I would be home in time, but once again I was chained to my desk, a slave to capitalism.

[Scribbling furiously]

Shiva take the wheel!

Why the cannibal pits? Why not the pit of demon-possessed vegetables?? Cannibal demon pit management is not in my job description! Obviously I can't say this stuff out loud to my supervisor though.

I can't even complain about the Department of Pits giving me the run around. I’ve already emailed them several times and they keep telling me to talk to other departments, giving me incorrect information, and straight-up not replying. But with my boss riding me about this report, I'll have to resort to what I'm dreading the most: speaking to someone in person. I wonder if today is the day I’m going to do a murder. With all those demon pits around, it'd be easy for an 'accident' to happen. Give them a first-hand experience of the cannibal demons they're supposed to be managing. With these vengeful thoughts to power me on, I march myself over to the Department of Pits to get started on this stupid report.

On the way, I spot another mysterious door that wasn’t there yesterday. Must be a more regular feature of the office than I thought.

BUT NOT TODAY, DOOR.

After what happened last time, I’ve been on thin ice with my boss. I really need to get that report done or I might have to start looking for a new job. I keep focused and head directly to the Department of Pits. It’s already 11:15 so I need to knock this out as quickly as possible.

It’s crowded today. I take a number: It’s 495.

A voice calls over the crowd: “Now serving: Number 3”

I'm going to die in here.

I might’ve been literally chained to my desk, but these bonds can’t hold me! Nothing is stronger than the bonds of LOVE. Bones are easier to break than chains so--[thoroughly crossed out scribble.] ~~It’s a tale of tragic romance~~ Well no, I've fantasized about it often enough but let's not do anything hasty. The sooner I finished my work, the sooner I could see her face again.

Exhausted and covered in a sheen of flop sweat, I threw myself into my work, toiling through the night on endless reports.

In the small hours, janitors came to empty the wastebasket and vacuum the carpets. I tried to beg them to bring me a coffee, since I couldn’t leave my desk on account of the literal chains, but they said they weren’t getting paid enough for that. So, coffeeless, I carried on.

At last, watery light of dawn started to filter in through the windows. My coworkers started to arrive, looking clean and rested. I still had work to finish before the 7 am meeting, so I couldn’t relent.

My heart was racing from anxiety, my head was pounding from the caffeine withdrawals. But at last, I finished, right as the clock ticked to 6:59 am. I loaded everything on my thumb drive and my supervisor unlocked my shackle to escort me to the meeting.

I’d never been so stressed and exhausted. The entire next quarter and the future of our company would depend on this report, and I’d been toiling on it for months.

With fumbling hands, I loaded up my files, and explained my work to a room full of corporate suits.

They listened attentively, nodding and stroking their chins.

At the end of the meeting, I flopped back into my desk chair, spent and hollow from the adrenaline crash. I heaved a shuddering sigh of relief. It was finally over.

...Or so I thought.

My boss called me to his office.

Oh no. Oh no oh no.

My blood was cold, and the walk across the office felt like a journey of a hundred miles. Time seemed to slow as he closed the door behind me, and the only thing I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my ears.

I sat, trying not to shake too visibly as he started to speak.

I... couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

My report had impressed everyone. They’d been considering promoting me, and the quality of my presentation this morning had erased all doubts. From that day on, I’d be getting a raise, and moving from a cubicle to an office -- an actual office, with four walls and a window.

With this raise, I could finally afford to take my wife on that vacation to Paris-F, the way we’d always dreamed.

(Once I’d accrued the vacation time, five years from now.)

I hope it's enough to make up for missing dinner.

Who was 'she'? Was our wife Ringu-chan all along? Sorry for neglecting you Ringu-chan...

[Abruptly, the clock begins to chime. Twelve times the bell tolls, then a thirteenth--after that, the clock goes silent as the grave, and the lights flicker out.

With a loud creak, a previously unnoticed--or perhaps previously non-existent--door cracks open, the wedge of light bidding you enter.]

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Creepypasta Round Robin: pep

ROUND 1 DISCUSSION

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ROUND 2

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FINAL ROUND

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FINAL ROUND END