Pokémon creepypasta I dug up from a long time ago and posted in the Spamzone recently. I figured it was worth a thread of its own, if only to spook some more peeps. Loosely based on the Pokédex entries of Gastly, Haunter, and Gengar, strung together in a sort of multi-tiered haunting. The narrator offers warnings and information to those who suffer its effects. 1st Poison You'll know it's coming when you see the fog. Some people say it's a thin, purple fog. I dunno, mine looked like regular old morning dew, dense and grayish. I don't think it matters. But don't worry, you'll know when it's the fog. You just might find out too late. When it finally rolls in, the first thing you'll notice is that unbearable chill. At first there will be a murmur of concerned voices. You and people around you are likely to develop a nasty cough. Some people will freak out, start shouting "It's poison!" or some garbage like that. Some won't do either of those things. They'll take deep breaths of the stuff. Those people are freaks, and the first thing you can do to protect yourself is stay far away from them. Trust me. After about three days, one morning you'll wake up to find the fog has passed through. Yup, just like that, poof. But you're not out of the woods yet. Remember those loonies you heard shouting about poison before? Now you might hear something interesting from them. If they're not already comatose, the pussies, find one and ask him where the fog went. He'll probably tell you something cute like, "It evolved." Now, you can still save yourself at this point. If you move, if you get far out of town before nightfall and never come back, you'll be just fine. You'll be on the run the rest of your life, because the fog will always find you again - but I don't know if you can survive if you choose not to run. If you do decide to stay, just keep to the light. The light is safe and warm. Sunlight is great for you; unnatural lights will do. Never close your eyes for too long, and leave a light on when you sleep. And whatever you do, don't look into the dark. ...You looked, didn't you? I know, couldn't help it. Curiosity gets the best of us. But rest assured, you're done for now. It doesn't matter where you go anymore. If you looked into the darkness, the deepest, blackest darkness that can exist, just long enough, you felt it. Just for a second. It's easy, so easy, to think you imagined it. But it's no trick. They can see you now. You'll start to feel that chill again. A horrible chill that grips you at random. It'll make you shiver instantly. And you'll get another feeling too. It's hard to describe, but it's kind of like a tugging sensation, only you're never sure which way you're being pulled. At night, the chill gets worse; if you look at your shadow, the pull turns to pain. Eventually, you'll just feel both all the time. You might be wearing sweaters in the dead of summer and still feel like you're in a fridge, and you'll start to ache from the tugging. And at this point, if you look at your shadow, you might notice two red, angry-looking eyes. It's much rarer that you'll notice the wide, fanged grin. If you survive long enough, you'll notice the town getting quieter and quieter. People won't be out nearly as much. After a while, you might start to think they disappeared for how quiet the place is. Turning into a real ghost town, innit? ...All right, that was bad, sorry. Anyway, just don't go into anyone's houses. Honestly, just trust me on this. You won't like what you find, and it'll only make things worse for you. There's one group of people you'll still see. Remember the freaks? The ones who breathed in the fog like fresh country air? They'll walk around like nothing's wrong. They will not notice people disappearing in the slightest unless you straight-up tell them, and then they'll brush it off like it's nothing. This is if you talk to them before about the nine- or ten-day mark. After that, well... I reiterate my warning to stay away from them. Not that you can escape anymore. After a little over a week has passed, you'll feel sick. Like projectile-vomiting sick. You'll start to think your eyes are playing tricks on you. The light grows faint, the shadows grow thicker and blacker. You'll see phantoms in your peripherals, smoky silhouettes that always seem to be following you, but vanish when you turn to face them. That tugging sensation from before will turn on a whim into full-on searing pain, as if you're being ripped apart in a dozen places. Insomnia is common; you'll see faces when you close your eyes and hear voices in complete silence. Tell yourself all you want that it's not real, it's just your imagination, you're just sick and sleep-deprived. They won't even argue with you. They'll just repeat the same thing, over and over h u n g r y One night, you'll be awakened by a sound. Someone's breaking in. The phantoms. The freaks. Don't fiddle with the lights, they don't work anymore. Don't run and don't struggle; this is the closest to a merciful death you're going to get. They'll close in from every angle - perfect shadows slithering through shades of night and locked doors. They make it slow; they savor your fear. One will glide right up to your face. Then you'll see it for the last time. Deep, purple fog. Beady, ruby-red eyes. The widest Cheshire smile you've ever seen. Good night, sweetie. You're never waking up again. 2nd Poison You'll know it's time when you see the fog. Some people say it's a thin, purple fog. I dunno, mine looked like regular old morning dew, dense and grayish. I don't think it matters. But don't worry, you'll know when it's the fog. You'll feel it right away. When it finally rolls in, look around you. Most everyone will be tense and jittery. Some of them might start sputtering, like they've come down with strep throat on the spot. Some people will freak out, start shouting nonsense like "It's poison!" But you'll be fine. The stuff might even clear up your sinuses. Are they funny? The ones freaking out, I mean. Do they make you want to laugh? It's okay to laugh. Embrace it. Take a deep breath and let out a big belly laugh. The air will calm you. After about three days, one morning you'll wake up to find the fog has passed through. Yup, just like that, poof. But don't worry, it's not over. Remember those loonies you heard shouting about poison before? Now you can scarcely get near them. They'll jump if they see you coming, run like mice from a cat or - and these are the fun ones - try to fight you. Don't worry, you'll win. You might blank out for the fight, but you won't lose. Not anymore. Now, you could still turn back at this point, if you want. Don't see why you'd run, but I guess it's none of my business. If you move, if you get far out of town before nightfall and never come back, everything will return to normal. Well, unless the fog finds you. Then the changes will start again. So let's assume you stayed, since you almost certainly did. If you liked the sun before, you'll hate it now. You'll want to be in dark places, very dark places, and in the cold as well. Whenever you are, you'll sort of feel like something's flowing into you from all directions. It feels... soothing. You'll like it. Don't worry, you're allowed to like it. It's natural. But it won't last. That feeling will fade after a while, and you'll want it back. You'll start to crave it, feel empty without it. It will pull you towards the people unlike you, the ones who are nervous and sickly. Then, without awareness, you'll be out of their presence, but the fullness will return to you. The more you feed that urge, the greater your chances of seeing something very interesting in the mirror. Your skin will be pale, with abnormally dark shadows; your eyes will be bloodshot; and you'll be smiling a toothy smile, literally from ear to ear. You won't be able to get rid of it, no matter how you twist your face. No one else can see it yet, but they will soon. Things will stay like that for... oh, little less than a week? Depends on the person. But if they stay that way long enough, you might notice the bodies. Your family, your neighbors. Anything human, anything you approached in one of your hunger fits. Dead. Mutilated. Skin stripped off, bones broken and protruding, mangled faces frozen in horror. No blood though. Neat, right? You did that. Don't worry, you're not supposed to remember. Not just yet. But take note: You don't feel a thing, do you? Did your mother and father turn up dead today? Is your boyfriend now a pile of shredded tissue and organs? You probably didn't shed a tear. You might have felt good about it, laughed, even. Don't fight the laughter. You want this to be pleasant, because it's permanent now. Anyone who doesn't meet that grisly fate will avoid you like the plague. Well, they will if they're good at taking advice. Sorry, I told them to. Figured it was only fair. Don't worry, you can catch them. Try to have some fun, make a game of it. See if you can spook them to death. Maybe chase them around a bit, make them think you can't follow them into the light, something cute like that. Keep 'em on their toes. If they're persistent, don't fret; you'll have them soon. By the way, have you noticed you have friends? Those are the weird foggy things roaming around at a snail's pace. Occasionally they might flash you a smile, or wave lazily. They may even begin to help you in your hunts. If you didn't know, you look like that too. That's why the others are terrified of you now. Well, that, and they've probably seen your handiwork at this point. They know their bodies will soon be counted among the dead. At last, you'll come into your... "evolution." You will fully see the results of your work - the before, during, and after. You'll see your targets from miles away, through floors and walls, like grand, glittering beacons of light. You'll chase them, and a tingle will rush up your spine as they try to run, and again when you see how easily they are caught. And you will relish every frenzied, gibbering shriek of pain and fear. Every crackle of snapping bones, every squick and skrunch as the flesh is chewed to bits. Your tastebuds will sing as the blood snakes out of their veins, off their ragdoll bodies and over your tongue. After each meal, you will feel so full, so pure. And before you've so much as wiped your mouth, you will feel so H U N G R Y You'll know it's time when you wake up one morning and the sun's not out. No, no one messed with your clocks. What happened is, sunlight doesn't exist anymore. Not for you. You might realize that as you look around and notice all the lighter shades of objects seem to be draining, giving way to blackness. And then, for the first time, you'll see. See the way you're meant to. In a formless, empty void, you'll find a wondrous new world, live a bold new life; you'll be able to walk, speak, hear, see, in ways you couldn't have fathomed before. And those precious white beacons will still be there. And you'll still be so very, very hungry. Hungry for souls. You're one of us now, kid. Welcome to the fold.