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This is based on a dream I once had that terrifies me to this day. It was sort of messed up, but not as gory as the story below. The strange thing is that it wasn't until after I woke up that I understood the story.

The story:

As Beth walked up the staircase, she could have sworn something was wrong. Mister Han had been behaving very strangely today, and that was quite unlike him. He had seemed most reluctant to even look at her when she came in, and now he kept looking. He stared at her as she ascended the stairs, unmoving, unblinking.

Beth feared that she'd never know why, of all the days, Mr. Han wasn't his usual, bright and cheery self today. The age just gets to you, she thought innocently. Mr. Han had been like a grandfather to little Beth. Her own Grandfather had died and the man, still staring at her as she walked, had been there to fill up the emptiness. She was eternally grateful to him. Every evening she’d come along and spend time with him. Most of the time they played chess, and he’d teach her so many new things. He was cheerful and agreeable for a man his age. Today she had come along to find a very different man, who had not said a word since she had arrived.

She had awkwardly asked him if she could get the chess board from the upper stories of his two storied bungalow, and getting no response, she had walked up herself, determined to get away from the man. His cold gaze frightened her, perhaps he was sick, but he certainly could have answered her.

Her toe jabbed against the last step. She hadn’t remembered climbing up these many steps the last time she had been there. And that was just yesterday! The old man was still looking at her, so she rushed up without worrying about the pain.

She hurried into the room and closed the door. She could still feel him staring, through the door. She turned around to look for the Chess set. It was in his cupboard, wasn’t it?

She turned around and walked towards the cupboard. It was closed. She hated it when it was closed. It was rusty and old and the doorknob was heavy. She’d have to use all her strength to pull it open. She wondered how Mr. Han ever managed. She stood there for a while, lost in thought. Then she realized that something was strange.

She could hear voices; People whispering inside the cupboard. Three different voices mumbled and groaned. Something inside Beth urged her to listen intently. She leaned forward and touched the door.


Someone was pounding the door from inside. She stepped back, too startled to speak or scream. She felt as if something had smelled her out.


Beth ran. She ran across the room to the door. Opening it, she could still see Mr. Han at the corner of her eye; still strange, still staring. She ran into the bathroom.  Maybe she’d be safer there…

She was wrong.

“HELLO. I’m grumpy-face. My brothers call me grumpy-face.” A man stepped out as she opened the bathroom door. His voice was dopey and sad and stupid and indescribable. His face was round and his complexion caramel. His eyes were watery and big. His lower jaw was missing.

The wound looked fresh. Parts of flesh hung out and blood dripped. No wonder he was grumpy face. He couldn’t smile.

Beth finally screamed. She ran right back into the room, forgetting about the horrors that lurked there. Now the horrors had succeeded in breaking the door and escaping their cage. Three men lurked in the room, waiting for Beth. A man with an unnaturally wide smile giggled. Beth turned again and ran right past Grumpy-face down the staircase.

Mr. Han was still in his rocking-chair, staring.

Happy-face giggled again.

Green-eyes purred.

Scissor-scribble did his work.


This work has been copied from Creepypasta Wiki. You may find the original copy there or continue reading here. All works are licensed under CC-BY-SA.

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