I had been single for a while, and I was sick and tired of it. Being 32 and single is no laughing matter; the traumatic experiences of watching your friends get married, have children, and attain the American dream are akin to the hopeless depression of the schizophrenic mental patient. I wanted a wife, I wanted kids, I wanted a steady job. I was tired of working at Burger King and living alone in a studio apartment, and I was almost certain I memorized ninety percent of pornstars on the internet by name. Disgusted by the company of my left hand, I decided to go out to one of those speed dating events. I picked out my best garb and walked out the door. Keep in mind, I worked at Burger King, so the best clothes I could afford were some mediocre dress shirts and tattered khaki pants I bought at WalMart during a clearance event.
For someone dressed in such a gothic manner, she had such a bubbly personality. Everything I said made her giggle, and I felt like a king just talking to this girl.
She was 27 and currently unemployed. She was married to a husband before, but he had left her after their two children died of leukemia.
She told me that the cancer was entwined with her lineage, dating back as far as the eighteenth century; therefore, in numerous fits of emotional rage, her ex husband blamed her for giving the children cancer and left. Too pained by the loss of her entire family, she moved to the city a few weeks ago and was living on unemployment, unable to continue working at her job due to the crippling depression and panic she suffered as a result of her abandonment.
Despite the torment in her life, she never seemed depressed about it. Either she was incredibly optimistic about life or she was one of the best actors I had ever seen; either way, I was willing to take a shot.
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I asked her if she'd like my number. It turned out that she had some bad meetings at this particular convention herself, and wanted to take off to do something more fun.
She tossed me an invite and, seeing as I was a lonely 32 year old man, she didn't have to ask twice. I never understood what she saw in me over all the other guys.
I was beaten and broken with no aspirations to better my current situation. Maybe she understood how I felt, considering all the pain she felt herself, and decided to get to know who I really was under this cocoon of emotionless insecurity.
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I sensed a thread of compassion intertwined between all that stress and trauma, willing to lend an ear to anyone that felt the same pain as her. I was truly transfixed by her presence, drawn to her character. I had never felt like this before. We decided to go to a pool hall. Apparently she used to be a regular at another pool hall by her old house, winning local tournaments and making a name for herself, and she wanted to check out the scenery here.
I wasn't too shabby at the table game myself, so I was excited. Every shot she made was perfect; the balls just sank into the pockets like each pocket was a black hole just waiting for something to trespass into its field.
Out of the seventeen games we played, I think I made around 23 shots. She just kept running the table.
It was funny, because she kept apologizing for being so good. I waived the apology and complimented her on her skill, causing her to giggle more. Every time she laughed, I fell harder and harder.
And, to be honest, I was always excited when the cue ball landed on my side of the table. You know, 'cause she bent over to take her shots, as many pros do. We left after that. She said she had to get home as she had some errands to run, being new in the neighborhood and all.
I agreed, since I had a Facebook application that I had to ate obviously I didn't give her that reason. Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? Passing up an amazing girl for Facebook? I couldn't believe it, I had actually scored a beautiful woman. Hell yeah. Weeks and months passed on. We continued to talk and eventually began regularly dating. The relationship moved pretty quickly and it seemed we were truly matched for each other.
After about seven months of dating, I asked her to marry me. I popped the question on the seventeenth, as that's how many games we played on our first date.
She found that so romantic and flew into my arms, screaming yes to the skies. Things were finally looking up. I moved out of my shitbox apartment and into her home. I always admired the cozy feel of her two bedroom ranch house. Something perfect to start a family in.
As I was moving my final things in, I noticed how much of a mess I was making, with my boxes of stuff and all.
I had been single for a while, and I was sick and tired of it. Being 32 and single is no laughing matter; the traumatic experiences of watching your friends get married, have children, and attain the American dream are akin to the hopeless depression of the schizophrenic mental patient. I wanted a wife, I wanted kids, I wanted a steady job. I was tired of working at Burger King and living. Aug 31, Which creepypasta do you belong with? Find out! Announcer: Hello! And welcome to the Creepypasta Dating Game! Now, before we get started, let me introduce the contestants!
I apologized and motioned to the basement to finish moving my things. Her face instantly darted to mine. In a hurried and almost frantic voice, she assured me that she'd take care of the rest of my things and that I should relax. It was a bit odd, sure, but she had been through so much excruciating sadness throughout her life that her having a psychiatric illness is something I expected. I complied with her request. The next few months were great. We never got tired of each other, and, on our wedding day, the kiss we shared on that alter was so special that I firmly believe angels surrounded us and serenaded us with harps and trumpets as our lips connected and sparked so brightly that the entire room was illuminated.
I'll leave out the details of the honeymoon as this is not a pornographic piece. She was always leery of me approaching the forboding basement, sometimes to the point of arguing with me about it, but, aside from that, I didn't see any fault in her.
One day, she told me she was going to the grocery store. I noted that I wanted some ground beef in order to make hamburgers for dinner.
She smiled at me with that cute, adorable smile I had grown to know and love and headed out. After climbing Burger King's corporate ladder, I had finally attained the position of regional financial manager for the entire state.
I was working on some budget information, assessing the costs of all the franchises across the state. It was a long and arduous process, but I was getting just above six figures for it, so I wasn't complaining.
After each report was fully completed and evaluated, I moved the files to a USB drive so I could upload them to a computer for a corporate meeting the next day. To my horror, with only three reports left to finish, the computer crashed.
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If I didn't finish these reports, I would surely lose my job. I called my wife, asking her if she had another computer or something I could use, but she didn't answer. I rummaged through the house to find something to finish these reports with to no avail.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, so I took the daring risk of approaching the basement. The handle was unusually cold and the door was locked. Frustrated and defeated, I slumped to the couch in a depression. That is, until I realized that there was a specific flower pot that my wife always guarded with her life. On a hunch, I went to it and found the key at the bottom of the pot, under the dirt. As soon as I opened the door, a rancid and tangible odor attacked me like a falling wall from a decrepit building.
The entire basement looked as if it was wasting away; a clear contrast to the rest of the house. The heavy layers of dust upon every surface suggested that the basement hadn't been accessed in years. Using my cell phone as a flashlight, I guided myself down the stairs and flicked a light switch. Surprisingly, the bulb still worked.
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The walls looked molded, the wood was breaking down, the stench was putrid, and the entire place was in disarray. I encountered a strong sense of dysphoria after setting foot in the room, so I quickly searched for some old computer with the intent of running upstairs as quickly as possible.
To my luck and astonishment, there was an old laptop and charger in the corner, hidden under some boxes and books.
Oddly enough, one of the boxes was one which she brought down after I had first moved in. I had not seen some of this stuff in a long time Ignoring the nostalgia, I seized the computer and charger and raced up to the master bedroom. After giving the laptop a few minutes of power, I booted it up. It ran on Windows XP and was quite the technological dinosaur compared to modern equipment, but it had Microsoft Office so it was acceptable.
As soon as windows finished booting up, a system message appeared on the screen notifying me that new sources had been added to the tagged video cache, and if I'd like to check it. I had never seen a system message like this before.
Sep 08, Creepypasta dating Game show. January 1, Shroud of Thorns. Just For Fun Creepypasta Ben Drowned Laughing Jack Eyeless Jack Jeff The Killer Ladies and gentlemen! Step right up, meet the most eligible bachelors for the criminally insane! they're cold, their cruel, their murderous, but most of all their looking for love! Which one of you. Jul 14, Dating sucks as an adult. The only way to meet new people is either on the internet or in a bar, and I'm not comfortable trying to start a relationship with someone I've come across in . Jul 19, Creepypasta dating game. Makiyla. 1. 8. Ok so we're going to roleplay. But first simple questions. Me: jeff! Come out here!.
I know that snooping is generally taboo, but curiosity overcame me. I was taken to a hidden file that required a password to access it.
Rolling my eyes, I moved my cursor to X out of the program when suddenly, something typed the password in for me.
A bit frightened at this point, I was sucked into the screen.
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There were four videos, entitled HIM. She agreed, and we set the time and place for our date. I was over the moon the rest of the night and most of the next day. My nerves kicked in on the way to the expensive Italian restaurant we decided on.
Find games tagged creepypasta like Please, Wake Up, WrongKynd, Squidward's Fate, Date Night With Eyeless Jack, Campfire Spooky Stories on multicoingames.com, the indie game hosting marketplace. Aug 24, Welcome to the household of the creepypasta. You have been dating one of the creepypastas for a while now and today is your date with him so let's go there. And let's see who your boyfriend is. Answer include Ben, Jeff, Masky, Hoodie, Eyeless Jack. Jul 13, Welcome to the Creepypasta Caretaker dating quiz! Where you'll find which of these lovely guys and gals shall be your best match! Add to library Discussion Seven Minutes In Heaven AND Partying With The Creepypasta Boys. September 13, Anya.
What if she was just being polite and had no intention of coming? A million scenarios raced through my head as I began to sweat and my heart started to race. My stomach was in knots when I walked through the doors of the restaurant, but the bad feelings fell away as soon as I saw her standing in the corner wearing a purple dress that perfectly complimented her slim figure.
The hostess looked at me funny when I asked for a table for two, and my anxiety perked up again. My panic had left me sweaty, and I was suddenly aware that I had run my fingers through my hair a few times while in transit.
I must have looked a mess despite my nice pants and shirt. I used my hands to ensure my hair was put back into place and wiped my forehead with my sleeve as I followed the hostess and my date to a table in the corner of the eatery. The date went amazingly well. Miranda let me order for both of us, telling me that she trusted my judgement. We chatted and laughed through the meal like we had known each other forever.
We decided to go for a stroll through the nearby park after I paid the bill. I worked up the courage to reach for her hand as we happily walked along the concrete path lit by soft yellow lights.
My fingers linked with hers, and just as I felt how cold her skin was, I noticed that she had stopped talking and the air around us had grown tense. My first thought was that I fucked up. I looked at her, already asking if she was alright. She changed. Horror Games. Thelipe's Collection. Sort by. View all tags. New itch. Subscribe for game recommendations, clips, and more. Please, Wake Up.
A horror game about not waking up. Yawn Games. Date Night With Eyeless Jack.
A short dating sim based on the Creepypasta character Eyeless Jack. Play in browser. Squidward's Fate.
A remake of the in famous Misfortune.