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Dear Creepypasta Series: Chain


Wednesday, December 1st, 2011
It’s just an email, it won't hurt me. They’re just words on a computer. I had been scared of chain letters my entire life. I had always forwarded them, but now I was getting too old to believe in such a silly thingy. No, I couldn’t push myself to have this in here. I was having a terrible anxiety attack. Twelve people sent to, just like it asked.


Thursday, December 2nd, 2011

The next day at school I approached my friend on the matter. “Did you forward the chain letter?” Before answering me, he procured his phone from his pocket, showing me the email I had sent him. Before, I had not read the whole thing. I didn’t want to give myself nightmares. But now, I felt safe. Here’s the letter:


“Hello. My name is Gregory. I loved to play with chains. Then my daddy beat me to death with one. He drank a lot of beer. But now he’s dead, too! I killed him. Don’t hurt my chains. Send this to twelve of your favorite people! But hurry, I’ll be back on Sunday!

Love,

Gregory”


The letter was unusual for a chain letter. It wasn’t particularly descriptive. It didn’t feel as threatening as some of the other chain mails I’ve gotten before. But, it scared me. My name is Gregory. I miss you, Dad.

I was very worried for my friend. What if he died? What have I done? I didn’t personally know all the people I sent the message to. I didn’t care, I warned them all anyway. All of them, they laughed at me. I ended up crying and ran home. They could be dead and it would be my fault. MY FAULT!


Friday, December 3rd, 2011

All of these poor people! They would all be dead from this stupid letter. I couldn't sleep at all last night. I was thinking of all of the terrible ways this psycho would murder them all. I asked my friend to stay over tomorrow night. I know we’re kind of getting old for it, but I didn’t want him to die. Maybe the killer would get confused when he wasn’t there! Yes, that’s it. What about the other people? Some of them were my friends. I didn’t want them to die. I think my mom would be worried if I invited the whole neighborhood to spend the night. I couldn’t save them. I felt terrible, but it was better to save one than none at all.


Saturday, December 4th, 2011

He was coming over at about 4 P.M. I got ready. I didn’t want to be defenseless if the killer came. I took a knife from the kitchen block and hid it under my pillow. After he came we were running around outside, and then I suddenly tripped on something. A chain. It was old and rusted like it had been there for a long time, but I had never seen it before. The coincidence terrified me.


I’m writing this from home now. I wouldn't believe this if I didn't see it for myself. The time came that we were settling down around 11:30. We were dead quiet. I was staring at the clock, watching the minutes slowly go by. It was so quiet we could hear each other’s breathing. Well, he could hear mine, at least. I was so nervous. We just sat there, consumed by the silence and darkness. The clock at last hit 12:00. A wave of relief rushed over me as the clock turned to 12:01. The door to my room flew open with a large shadow in the doorway. A large man grabbed me and chained me up to the chair in the corner of the room. What happened next, I remember in vivid detail. I watched as his pinned my friend to the ground. He ripped opened his stomach, and pulled out the entrails. He cut off all of his limbs, and finally his head. The knife bore a hole through my friend’s torso, and then the man fed a length of chain through it. The chain was then locked together with a padlock and I watched as he casually exited the room with the torso, returning empty-handed.

He picked me up and placed me in the back of his truck. Tied to the end of the truck was the chained torso. The man then drove around our town, mutilating, murdering, and chaining the torsos of the other 11 people I had sent the letter to. I was forced to watch all of these murders. Driving along the road looked like a chain of fucked-up wedding bells. After he was done, he put the knife in my hands and left without the truck.

I drove back home, finding the police there. My mother had walked in and called them. Now they say they're going to ask me a few questions. But no, they’re arresting me? Why? I didn’t do any of this! I couldn’t do anything to save any of them! W-


The writing trails off as a line


POLICE REPORT: Wednesday, December 28th, 2011:


Suspect denies any involvement in murders. Forensic evidence and eyewitness accounts prove the suspect as guilty of all 12 murders in the early hours of December 5th. The suspect’s mother has given us his journal, hopefully to prove of his “mental instability”. Looking into the journal reveals he was “chained-up” while the murders were committed. Eyewitnesses said of no such thing and no such chains were ever found. A mental evaluation will follow the hearing.
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