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Creepypasta: Looped


Version 1:
It was 1AM on a Friday, and I was irritated at having been woken up by my friend, Joe, by a rude message.

'dude get to my room and bring me my guitar got a gig in half hour i need it'

'Idiot.' I muttered as I rolled out of bed and crossed the hallway to the dormitory room of Joe. He had always hidden a copy of his room key on the ledge above the door for situations like this and as I opened his door, a wave of despair swept over me. The room looked as if it had been trampled like an army of wild animals.

'Jesus, Joe. Where the hell is your guitar.' I made my way to the bed and rummaged randomly through the stacks of clothes on it, hoping that the guitar was somehow buried beneath them. I frowned as my hands closed upon a black, wooden box.

Curiosity over-took me as I examined the box carefully. Nothing special, just a typical wooden, black box with a bronze clasp keeping it shut. I flipped open the clasp and found a rectangular metal box-like contraption in it. In red, faded lettering were the words ‘Time Machine’ printed on its top right corner and in its center was a big red button.

I let out a laugh. This was just the kind of junk Joe would waste his money on.

'What a numbskull.' I chuckled as I pressed out the red button and tossed the time machine behind my back.

I then proceeded to rummage through the stacks of clothes on the bed and frowned as my hands closed upon a black, wooden box. Frowning slightly in confusion, I opened the box and chucked softly at the metal box-like contraption named ‘Time Machine’. Pressing down its big red button, I tossed it behind my back.

'What a numbskull.'

Version 2:

It was 1AM on a Friday, and I was irritated at having been woken up by my friend, Joe, by a rude message.

'dude get to my room and bring me my guitar got a gig in half hour i need it'

'Idiot.' I muttered as I rolled out of bed and crossed the hallway to the dormitory room of Joe. He had always hidden a copy of his room key on the ledge above the door for situations like this and as I opened his door, a wave of despair swept over me. The room looked as if it had been trampled by a herd of wild animals.

'Jesus, Joe. Where the hell is your guitar.' I made my way to the bed and rummaged randomly through the stacks of clothes on it, hoping that the guitar was somehow buried beneath them. I frowned as my hands closed upon a black, wooden box.

Curiosity over-took me as I examined the box carefully. Nothing special, just a typical wooden, black box with a bronze clasp keeping it shut. I flipped open the clasp and found a rectangular metal box-like contraption in it. In red, faded lettering were the words ‘Time Machine’ printed on its top right corner and in its center was a big red button.

I let out a laugh. This was just the kind of junk Joe would waste his money on.

'What a numbskull.' I chuckled as I pressed out the red button and tossed the time machine behind my back.

Giving up on the pile of clothing, I combed through the other piles of junk before giving up.

'can't find your guitar, too bad.' I texted Joe as I returned back to my own dormitory room and climbed back into bed. I fell back to sleep within seconds.

It seemed like only a couple of minutes had passed before I received a text from Joe. I looked at my phone clock- it said 1AM.

'dude get to my room and bring me my guitar got a gig in half hour i need it'



Grabbed from Horror/creepy short stories

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