"I Love Hotpockets" Creepypasta

[Music] the real estate agent was sympathetic towards my situation the hustles were way out of my price range and there is no way I could have afforded any of it she made a deal with me to this day I still can't believe it was genuine but it was but had I known the repercussions I would have immediately declined I would have taken homelessness over this anything anything over this I thought the deal ridiculous when she first approached me with it a joke a gag like the ones you see on social media that say you could stay if you have blank if you ever do or have blank again everyone takes those offers they're hypothetical nothing could actually go wrong so when she proposed that I could see in the house as long as I lived rent-free mortgage free tax free as long as I gave up hot pockets I thought she was joking it was when she looked at me with those sympathetic honey brown eyes and touched my shoulder I realized she wasn't I asked her how if that was even legal trying to laugh it off and call the excitement that threatened a bubble to the surface I wouldn't be homeless she assured me that I wouldn't have anything to worry about that she was able to take care of everything through some real-estate jargon loophole that I didn't really understand she told me when I signed the deed of the house she has son just like me who would also fallen on hard times and had to move back home I had told her prior in the open house I had no family in the area I was in grad school and dorm life was starting to wane out my health and safety for personal reasons I guess her mothering instinct just took over I realized that and now how weird it was but the prospects of losing everything I never owned and living on the street was a source of great anxiety and stress and I was a desperate twenty-something with a bachelor's in biology should have minored in common science I move my stuff in the week after I signed the deed look every broke I'll shoot it in the history of forever I had eaten more than my fair share of hot pockets they taste like sake cardboard melted plastic in camp off at a temperature of a volcano but they're cheap and you can get a lot of them and your food stamps go farther when you buy in bulk the notion that I wouldn't have to pay for the place to house myself none then it could purchase food that tasted infinitely better than a hot pocket and someone that moment I felt as though I had come out on top that life was starting to look up for me life was pretty normal for a while I had settled into a pleasant routine set up my house how I wanted it even had enough money left over from a separate savings accounts for the house to purchase some pretty lengthy new additions to my one-story home I had curtains nice curtains and everything was going well it wasn't until I started my last year of school that I began to notice owed everyone in their life has had cravings before him I was no exception there's a certain type of hunger - a craving that's incredibly hard to describe however in nause you like a niche just out of reach it's more annoying than anything but it's a constant reminder that you have an irrational need for the object in question sometimes it goes away after a while but it's hard to put into words just how maddening it is to have a craving when you can't have the thing you crave and sat in the cafe area when I first inhaled it it was unlike anything I had ever smelled before the perfect combination of spices with heavy notes of garlic savory melted cheese Hardy cured gourmet Italian pepperoni in and the sauce with such a sweet robust tomato scent my mouth began to water I wondered who brought the designer takeout when I looked through the area which I was coming for her and I saw it there next to the microwave was a freshly heated up pepperoni pizza Hot Pocket I scoffed when I saw it there is no way that scent came from a hot pocket of all things but I said got up to go investigate sure enough that delectable mouth-watering aroma was coming from that hot pocket I don't think I ever hated a food more in that moment than I did then it seems really stupid I know but when the agent had told me and not eat the hot pockets she had said it with such certainty that I would never be able to live here again if I did the correlation seems so similar to my favorite childhood movie the gremlin said I had to agree to it and honestly for the security of my own home I would have given up anything highpockets seemed like the least painful thing to give up the cafe was a reoccurring incident someone every time I was there heated up a hot pocket to eat every time it's small better than the last I should mention that with the new acquisition of my house my job a savings and monetary amounts increase to the point where I could afford just about the nicest foods money could buy I no longer needed food stamps and when I went out to eat with friends I could always pay for someone else's dinner in mine I can eat anything I wanted to but in those moments why why were those hot pockets I mentioned earlier the cravings sometimes goes away but it all should be worth noting then the more you're exposed to the thing you crave the stronger the cravings get after a few months of being concessive hot pocket consumption in the cafe that's not going but that didn't mean I still wasn't haunted by them it seemed like every few days of my city a new hot pocket advertisement billboard would surface I'd be driving down the interstate minding my own business when I'd see it the blaring red and white side with the incredibly photoshopped cheese Laden hot pocket on it my stomach must have been conditioned by the cafe incidents because each time I saw that billboard I summon hoo growl as oh I hadn't fed it that day I eat pretty regularly I know means a big guy but I have the means to pick up my next meal whenever I live I have that luxury now thanks to my new house and seemingly as I drove in the opposite direction back to my beautiful house there is another billboard it looked identical to the one that I had seen earlier as though the sign had moved it was a stupid notion to be sure but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was too coincidental I rationalized it in my head that I was hyper fixated on hot pocket since I couldn't had them anymore that hot pockets were not out to get me enough I just haven't been sleeping enough them and too stressed out from a medical program I pulled into my driveway my stomach absolutely starved every day after passing those billboards it was ridiculous but I was hauling them I could make my own dinner well order out if I was feeling lazy I would make my dinner sit down put on a movie and just relax I barely noticed it at first because I was too busy skyping at my food to trying while the pains in my stomach but the more I aid but less and less I was able to taste it each passing day had had more and more spices he created with my dinners order something new off a menu from a place I'd never been to before but he's time I ate it all I could taste was bland almost cardboard flavored nothing tasted good and nothing smelled good I stopped being able to sleep another month after that my dreams were invaded by hot pockets and memories I'd had with them I'd wake up in a sweat and he dreamt about the first time I ever eat a hot pocket I was 12 and I had just come home from work yes my mom was leaving for her shift at the hospital he opened the freezer and to cut the box of hot pockets I'd he had hidden from her and told me that it would be our secret and we could do this as much as we wanted as long as we didn't tell her when 12 year old self remembers him tastings so much better than my adult self remember them maybe the situational maybe hot pockets just tasted better when you weren't supposed to be having them I don't know a bond I leave up in the middle of the night to my stomach Bernie Mezo heading on to bed with a full stomach before every night I would dream about hot pockets and every night I'd wake up starving every night I would get less and less sleep and eventually I'd just stop trying to sleep I'd study my books my notes anything to keep myself occupied enough to forget the ache in my gut or the happiness of my eyelids when I can no longer read the print of my papers every third commercial was for hot pockets I don't know why I just didn't go talk to someone I don't know why I didn't make an appointment for some psychiatric treat me because I clearly was going insane it's night for a week every third commercial on every station was for Hot Pockets and then the next week every second commercial on the week after that every commercial that stopped going to class I had stopped sleeping and I stopped eating I'd stop going to work my boss called me that day that I hadn't showed up my eyes were still glued to the TV screen now only playing the hot pocket commercial I'm a continuous lube my phone rang it was a welcoming relief from the static jingle of the television and answered it nervously I was expecting to hear my boss's shrill voice on the end of the line berating me about how to straight hit I've been lately and how she wasn't going to tolerate my lazy behavior anymore but it never came instead my phone played static with the soft and coherent melody in the background then the melody grew louder and louder hotpokket hotpokket hotpokket i threw my phone as far away from me as I could gripping my hair and cleaning up myself under the hardwood floor it was the real estate agents fault it had to have me she was mocking me tormenting me she must have realized what an awful sale she'd made on the house and there is no other explanation I stopped on the floor holding my aching abdomen as craving tore through my body with my sobs the garbage jingle from the TV and phone continued to play I don't remember what time' was when i came to but the sky was dark there's only the globe from the TV displaying the hotpokket logo i sat up my head pounding from dehydration and i looked around for my phone to see what time it was i had to crawl over to it my body felt so heavy from starvation i'm i don't think i could have stood up to get in as soon as I touched it it rang again dreading the idea that it would play the jingle again I answered it anyway once again I heard the static n/a garbled voice speaking to me I couldn't understand what it was saying and I checked the number but I didn't recognize it the garbled voice continued speaking I begged pleaded sob to it and hope said it would reverse whatever curse I had brought upon myself but then the voice went silent the TV went silent M the world had gone silent I don't remember how I got to the real estate office or I busted down the door to the Realtors office or how the place caught fire the police asked all these questions but I was twinge shy to remember how any of it had happened they took me to a hospital that night straight to the psych department where I met with several social workers and doctors I could see the look in their eyes when I told them about my hot pocket conspiracy how I'd somehow sold my sanity for a house and can every Hot Pockets again they admitted me in the doctor who gave me the paperwork to sign for consent of treatment had the warmest honey brown eyes [Music] [Music]

Channel: Mr. Creeps

Views: 48,790

Rating: 4.7482519 out of 5

Keywords: creepypasta, audiobook, narration, scary story, creepy story, creepypasta narration, nosleep

Id: -_Hdypevavo

Length: 13min 4sec (784 seconds)

Published: Thu Mar 08 2018