"My Grandfather Knew Why We Run from the Dark" Creepypasta

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I had always admired my grandfather's courage he had fought in the war on what we nowadays think of as the wrong side but he had never been a believer in the cause sometimes a rifle is pressed in your hand and your choice is to either fire and worry about being shot from the front or not to fire and be sure that you'll be shot from behind he was young when he was drafted barely 16 before he left he gave his first kiss and a promise to a girl she waited five years until the end of the war surviving on just five or six letters that she kept his treasure the war ended but even the defeat was celebrated not openly but in the hearts and eyes of the people people never wage war it is politicians that wage war no soldier that ever stood in the line of a rifle believes that war his heroic only those divorced from reality those that sit in tidy offices those dream of war soldiers came home with thin bodies and bandaged limbs they hugged their wives and women before they fell under beds and relived the front in dreams that made them toss and turn and wake up from their own screams his goal watched with tears in our eyes while his sister and mother each welcomed their men home she heard the men scream at night and each scream lodged in a stone in a throat she prayed that the man she had kissed did not have to scream and then she prayed that the man she kissed was still alive enough to scream then she prayed for forgiveness for her selfishness the other men when they came were often so thin that their women when they welcomed them were scared of hugging them too tightly for their spines or ribs might break especially those that came from the east within the skin of their faces sunken into their cheeks two years after the war a scarecrow knocked on a door an old man for tea at least the arms thin like bare bones a hardened dirty beard that had long stopped growing for want of nutrition and his skin a grey with blue and black patches his lips stretched into a black tooth smile she stepped back into the house the door was closing fast wait he said it's me even after a hot meal and shower and shave she still recognized nothing except his eyes in the shape of his nose it took two weeks before she thought that he was true and another two before she was sure sometimes on those days where she took him along to the market the seller's called him her father the man in the leather chair had to ask her twice and then demand another witness to make sure that he was the man he claimed to be and not his father or uncle or another older relative the war had stolen his youth when my grandfather spoke about the war he never spoke about his experiences he spoke in the abstract the way you speak about a movie or a book not even the way you speak about history they were overrun hundreds of kilometers there was no resistance at all the general winter as the Russians called it attacked the troops still got further there were villages poor people it wasn't a choice the supplies weren't coming everything was taken all those that didn't run was shot sometimes he talked about the early phases of the war when everybody was hopeful when things were going far too well and easy he always said not with pride but in a matter-of-fact way that the war would have been won if it had been against one or two or five countries rather than half the civilized world but my grandfather refused to speak about things that happened at the end and after the war when he was asked he didn't reply he only shook his head and looked away my grandmother said that she heard strange things when he was asleep she heard him begging for food and water for a blanket she heard him beg that someone stopped she heard him beg that someone letting go she heard him beg for forgiveness as long as I can remember I asked my grandfather about the war despite his warnings for me those were stories of adventure and courage I only heard when he spoke about trenches and gunfire not when he spoke about catching rats or food and drying pot of water and trousers so soiled that it was better to rub them clean with mud and dry them in the rare mounts of Sun than to leave them as they were I didn't understand that my questions hurt him that I forced him to relive a time that he would have given an arm to forget and yet all those times when I made him tell stories in his odd unemotional and descriptive way he refused to speak about the end once I baited him enough to say that he did not remember how he got a home sometimes riding on trains and sometimes by foot but always just following the direction of the Setting Sun until he stumbled upon street signs that he finally could read he came from far in the east places he either did not remember or did not want to remember and every time I asked his stories ended with a village that they pillaged where they condemned men and women and children to death because they themselves did not know how else they survived as said I always admired my grandfather for his courage he paid that war in his youth and on his return decided that for this heavy price he at least wanted to be a good man I could recount countless times when I saw him an old man by then chase down Young Rascals at an egg de house or stolen a handbag he jumped in when neighbours needed help he passed the burning house and thought he heard a child caught still inside he told me to stay where I was and without a thought slammed his shoulder into the door until it broke from its hinges and he himself disappeared in black smoke in the end there was no child that needed to be saved my mother called him a fool for breaking his shoulder like that for me he was a hero my grandfather taught me that we all dream of being courageous but that very few of us take our chance to be a hero when it is offered to us in our lives we pass countless times where we could save but we drive past and look for excuses I have to hurry home it didn't look that bad others were helping already being scared and comfortable is easier than being courageous and to make ourselves feel good we imagine that heroic acts we would have done if we had had the time or if it had been that bad or if others hadn't been there there was only one thing my grandfather was scared of dark rooms the house at a basement but they rarely if ever used it there were strong lights installed and the light switch was outside the basement door but there was nothing inside except for old furniture never to be used again and a few old tires that should someday have made a swing my grandmother did not mind entering the basement but he forbade her to use it there are things he said that live in such darkness at night you made sure that everyone else was upstairs and in their rooms he turned the flashlight on and the living room lights off and faster than he should have moved in his age hastened up the stairs the guest room was right next to their bedroom so many times and years I heard him run up those stairs slam the door and breathe heavy air into his lungs my grandmother never complained she never told him that he had to stop or that he was risking his life she understood she knew he had told her my father's parents had died in a car accident when I was young for me they are a hazy memory more photos than people that might be why my mother's parents were so important for me they were my personal grandparents the ones I had and the ones I loved they had always been very healthy when I was young my grandfather still ran and played soccer with me but in the last few years their age was beginning to take its toll I noticed that they lost their ability to focus then their ability to remember recent events then their ability to remember me my grandmother and grandfather still followed their routine they cared for themselves and didn't need our help except for tax matters and other administrative duties that some government official had decided needed to be complicated my parents visited often to make sure that the house was in order and food in the fridge they kept me updated on my grandparents his health and happiness for Christmas I finally managed the visit it's not a nice thing to admit but my parents and I with my mother as a parents only child and me as my parents only child made sure to be there and not have any other plans because we thought it might be the last Christmas that we would have together a family I was happy to see them and hug them again I felt guilty in a way that I hadn't provided any great-grandchildren yet and had not even a girlfriend or wife to present I was surprised how confused they were that they did not remember who I was my grandparents did not seem to remember my parents whose names either but they still recognized their faces I was a stranger face and name alike and during the meals and songs and conversations I felt as if I was an intruder in bygone lives that they were reliving with classy eyes it was the 26th of December my parents and grandmother went to see the Christmas market I stayed home with my grandfather and his aching knee to drink tea and play Scrabble I was in the kitchen when he called out son with the teapot I walked back into their living room he sat in his armchair upright his eyes suddenly clear and right and mine son he said again loud and forceful yes make sure the lights are on sure grandpa I walked towards a light switch his eyes followed me they come when the lights are rough he said you know that right I'm not sure who comes but I'll keep the lights on for you they his voice was not frail anymore it thundered through the room they come those things I told you about them I turned on the light I don't think you told me I said I'm not sure what you mean don't fool me boy I'm sorry I really don't know what you mean Oh I told you I know I told you I taught you to keep the lights on you told me to keep the lights on but you never told me why there was anger in his face why why I saw them I saw what they do to us and you doubt me you saw things in the dark three years I saw them three years they held me and the others I never heard about that oh he said then you should that evening in less than 20 minutes my grandfather told me about his last years at the front one year before the war ended they were ordered to retreat they fled in small groups through the countryside they pillaged and burned just weeks before past houses with the frozen dead still inside there was a church he said a large old church made of stone it was the only building still intact in the village the only place that seek shelter from the wind and cold they made a fire with the old church benches and sank into their sleep right next to it seven men in total two injured and moaning and the other five just scared and weak my grandfather said he woke up from the screams all around him the room was pitch black the stone floor was moving under his body he struggled to get on his feet and only then realized that his feet were being held the floor was still his feet were being pulled then he to screed he said they were pulled downstairs his weapon and knife were gone then he heard more people moaning and screaming a suffocating stench punched into his lungs he was thrown into a heap of warm bodies something Betty's leg and he kicked and a man screamed in pain the room was pitch black another man was thrown on him a door fell shut and was locked he said they moved away from the heap of bodies but the cold soon drove own closer together every few minutes somebody screamed he could hear flesh ripping and teeth grinding he said it must have been hundreds of people he said they tried to hammer against the metal door and scream for help the voice of an old man laughed at them from behind he said in broken German that the door was thick and nobody there could hear them but once every while the door opened something dark moved inside and when it came inside the room grew cold and the humans moved closer to one another my grandfather said he felt the energy being drained from his body and a panic and dread rise in his soul soon the dread started even before the door opened they all adapted there was no problem with water it ran occasionally down the walls and if it was not licked off it accumulated on the floor to join with a lays of excrement and sweat he said that he tried to hold out but that after days of hunger you choose desperate measures he said that he had never killed one bear that he only took pieces from those that had died or at least those that he thought had died every few days more were thrown into the room every few days there was a struggle some of the old against some of them knew they tried to stay together the brothers in arms that had fought together but soon that two broke apart he said that someday the number of new people started decreasing there were only a rare few and the numbers in the room dwindled he sat for most of the time on a highest owned one that the others seemed to not have found he only climbed down when he knew that a struggle had ended that one was dead that something could be eaten but no matter the struggles every time that the dread came and the door opened they all huddled together they all felt the same exhaustion and cold and panic in their souls and then one day long after no more new people arrived when only three or four of them were left there were footsteps outside he was scared because he didn't feel dread the door opened and a man with a torch stood there a gun fell from his hand and his mouth opened and he ran and scrambled up the stairs and he threw out while running the door was open there was a glimmer of light from upstairs that was how my grandfather left he said he didn't turn to look who or what he left behind something behind him scrambled up the stairs too but he was the first to get out and he was the first to reach the forest and eat grass and bugs and other things he found close to the ground he found a piece of cloth first then a ruttin uniform on a corpse and later when he had scrambled far enough and when his strength returned he found a village installed a dry uniform from a laundry line and a bag of potatoes from the same place I don't know what they are he said but they live from the warmth and spirit we leave behind I nodded they live off us he said do you understand they need you to exist they want to catch you they want to drain you they want you to forget about the light the light I asked yes he said the light they held us in the darkness three years they drained me and lived off me and made me do things I don't even want to think again he cleared his throat and he said I know what dread feels like it is not like any other it is at the core of your being you feel it in your spine and back and gut three years I felt it and after that it never went away it never went away of course it didn't he said because they always stay they always wait they will always be there consuming what spirit you leave behind and hoping that one day you become careless that you forget about the light and then they strike I glimpsed outside where the world was slowly turning gray they are here right now my grandfather nodded they wait he said they come and consume what we leave but they hope for more they hope that one of us grows careless and ignores the dread they wait until one of us stays when the room is dark he said quietly his eyes meeting mine okay I finally said good he said he nodded silently then looked outside a moment later his eyes seemed glassy again are you okay I asked he turned to me and frowned who are you he asked it was the last conversation that I truly had with him since January his condition got worse he told about dead men he spoke about hunger and fear he asked for the girl that he had kissed when he was 16 and neither he nor she noticed that the girl sat right next to him patting his hand I loved my grandfather I miss him I wish I'd been there rather than a six-hour drive away and that I could have taken care of him rather than leave him alone I wish that it had been me or my parents and not the girl that waited seven years for his return that had defined him but most of all and I know that sounds cruel and wrong and selfish I wish that he would have died in his bed or in the hospital during the next day I wish so much that she didn't have to find him in the morning on the living room floor with a flashlight off and his mouth wide open you

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Channel: CreepsMcPasta

Views: 606,831

Rating: 4.8877549 out of 5

Keywords: creepy pasta, top creepypasta, creepypasta, horror list, paranormal, horror, narration, scary, creepsmcpasta, jumpscare, scary true story, scariest video ever, horror movies, horrifying, disturbing

Id: ZSZyqY6e7qI

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Length: 23min 50sec (1430 seconds)

Published: Fri Dec 02 2016

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