CRAPPYPASTA

For those pastas that are smelling less than fresh…


Puppet Game

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Every once in a great while, every once in a “blue moon”, some might say, a small farm in Massachusetts hosts a Gypsy fair of sorts with  puppeteers, jugglers, and all types of great fun. There is one booth however you should never, under any circumstances enter. The name of the booth is simply “Puppet Game”. This all seems harmless enough, though if you attend one of these Gypsy fairs they have a sort of aura of… suspicion, or malice. This is the very reason that you should stay far away from these fairs- they ARE malicious. They wish to bring you great harm.
Let’s put you in a hypothetical situation shall we? You notice lights and laughter off in the distance in your quiet Massachusetts suburb and decide to investigate. You walk the only trail leading to the lights and sounds. Oddly enough, the trail is already worn as if traveled for a great while by several hundred souls. You arrive at a gathering with booths and tents and traditional Gypsy foods and artwork, as you marvel at the sites of such a rag-tag set up of a sort of carnival you see a young boy dart across your peripheral vision. He dons a torn yellow tunic and has scraggly hair, wears no shoes, and appears to be lost. You begin to ask him if he is all right but he darts away again. You shrug it off as nothing more than a typical child separated from his parents.
Taking in these booths and all other Gypsy folklore, a particular booth catches your eye. “The ‘Puppet Game’” you mutter to yourself. It seems just to be a dingy old tent with a small crowd of people inside. You decide to investigate and see what the fuss is about. When you enter the booth, you are immediately struck by a feeling of impending doom and unspeakable fear, however, everyone else seems to feel just fine so you brush that feeling off as well. The site in the center of the tent, the center of attention, both shocks and unnerves you, It is an operating table with a corpse already in place. The operating table has tools you might find in a small toy shop, ball peen hammer, fish hooks, some glue but there are bloodstains on all of the equipment. You wish to leave, but it is too late. The crowd is closing in on you, you can feel it. Just out of the corner of your eye you see the little boy once again. He is wiping a tear from his eye and waving. You wave back but feel a slight tug at the center of your wrist. You look up to find a long metal wire attached with some sort of barbed fish hook through your wrist bone. The impending feeling of doom when you entered the room was actually a powerful anesthetic and numbed your body, that is when the crowd made the first addition to the new puppet master (you). You look back to the boy to see something completely different. It is a monster. Not a monster so much but a being. A being of pure, unrestricted hatred, dread, fear, and sorrow. He is smiling now, beckoning to you with his finger; you feel a tug at your finger as well. It is becoming slowly apparent to you that you are becoming this beast of unspeakable horror and dread. In the lapse of no more than four minutes you have been transformed into that same boy in the torn yellow tunic free to roam the earth until the next “blue moon” situation arises.
Now, tell me this; are you prepared to be the little boy in the yellow tunic, luring people into the Puppet Game to steal their souls as well, or will your conscience get the better of you? Don’t worry; it takes a lot of practice to get to be a master of the Puppet Game. After all, a blue moon only comes once in a lifetime…

Credit To – Owen Baker

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  • http://verizon.net Curcle

    This could be better. Not worse than a lot of other creepypastas


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