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This is an original creepypasta inspired by a classic urban legend.

You can listen to me reading this creepypasta here.

Heavy Metal (Original Creepypasta)06:57

Heavy Metal (Original Creepypasta)


StoryEdit

I was always a fan of punk rock and heavy metal. I grew my hair into a Mohawk which I then dyed a vibrant red. I also liked to wear spiked wristbands, a choker necklace, and a firm leather jacket. Because of this, no one approved when I started seeing my girlfriend.

She had always been daddy’s little princess, but she was growing out of that phase and she wanted a bad boy. I certainly qualified, and I could relate to the fact that her parents expected perfection from her. My parents wanted me to go to college and be a successful businessman, but all I ever wanted was to front a metal band and tour the world.


One night, she got into such a bad fight with her parents that we decided to run away together. I picked her up on my motorcycle and we hit the road, looking for a place to stay. We eventually came across a diner and stopped for a bite to eat.


Her makeup had been smeared from all the tears she had been crying. She couldn’t stand her parents anymore, but she still loved them and didn’t want to leave them. Her blonde hair was dampened by the rain that started coming down shortly after we left. As we sat there sipping coffee, the following news bulletin came on the television.


“We interrupt your scheduled programming to bring you this urgent bulletin. A dangerous serial killer has escaped from maximum security prison and is at large. He is six feet, three inches tall with dark brown hair and a beard. He weighs approximately two hundred and forty pounds and is considered extremely dangerous.”


“He has been known to go on murder sprees while under the influence of hallucinogenic drugs. His method of killing is crushing his victims’ skulls with blunt force trauma. He also suffers from pyromania, and occasionally burns his victims alive. If you can, stay inside your homes, lock your doors, and avoid strangers. If you see anyone matching this description, notify the police immediately and steer clear. We now return you to your scheduled program.”


This scared my girl so badly, she immediately wanted to leave. I told her it was no big deal and that I would protect her. Nonetheless, she wanted out so I pretended to take a cigarette break while she climbed out the window of the ladies’ room. We didn’t have much money and we didn’t want to pay for the food.


We made our way down the highway, looking for a place to stay. Eventually, we came across an abandoned steel mill. It was dark, cold, and it didn’t help her feel any better. But we were on our own now, and had nowhere else to go.


As we lied down on the cold hard floor, I gave her my jacket so she could keep warm. I knew sleep wouldn’t come easily, but it turned out not to come at all. There was a loud crash, followed by a metallic rattle. It sounded like someone else was in there with us. I got out my lighter and went to take a look.


Armed with a steel pipe, I began walking around and searching for whoever or whatever had made that noise. I was reluctant, but I figured I could handle if it turned out to be something threatening. At first, there was nothing. But I noticed what looked like a human figure over by the far wall. I called out “Is someone there?” but there was no answer. My girlfriend was huddled in fear behind me.


I moved towards where I thought the figure was, firmly clutching the pipe in my hand. All of a sudden, my lighter went out and it was pitch black. I tried re-lighting it which only produced sparks. After a few seconds, I saw a glimpse of an angry face right next to me and I was pushed to the side. I heard a loud thud and it felt like I was surrounded by metal.


My lighter flicked back on and I could see that I was in a chamber of some kind. I couldn’t see outside of it, however, until a faint light began emanating from the ceiling of the steel mill. Moments later, my girlfriend approached and she was being held hostage by a guy who I can only assume is the one they were talking about on the news.


She looked scared, so I instinctively yelled out “It’s alright, sweet pea. Everything’s gonna be okay.” Though, I had no real reason to say that other than to try and comfort her. He threw a switch and there was a buzzing noise that began coming from somewhere inside the chamber. It started to get very hot in there and I realized where I was: inside a curing oven.


He turned towards me and I got a good look at him from the neck down. He was tall, wearing work boots and denim overalls stained red with blood. He wore gloves, and had my sweetheart by the throat.


I thought I would die in that oven, but somehow I managed to force my way out. I lunged at him, but he kicked me in the head and knocked me out. I don’t know for how long, but I remember that while I was losing consciousness, he knelt down in front of me and I could see his face. He smiled at me with a devilish grin and I could see that he had only a moustache, even though the news said it was a beard.


When I came to, my girlfriend was gone and I was all alone. On my motorcycle outside, I found a note that read. “Your princess is in my castle now. What a peach!” signed “M”.

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