While I thought today’s creepypasta would be an ideal choice for Shark Week (and it is), I have to warn you up front that it goes to some extremely disturbing places — and I’m not just talking about the deep blue nightmares of shark-infested waters. The themes addressed here are all too real for those of us who have dealt with some form of mental illness, so please proceed with caution.
The alleged source of today’s story is a journal whose pages reveal an unidentified young woman’s final years of life… years increasingly filled to overflowing with terror, despair and a faltering grip on reality.
“I can never set foot in water ever again,” begins one of the final entries. “The sharks are circling me and I can feel them biting at the heels of my sanity that is dangling over them.”
It seems the author has a severe and debilitating fear of water. Not just large bodies of water… but water itself.
“It started in my little blow up pool, when I was a kid,” she continues. “The water would ripple, yet nothing had fallen in to disturb it. It was strange. But I coped.”
The fear increased exponentially when her parents bought a house with an in-ground swimming pool. Whenever she approached the edge of the water, she claims she could hear distant voices, chanting something she couldn’t quite make out. As months passed, the voices not only continued, but became more distinct, and she swore she could eventually make out a word or two.
Needless to say, the girl avoided the pool, but that didn’t stop the voices… and then came the visions.
One night, just before stepping into the bath, she became convinced she could see a tiny shark fin circling among the suds in the tub. She ran screaming to her parents, but they dismissed it as a child’s overactive imagination.
As the years passed, she continued to cope with that image — always just at the corner of her perception — and those voices. It happened every time she came near a body of water.
It seemed to subside for a while… until she reached her early twenties, and shared an apartment with her best friend, overlooking the ocean. Far in the distance, she knew she could see shark fins above the surface… and the voices returned, though still too faint to make out the words.
Then, one night after her friend had left in a rush, she realized they had forgotten to drain the bathtub. In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, she could see the water move… and saw tiny fins circling there.
The voices were there too, echoing inside her head… and this time, she heard them clearly:
“Feed her to the sharks! Feed her to the sharks!”
She inched closer to the bathtub rim, and saw a cluster of tiny sharks swimming in the tub, their tails creating a leisurely current as they circled.
Determined to face her fears, she gradually moved toward the tub, peering inside for a closer look.
Three pygmy sharks — she describes them as “cookie cutter sharks” — swam in circles there, oblivious to her presence. No matter how many times she looked away, they were still there, and looked absolutely real. The chanting became louder, seemingly closer now:
“Feed her to the sharks! Feed her to the sharks! Feed her to the sharks!”
Counting slowly to steel her nerves, she inhaled, closed her eyes and reached down to pull the plug and drain the bath water… when something bit her arm.
Opening her eyes and recoiling in shock, she fell to the bathroom floor as waves of intense pain began to surge through her arm. She held it up and saw the bite marks, spurting blood onto the floor tiles… and slipped into unconsciousness.
She awakened in the hospital, disoriented and sedated. Her right arm was bandaged from wrist to elbow.
The doctors said she had attempted suicide by slashing open the veins in her right arm. In her unstable mental state, she began to wonder if the sharks had been a delusion. Despite the phobias which tormented her since childhood, she’d never once considered suicide.
After a lengthy period of observation and counseling in the psychiatric ward — during which she deliberately withheld any mention of the sharks or the voices — she was released and returned to her apartment. Having lost her parents in a boating accident, she had no caretakers other than her friend, who tried her best to help — though she never told the friend about what she’d seen.
The diary’s final pages indicate that the visions had not subsided by the time the author reached her late twenties… in fact, they had become considerably worse.
At this point, whenever she looked toward any large body of water — the ocean, swimming pools, a Jacuzzi, a pot on the stove, even a glass of drinking water — the fins were always there, and the water was now red with blood.
The horrible chanting continued day and night. She writes that the voices now sound “hateful,” filled with intense rage.
“FEED HER TO THE SHARKS!”
Her final entry reveals a desperate and final plan of action:
I can no longer take the constant circling of the sharks. I must confront them head on. I must and will kill these fucking sharks. I will take my butchers knife and walk down to that pool and gut every last fucking one of them. Then I will finally be at peace…
The journal I’ve quoted above was included as evidence in the young woman’s death, which was ruled as a likely suicide, given her previous hospitalization and statements from counselors at the ward.
The following text is believed to be transcribed directly from the police report:
Female, age 27. DOA. Body found in swimming pool of Silver Bay apartments, address [REDACTED]. Kitchen knife (length approx. 7 inches) retrieved from bottom of pool, matches deep lacerations at arms and throat. Cardiac arrest resulted from severe blood loss to right/left radials and carotid.
Diary found in victim’s apartment corroborates diagnosis of victim as mentally unstable. Counselors at [REDACTED] identified symptoms of incipient paranoid schizophrenia, though patient was on record as having declined drug treatment.
When questioned, victim’s friend and roommate [REDACTED] stated their behavior had become increasingly erratic over approximately the past five years, though she had not expressed suicidal thoughts.
Also found on the scene, though not initially mentioned in the police report, was a note crudely written on a small piece of steno paper, in what was later identified as the woman’s own blood.
The badly-smeared scrawl contained only five words:
“THE SHARKS HAVE BEEN FED.”