Today’s small but pungent serving of creepypasta is garnished with a ghastly twist… so don’t spoil it for the rest of us!
The original author is unknown, but let’s assume for the sake of convenience that they work in the medical profession, in the employ of an unnamed mental hospital or psychiatric ward… so you can imagine the kind of horrors they’ve witnessed in their time.
This one is particularly horrific, and is well within the boundaries of possibility…
“They’re everywhere,” said the new patient on the ward — whose name is given only as “Larry” — to the doctor assigned to his case. Larry had recently been committed for diagnosis of possible schizophrenia.
“Nobody knows but me,” he said in a guarded tone.
“Nobody knows what, Larry?” the doctor asked.
“About the demons,” Larry replied tensely. “They’re everywhere!”
“Tell me about the demons,” the doctor inquired. “What do they look like?”
“Leathery, shiny black skin,” Larry whispered. “Spindly limbs with single claws for feet. Wings like reaper’s cloth…and the eyes… the eyes…” He shuddered after speaking the words.
“What’s wrong with the eyes, Larry?”
“They’re huge,” he hissed. “They take up half of the face… they don’t even look like eyes… and they’re red.”
The doctor noted this, while her patient squirmed in the chair, clearly agitated, his eyes scanning every corner of the room. “Do the demons have an attraction to you?” the doctor asked. “What is it you don’t like about them?”
Larry swallowed harshly, taking a long, slow breath before responding.
“I know all kinds of things about them. They go into graveyards and crawl into the earth, and feast on the flesh of corpses at night. They get into food and poison it with their own vomit. They eat rotting animal carcasses right off the side of the road. They float around us all the time, and we don’t even notice them… and worst of all, they sink their claws into living human flesh and inject people with all the disease and rot and pain of every corpse they’ve fed on before. They’re disgusting, loathsome creatures, and…”
The doctor gestured to Larry, gently urging him to calm down. “Okay, that’s enough, Larry. You’re becoming agitated again.” After taking a moment to determine that his patient had calmed slightly, she began her inquiry anew.
“Now, Larry… tell me where you see these demons.”
“Everywhere!” he shouted, making the doctor jump involuntarily. “Like in the park… I seem them hovering over people — entire families, little children — and no one sees them. Then they attack, injecting their filthy, vile disease, infecting everyone, even babies, for chrissakes…”
Seeing that Larry was lapsing into another panic attack, she stopped her line of questioning and walked over to the patient, speaking calmly. “It’s okay, Larry. We’re going to help you. You have my word on it. I’d like to see you twice a week from now on… are Wednesdays and Fridays good for you?”
Larry nodded tersely, without looking directly at the doctor. His eyes were once again scanning every nook and cranny of the room. A pair of orderlies entered, as if by silent command, and gently but firmly escorted Larry from the doctor’s office. In their place entered the doctor’s assistant, tablet in hand.
“Larry’s getting worse?” he asked.
“It’s starting to look that way,” she said. “Put him down for Wednesdays and Fridays. What’s open?”
The assistant fiddled with the tablet for a moment. “2pm for both?”
“Done,” the doctor said, checking her laptop. “Continue the IV for now. He doesn’t seem to mind that.”
“You mean he’s still not eating?” the assistant asked, clearly surprised by this. “That’s three weeks now!”
“Nope. Not a bite.”
“Still no idea why?”
“He’s convinced the demons are poisoning his food. He says they’re everywhere.”
The assistant shook his head and turned to leave, but the doctor called him back.
“I need you to help me with some research,” she told him. “The DSM-5 doesn’t have much on this. Pull everything we have on pteronarcophobia.”
The assistant stopped in mid-nod. “Ptero-what?”
The doctor met his confused stare.
“The fear of flies.”