Tag: creepypasta

“So I’m trapped on this island until human-kind forgets about me?” cried Meria. “I’ve been here for fifty years. Surely they can’t still remember me.”

“They’d almost forgotten,” said Lucy. “But your mother, who you murdered for just £12, was a good friend of mine. About the only human, I ever loved. So imagine my delight when I sold my story to a film studio a few weeks back.”

Meria let out a howl as Lucy’s body turned to smoke. As the wind picked up and lifted her off the island, she noted, “I hear there’s going to be a book too.”

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“So, why am I here?” asked Meria. “Why have I been stuck on this island for as long as I can remember?”

“Sometimes the dead and their ideas, hopes and dreams can live on in the world between the living and dead until they’re forgotten entirely,” replied Lucy.

“What’s that got to do with me?” asked Meria.

“Well, first of all, you’re dead,” replied Lucy. “Furthermore, you’ve been remembered for over fifty years for the murder of your mother.”

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“I don’t want you here,” growled Meria.

“Well, you’re stuck with me,” laughed Lucy. “My wife just left me on account of my obsession with cricket.”

“Should I care?” asked Meria.

“No,” replied Lucy. “It just really hit me for six.”

“Why did you come to this island?” asked Meria.

Lucy reached for a bottle of whisky and grinned.

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Meria kicked the pub’s door open and dragged her haul inside.

“Well, this is grim,” chuckled Lucy flicking the light switch. “Bulbs have gone?”

“Times are hard here,” sighed Meria. “There’s no money on this island and the electricity abandoned the supply years ago.”

“Well,” smirked Lucy, “these are dark times

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“This is one cold and barren island,” remarked Lucy.

“It has sea birds, sheep and fish,” replied Meria.

“Not much intelligent life here,” grinned Lucy.

“The dolphins are about as smart as life gets here,” growled Meria, “and that suits me fine.”

“That’s all well and good until you need to clean a pod them,” chuckled Lucy. “I doubt you have many multi-porpoise cleaners on this rock.”

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“That’d make a good photo,” remarked Lucy.

“Only for some motivational social media crap,” snorted Meria.

“I like clouds,” pondered Lucy. “I wrote a play about five clouds. On the opening night, the director added a sixth cloud.”

Meria shook her head and pressed on.

“The stage was overcast,” grinned Lucy.

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