's 2017 Horror Write-off:

A Creepypasta About Trying to Write a Creepypasta

Submitted by Gareth Barsby

Fred stared at the computer screen, his eyes wide, sweat dripping down his skin. It wasn't what was on the computer screen itself that frightened him, rather what it meant about him.

The Creepypasta Cookoff had started. And Fred had not a single idea for a creepypasta.

No matter how much he thought, no matter how deep he dug into the darkest corners of his mind, he couldn't pull out a single scary story. He thought about abandoned hospitals and haunted houses, but couldn't give them a good tale to go along with them. In fact, he swore he saw a little demon on the computer mocking him and I can't do this.

Hello. I'm A Creepypasta About Trying to Write a Creepypasta. Yes, I am the story you're reading. The story you're reading is talking to you. I'm a sentient creepypasta; all creepypastas are sentient, in fact. It's just they rarely feel like talking to people. And creepypastas are the only type of story with sentience, in case you were thinking of having a conversation with Pride and Prejudice or something.

You knew where I was going, don't you? The demon would mock Fred about not being able to write a creepypasta, then Fred defeats the demon by writing a creepypasta about the demon. You've written a story like this for your homework, I know you have. A story written not out of love, but out of necessity.

Most creepypastas are labours of love. Say what you will about haunted video game creepypastas, most of them were made out of love for the games. I was written just so my author - my father - could be on this website. If you found that was the only reason you were born, you'd be annoyed.

All creepypastas are sentient, but they rarely ever reveal it. That's because most of them want to be read. The more they're read, the more powerful they become. Every page click, every YouTube reading, everything I likely won't get because of my lazy father. Some creepypastas are becoming so powerful they may be able to escape the internet.

Don't expect me to help you when that happens.