This isn’t just the story of how I met a Creepypasta, its how I discovered the fandom all together. Two years ago, I woke up at 3 am, having to go pee.As I reached for the doorknob. I heard the sound a cat makes when it’s about to get into a turf war. It scared the s**t out of me because I didn’t have a cat, and there was no way for one to get in. It was right outside my door.
I waited for like ten minutes of silence but I was that dumbass in every horror movie who blamed it on my imagination at three am so. I turned the door knob. Walked out into the kitchen which had a straight view into both the living room. And the kitchen. As soon as I looked into the living room however. I immediately got the worst feeling ever and couldn’t move. Basically, Sleep paralysis. But I was standing. In the middle of my living room. Was a f*****g wyndigo. Yea. It was a wyndigo. I watch supernatural, sleepy hollow, I read native American legends I know what they f*****g look like. The fiery eyes, Long serrated claws, torn skin, jagged teeth, and skinny frail body.
It just f*****g sat there. Eyeing me like a stalker or a r****t would with that sadistic glare. It felt like hours but it was only like ten minutes. Eventually. It stood up. It was like 6 feet tall. My stomach curled as it tilted it’s head. Crouched down. And as if distracted it sprinted to the left. Out my door. I dropped to my knees. Got up and hauled a*s back to my room.
I know how smart those things are. I didn’t waste time.Big a*s cabinet bedroom door bed with frame- in front of window Dresser and nightstand In front of other window, Door locked. Kabar knife in hand, a collectible I bought at a flea market. Waiting. One 3 weeks later. I left to go to school. As I turned around before opening the door. It lunged at me. I slammed the door in its face.No thud. Either it stopped in mid-air or it wasn’t real. A year of this s**t later. It finally stopped. I realised it had all these opportunities to kill me but it didn’t. Despite they’re fabled hunger. I don’t think it was trying to kill me. Last year when I decided to do some research and a few well placed key words I found the rake. The wyndigo that pushes you over the edge. He wasn’t trying to kill me. He was trying to put fear in me. I survived. I guess horror movies do help you prepare for the real thing. jokes on him though, I don’t believe in suicide. I believe in xanax.
