Original Creepypasta: The Children Upstairs

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My name is Travish. Travish DeGroot. I used to live in the South-East part of Teufort in a small flat not far away from the downtown. I say 'lived', because I moved out a month ago to live at my Mum's again. My flat was a nice place but… I can't go back there anymore –not that I would want to ever again…

It was somewhere during May; I had decided to take a week off. Since I lived alone I spent most of my time lazing around on the couch comfortably. I remember one morning; watching TV absentmindedly when I heard heavy stamping noises and children's voices from above me. It sounded like they had two kids up there. The place where I lived was a large apartment block but the neighbors were usually very quiet; the children's voices, therefore, echoed loudly in contrast to the ambient quietness. But I didn't feel annoyed. I always found it eerie when the silence became too overwhelming.

The next day, I wasn't motivated to cook anything so I decided to order some pizza. They arrived in barely 30 minutes. Feeling really hungry I had ordered two of them; but in the end it turned to be too much for me and I left one untouched, still hot pizza. I figured I could probably just keep it for dinner, before I remembered the two kids upstairs and decided to take it to them. After all, eating only pizza for the day wasn't too healthy.

I'd seen the occupants once or twice maybe: a family of four; a married couple and their two adopted kids. I rang the doorbell and heard something stir inside, but there was no answer. I rang the bell again and felt as if someone was looking at me through the peephole. "Who is it?" A faint voice called out from behind the door.

I said I was from the room below and had some pizza left from my lunch, and wondered if they wanted it. The door opened a little. It looked unusually dark inside the room. The gap was just a few inches wide and a young man with a light blue balaclava appeared, revealing only half of his face. "Thank you very much. But we don't want it," the man said coldly. It was a little too dark to discern his facial expression. I suddenly felt a bit weird and out of place, like I shouldn't be there; but I still tried to explain that I wanted to give the pizza to the children.

A lukewarm air breezed out of the door. I remember finding it… Unpleasant, and fetid. In an instant two children's faces lined up below the man's face. The door was still open just a little. The dull eyes of the children stared at me. The three faces were forming a line.

"I see…. then… I will accept your kindness." The man said. When I put the pizza box through the gap a hand reached out right from the side and snatched it away.

The three faces were still staring at me. "Thank you….." I heard the faint voice again. I quickly left the place. I felt utterly spooked. In the corner of my mind I could just feel something was wrong. The image of the children's faces still stuck with me. Faces….. I felt a chill run down my spine. Faces…They were forming a line… I began to walk faster. I needed to get away as fast as I could. I waited for the elevator but it simply wouldn't arrive. Forming a line…Vertically…On top of each other….. I began hammering the button with my thumb, but the lift still did not come. I turned to the emergency stairs. My head was throbbing with pain and I was beginning to feel nauseous.

Just when I opened the heavy door leading to the emergency stairs, I felt eyes on my back. I turned around and saw, a few feet away, the same three faces looking at me from the corner of the corridor. Like before, they were showing only the half of their faces and staring at me with their dull, empty eyes. The cold day light shining through the windows illuminated their faces.

I almost screamed and ran down the emergency stairs. I was so terrified; I felt as if I would never reach the ground floor. Faces lined up, on top of each other…That was impossible…That meant there were…No bodies…And the strange things I saw behind the faces were…Hands…..Holding up the heads…

I ran into the nearest convenience store; busting through the door and begged the people there to call the police.

The police came, and searched the flat - and found the bodies of the man with the blue balaclava and the two children in the bath tub. Headless.

Apparently it had been a full three days since the heads had been chopped off the bodies.

And the husband, a young Australian man who turned out to be the murderer, was found hiding in the wardrobe – completely insane. He cried and insisted his family was still alive. He screamed and thrashed and yelled and shouted helplessly as the cops dragged him out of the apartment.

As they shoved them into the police car, I saw the terror in his eyes.

The terror.

I moved out not long after.

I don't want to go there, ever again.