spook

One day, in a sunny November, I decided for literally no reason to go to a flea market that I found through the deep web which I found through Etika. I came across a fuckin old man who was gay and he offered me a CD-ROM. Initially, I said to him, “fuck off mate,” but as he persisted that I take bofa deez CDs off of his hands, I finally went, “alright, fuck you, I’ll take ‘em.”
When I got home from the place where I just was, I checked out the CDs because of course. The first one had written in sharpie in a hyper realistic blood colour ‘Dame tu cosita at 3AM in Hotline Miami 2’. I thought nothing of this, because I love El Chombo. However, I was quite startle shocked by the words that I perceived on the second disc, which were ‘good mashup by Xx_DeathGrips69Fan_xX and DestructiveDinosaur.’ I shat myself. It was messy. I was cleaning up for like 45 minutes because it made me scared somehow. Ew! Anyways, after detailing that embarrassing series of events, I proceeded to place the CD carefully into my Windows Vista computer through a series of machines that I purchased from a drug dealer.
What bothered me the most about this track on the CD is that when Windows Media Player loaded, the album cover wasn’t centred correctly, which caused me to back off of my chair aggressively while shouting ‘MEWTWO!’ Then, I started to listen to this work of art. However, what I expected to be a classical 12 piece of orchestral beauty turned out the most agonising and spooky 12 minutes of my life. A guitar loop started playing, but it looked over and over and over and over and over and over again. It was shocking! Nothing ever happened, which was the scariest part. However, at the very end, Steve Harwell shouted down my ear drums so hard that they blew up and destroyed the entire country I’m living in. And also I shat myself into the ocean.
After that shit happened (literally), my skin died. Aw shit! I’m now at a bag of fucking muscles sitting at my computer typing up this traumatic event. However, the worst part, and the part that will always haunt me, is that I never found the Dame tu cosita CD, so I never got a chance to say goodbye to my wife (the alien, y’know). After searching around the deep web where Etika found the flea market place, I learnt that many other people had faced the same fate of shitting, losing their skin and having their countries deaded. One frequent member, Niko Bellic, explained how the sample came from a Citrus Daemon song. I’m scared. If you ever see a fuckan gay old man selling this trash, murder him. Otherwise, you too may be a victim of bad looping guitar samples that you hate and make you want to die.
The end.

(P.S. this is my first creepypasta, what did you guys think? I think I’m a natural)

(P.P.S. No I didn’t actually write this piece of shit unironically)

(P.P.A.P. This transcript isn't entirely accurate as some wording changes and additions were made by the narrator)