Creepypasta #1579: Look.

Length: Short

My alarm goes. This is the proud announcement that heralds
the birth of a new day: a thick, screeching cacophony.

Fuck off, I
think. I turn to the abhorrent device. The tone is cold, heavy and jarring. It
pushes. It is as though my eyes are being physically repelled from the display.
3.AM. I have not set it to wake me up at 3.AM, obviously.

I slam my
hand on the instrument, ending the torture. I slump back onto the bedsheets,
gazing up into the shapes my mind conjures onto the textured blankness of the
ceiling. My room is oppressively large. I have never noticed this before.
Looking around, I can barely see the corners. Among the piles of folded
clothes, I cannot tell blackness from darkness.

light. The bedside cabinet casts a weak glow on the ceiling. My phone is
probably notifying me of some trivial record, a person’s vapid shell which has
interacted with mine in an immaterial and inconsequential world. I seize the
device all the same.

National Government This is an open message from your government officials.
Do not, under any circumstance, look at the moon. Do not ask why.

National Goverment REPEAT: Do not look at the moon. REPEAT: Do NOT
look at the moon. It is essential that this is carried out without question.

What the fuck
is this? Why should I—

The text
messages make no sound. No noise, no vibration, nothing but the pulsation of
pixels upon the screen give them their voice.

07374636736 Wooow, the sky is beautiful tonight..

Unknown ID The moon is so beautiful, LOOK at it….

Unknown ID The moon is pretty, look.. look into the sky and
you’ll see..

08999957997 Wow the sky is amazing tonight, look at it now

Unknown ID the moon is wonderful, LOOK. NOW.

Hundreds upon
hundreds of texts and calls are flooding in. I drop the phone, push it away. Is
this some kind of joke? The government messages persist at the top of the
cascade of calls and messages. A shiver seizes me. I grab the phone and swipe a

“Hello? Who
is it?”

I hear

“Why are you
calling me? Is this some kind of joke?”

The voice is
polite, shuddering in coldness and audibly spoken through a grin. “The moon is
so pretty, don’t you think? Have a look, tell me what you think. It looks
magnificent tonight. Have a look.”

I hang up. I’ve had enough. What
the fuck is going on? I go to the curtains and throw them
open. Nothing out of the ordinary. As usual, the puny light of the streetlamps
is incomparable to the radiance of the moon, of course. Nothing is so mighty,
so beautiful, so magnificent. Trust me. It is wonderful. The moon tonight is
the most beautiful thing you will ever see. Trust me. Have a look. Look up into
the sky. It is so magnificent. The moon is so beautiful tonight.


to: Spireheist (story)