(First Creepy Pasta story, so fingers crossed it's good.)
Hello everyone, I have a story to tell you today. I don't expect any of you to believe it. All I'll hear is, "Oh no, another creepy pasta writer expecting us to believe his story," or some shit. But this did happen, not 24 hours ago.
So, everyone loves creepy pasta, right? Good. I was at my computer at 1 in the morning, browsing creepy pasta stories and websites. And, as it was very subtle, a faint lingering smell of vanilla ran through my room. There was only two things in this house that smelled like vanilla. One: A cake being freshly made. Or two: my mother. My mom loves anything vanilla, and it makes her happy when she smells the part.
I instantly thought of my Mom and turned around to see if she entered the room, no one was there. A bit perplexed, I left the confines of my room and into the dark house. When I reached her room, I peeked in, she was asleep soundly. I smiled and went back to the internet.
Two hours later, I grew tired, and the smell still wafted around. I got undressed to my boxers, and slid into my bed, turning off the lamp. This when things got... out of hand. While leaning back and anticipating the realm of dreams, the door to my bathroom was ajar, and pitch black. I was never afraid of the dark until then.
As if on cue to my thought of why it was so dark, a haze like fog spread from around the door, so dark that it looked like it just blended in with the darkness surrounding it. My eyes widened with horror, and I hid under my covers like a cowering six year old thinking that this would protect him. I lifted the sheets up, and there, standing at the foot of my bed, was Death. People say that Death comes in the form of a skeletal figure, in a long black cloak, with a scythe. They were right.
He stared at me for the longest moment, then he pointed at my clock. I couldn't move, I was petrified. Then, in a low tone, he said to me, "Check the time."
I turned slowly and did as he said, not wanting to anger this... being. The clock read 3:14 AM. I turned back, and he was gone. I got up and turned on my lamp quickly. The room looked exactly the same, and showed no indication that Death stood here. I walked to the place where he stood, and my eyes widened. Why did he smell like vanilla?
I ran to my Mom's room, and she was gone.
My heart sank, and then, I realized the smell of nothingness stung my nostirls as I tried to put the pieces together. I do not know where my Mother is now. If Death took her, then I am alone now. No one here to comfort me, or even to talk to. I am alone in this house, the smell of vanilla no longer present, and probably will never be again. Template:Sort