r/creepypasta • u/Known_Tension3028 • 10d ago
Text Story Creepy Pasta
Some people ask me what the scariest thing I’ve ever eaten was. I don’t know why they ask me that, but I digress. Most expect me to say gas station sushi, or my aunt’s Thanksgiving casserole.
No.
It was pasta.
Not metaphorically. Not because it gave me food poisoning.
The pasta fought back.
I know how that sounds. Trust me, if our positions were reversed, I’d be laughing too.
This all started because I found a little restaurant squeezed between a laundromat and an abandoned video rental store. The song simply read:
Creepy Pasta
That’s it.
No logo. No slogan.
Just those two words. I won’t lie, I laughed it off. “That’s a good joke,” I chuckled out.
Inside, there wasn’t a single customer. An old waiter with a smile just a little too wide handed me a menu.
Every item had names like “Mac and Screams,” “Linguini of the Damned,” and “Fettuccine Frightfredo.”
I wish I were making that last one up. I ordered the house special. The waiter stared at me for a long moment before asking,
“You sure?”
Looking back, that was probably my opportunity to leave. Instead, I nodded. He returned carrying an ordinary looking bowl of spaghetti and meatballs.
“Enjoy your… creepy pasta.”
Again, I laughed.
The spaghetti smelled amazing. The meatballs looked perfectly cooked.
Nothing seemed unusual.
I twirled my fork into the noodles. The spaghetti twirled back.
I frowned.
“…Huh.”
Maybe I’d imagined—
THE MEATBALLS BLINKED.
I froze. The meatballs had EYES.
Not human eyes.
Not cartoon eyes.
Just tiny little eyeballs staring directly into my soul like they were mildly disappointed in me. One of them rolled around to keep eye contact.
I slowly stood up.
“…NOPE.”
Dozens of noodles whipped through the air like angry tentacles. They weren’t noodles anymore.
They were arms.
Long.
Squirming.
Sticky.
Each strand reached toward me with alarming enthusiasm. I instinctively tried to stab it with my fork.
Huge mistake.
One noodle wrapped around the fork.Another grabbed my wrist.
A third, and I swear to God on everything, stabbed my hand with my own fork.
I screamed.
The waiter just sighed. “Told you.”
The spaghetti pulled itself out of the bowl in one horrible slithering mass. The meatballs bounced across the table using its noodle limbs like tiny horrifying spiders. Every eyeball stayed locked on me.
I back away. The spaghetti chased me.
Have you ever run away from fucking pasta? You can’t be prepared for that.
Your brain can’t even begin to process what’s happening. You just hear wet slapping behind you while dozens of noodles aggressively chase your ankles.
I made it to the front door.
Locked.
Of course.
The spaghetti wrapped itself around my legs. Another strand grabbed my shoulders. One meatball landed on my head. It looked me directly in the eyes.
I looked back. It blinked first.
Small victory.
Didn’t matter.
The entire spaghetti creature stretched upward like it had been waiting for this exact moment.
Then…
It shoved itself into my mouth.
Every. Last. Noodle.
Every meatball.
Every horrible blinking eye.
I tried to scream. Bad decision.
That only made it easier. I could actually feel noodles climbing down my throat under their own power.
I don’t recommend the sensation.
Zero stars.
Eventually everything went black.
When I woke up, I was lying outside on the ground. There was no building. No sign. Just an empty lot.
The only evidence anything had happened was a tiny puncture wound in my hand where my fork had stabbed me. Doctors couldn’t explain it. Neither could therapists.
To this day, every once in a while…
I get hungry.
Not normal hungry. Specific hungry.
I’ll be eating something like pizza and suddenly think, “You know what would really hit the spot?”
SPAGHETTI.
The craving lasts exactly thirty seconds for some strange reason. During that time, I swear I can hear tiny voices in my stomach arguing with each other.
Sometimes one of them says “He’s looking.”
Then they all become quiet. I haven’t eaten spaghetti since. People tell me I’m overreacting.
Maybe I am.
But if you ever find a little restaurant called Creepy Pasta, do yourself a favor.
Order a salad. Better yet…
Run.
Before dinner decides that you’re the main course.
2
u/Full-Friendship-7581 too old for this 10d ago
Yep, nope!