Gorefather
Editor’s note: This transcript is from a video that was posted by the user 1101001dontsuffer onto the video platform YouTube, but was deleted only a few days after being posted. Other users who stumbled upon the video, disturbed by the content, saved the video before its deletion (myself included). I think it’s unethical to reupload someone’s mental degradation–even if its reuploads didn’t consistently get taken down anyways–but for the sake of interest I have transcribed it. I have taken the liberty to edit out any pauses and word fillers to make for a better read. The speaker also exhibits some odd behaviors that I have interjected as they happen. One thing of note is that the video itself had a heavy visual filter, masking the speaker’s appearance, but the audio was high quality and left completely clear. I’ve included a screenshot. Speaker: I need to explain my erratic behavior the past few days. I can feel with every second that I am sinking deeper into myself and I need to say exactly what happened to me as long as I have any sense of clarity. A little over a week ago, on I think a Tuesday, I was going through the social media of some bands I listen to and trying to find out if any of them were playing concerts soon. I do this often anyways, but I was scouring for shows as most of my friends have either already started the semester or are too busy anyways to hang out. I’m on the quarter system, so I had a month to kill and no desire to spend any of it working. The timing turned out to be pretty bad as most of the bands I like had come and gone and I guess this year nobody else wanted to spend the hotter end of the season touring. After half an hour or so I’ve given up on social media and I’m onto the websites of my local venues, trying to see if any of the bills for the weekend catch my eye. The third venue I check ends up having a poster for Friday that looks interesting enough to make me do some quick research on who was playing. The openers are familiar to me- local kids who I’ve seen once or twice and enjoyed enough to see them one last time before their inevitable disbandment. They weren’t what made me stop. The headliner was someone I felt some sort of strange familiarity to yet couldn’t say if I had actually ever heard of them. They are called GOREFATHER. Editor: Anytime the speaker mentions the name of the band, he stops talking and instead inaudibly whispers something to himself, continuously, for sometimes over a minute. He then continues to speak, seemingly not noticing his pause. Speaker: Though the name itself is interesting, what caught my eye was the fact that this show was sold out. I couldn’t remember the last time any show for any venue in my area was sold out, let alone for a band I hadn’t really ever heard of before. I decided to try and find out if tickets were being resold anywhere so I could go see what was going on with them. I found cheap tickets being resold for pretty cheap, but this is also where I started to notice something a little weird about the whole thing. Buying the tickets was totally fine, it wasn’t a scam or anything, but there was somebody commenting a bunch of weird stuff under the guy’s post advertising the tickets. Editor: I believe I found these comments. They are as follows:[deleted]: DO NOT SEE THIS BAND. They are wicked and dangerous, and preach DISGUSTING non-Christian rhetoric. Their live show was truly horrifying to witness. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. [deleted]: reply to [deleted]: I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE. Speaker: I figured it was just some insane right-wing nut having a few too many. There were a lot of folks like that in my area. Sometimes if a metal band famous enough and sacreligious enough came through the area there would be a few protesters in front of the venue, so the comments didn’t really phase me- if anything they made me more excited to go to the show. They had better be good if they got these people riled up so bad. It’s funny how that works, especially looking back on the comment now. Editor: The speaker pauses here, but doesn’t start whispering- I think in this moment he is just reflecting. There’s around thirty seconds of silence save for one sniffle from him. Speaker: Anyways. Friday comes around and I get ready for the show and walk over there. Before the show I asked a few of my friends if they had ever heard of GOREFATHER but none of them had. I figured I was either about to catch a band on the rise or they were going to be just okay. Either way it was something for me to do so I was pretty excited. The theater was packed. It stunk of sweat and beer and it was already sweltering when I got in there. My fake worked so I was able to get a few drinks to try and cool me down and loosen me up. I was feeling really jittery for some reason. The openers did fine, there was some pretty bad feedback the first few songs but other than that it was okay. Nobody really seemed to pay attention to them, everybody was just talking to each other and laughing. When the second band was done, though, I felt a sort of wave wash over everybody. Throngs of people started pushing their way to the front, and I was quickly wedged between two really tall sweaty dudes so I couldn’t really go anywhere. It felt like everybody was holding their breath, their eyes fixed to the stage. After about fifteen minutes of this weird energy, the house music and lights went down. The lights went all the way off, which was really unusual and probably breaking the law. Everybody went quiet, too. The stage was empty except for a mic, I think like an original Moog Model 10 type synthesizer, a really old fucking thing, and a drum kit. There was a hum that I hadn’t really noticed before but was buzzing incessantly. I thought it might have come from one of the amps.And then the stage lights came on. And I realized that the humming was coming from the synth. I think it was playing the whole time. I didn’t even notice him walking on, but sure enough, one of the members of the band was on stage, and ready to play. I SAW HIM. He was wearing all black and his face was painted completely red. Not in a blue man group type of way- this red was ugly, and splotchy, and matted his hair. It looked a lot like dried blood. Maybe it was. I don’t know if I can really describe what happened next. I want to attribute it to the alcohol, but as time goes on it feels more and more real. The guy in front of the mic and synth starts increasing the volume, the grit of it, until it’s so loud and deep and so sickening I start to try and back up to leave, but I’m stuck. I realize that there is a drummer now, but I can’t see him. He builds tension, for I don’t know how long, until he finally lets it go with a huge kick. With it I think he let go of something else. I don’t know how else to say it. There’s a crash that doesn’t sound like a cymbal- but like the ceiling is breaking open. The floor shifts. The crowd moves and seethes like the violent waters of the ocean and I don’t know where I am or what’s going on- all I know is sound and light and movement and bile and stench. People are scrambling and pushing their way towards the front and it takes me a moment to realize that I feel like I’m slipping and falling backwards. I blindly claw my way forward, grabbing onto anyone I can touch, before I’m pulled back by someone wailing in my ear and I fall. I don’t remember anything past that. I don’t even know if I saw the band play or if I imagined it. I SAW HIM. I remember stumbling home and vomiting in the bushes outside my apartment. I was clutching my stomach. I thought it was because of the nausea but I realized pretty quickly I was in pain. There was blood soaking through my shirt. I fell asleep that night without taking off my clothes or cleaning up or anything. I was the most exhausted I’ve ever been in my life. I woke up with a hangover that viciously beat at the back of my eyeballs. The blood on my stomach had dried and when I looked in the mirror before I took a shower there was blood on my cheek, too. I don’t know if it was mine. The wound on my stomach wasn’t too bad. What worried me is that I didn’t remember how I got it. I have tried to do more research into GOREFATHER. I SAW HIM. There has been no mention of them online, anywhere, that I could find. I don’t know how so many people found out about them, but it must have been the same way I did. I am making this video because I no longer know what is real and I don’t know what else to do. The past few days have blurred into each other and I am becoming increasingly afraid. I have no idea what happened but something is really wrong with me. I can’t stop scratching at myself. The skin on my legs is raw now and I still can’t stop, even though it’s started to really hurt. I haven’t had any appetite. My headache never went away, either. I had to find a way to deal with it. I don’t know what will happen next. I don’t think I have the heart to see it through. Editor: Long pause. Speaker: There is one thing I remember from the show, before I SAW HIM. I remember hearing a few words. They were screamed, in a really grotesque way. It was the phrase “payment is due”. Editor: There is a crash off camera and the speaker violently whips his head to see it. We can see the speaker’s side profile, and we can see that his eyes, previously masked by the heavy filter, are gone. They seem to have been gouged out with a dull object. The speaker scrambles to the camera and shuts it off. There has been no mention of the band GOREFATHER before or since this recording. The user who uploaded it is still unknown and hasn’t been heard of since before its original deletion. The few comments on the video were always met with a reply of “I SAW HIM AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE”. Credit: ren01001111 Portfolio Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.