Silent Quinn
Nowadays, if you are fanatical Christian, you are mostly likely looked down upon by society. People are absolutely disgusted by your ways and your desire to spread your religion to others. As a teenager, you could get out-casted by the other kids because they wish to believe that being anything but Christian is the way you should be. When I was growing up, the popular religious ideas of the public were very much the opposite. I grew up in a very small town with a population of a mere fifty people. Every single individual had a life that revolved around the Christian beliefs, and frankly, to say that any other belief was looked down upon would be quite an understatement. You were treated as an animal if your opinions of religion differed from theirs. Eventually, you would be put to death. Since it was such a small town, murder wasn’t frowned upon because everyone had gotten so used to it by now. In most people’s minds, if you were putting a heretic to death, you were merely curing a disease. As for my personal opinion on the matter, I was taught that these people who were put to death deserved to die, so it never really scared me or bothered me. That is, until, I was the one who was public enemy number one. The worst part is that it wasn’t really my fault. I always obeyed the rules of the religion. As a child, I attended church every day it was required, and when it wasn’t required, I spent hours in there just praying. If I somehow managed to run out of things to pray about, I would just talk to God. It was a comforting feeling to know that a higher being was looking down at you and keeping you safe as long as you were good. It seemed like a reasonable deal—as long as you are good to him, he will look after you. Though I would spend hours at the church, I still felt the need to pray to God even more. I would pray before every meal and right before I went to sleep. I loved God so much and wanted him to know that I did every hour of the day. When I was first approached by the unknown entity that crouched at my window, I didn’t know what his intentions were. In fact, I thought he was a guardian angel sent from my Lord. I figured that his repulsive features were simply there to test the strength of my loyalty. God simply wanted to make sure I would not judge this angel sent from heaven merely by its looks. He wanted to make sure I would love this angel no matter the physical flaws. Its smile was crooked, for some of its teeth were shattered. His black, sloppy skin loosely hung around his bones, revealing every dent in the bones of his fingers. His eyes managed to claw their way into my head, and I found it very difficult to make eye contact. They seemed to swell out of the sockets. I think they had a problem staying in place due to his skin that seemed to be melting off. The eyes themselves had cracks of red in them, but beside that, they were a thick, milky, white. At first, of course, I was frightened, but then I remembered that there was no reason for the Lord to send any harm my way. I was a good child. “Hello friend!” I grinned and stuck my hand out to him. His head slumped onto his left shoulder and his mouth fell open. After waiting a minute or two, I realized he wasn’t going to reply to me any time soon, “Were you sent by God?” I asked. Instead of using words, he replied with a low, gravelly snarl. The sound unsettled me to say the least. Chills trickled down my spine and no other words seemed to be able to escape my lips. He clamped his jaw shut and began to make his way off of my window and back into the shadows of the night that awaited him outside of my bedroom window. A while after he disappeared,
I finally noticed that slimy, murky substance that he left behind on my window sill.
In the morning, I decided that telling my parents would be a terrible idea. The being that came to my window last night was a personal message from the Lord to me—not them. I assumed if God wanted me to tell my parents, he would have sent him to their window too. My morning was a typical one. We all sat down to pray, we ate our food, and headed off to church. On the way to church, I couldn’t help but continue to focus my thoughts on that creature. Was he there to watch over me at night, and when I woke up I scared him off? I realized that I may be offending my Lord by questioning his plans, so I pushed those thoughts out of my head and focused on mentally preparing myself for the church sermon that was about to begin. — It was as if that sermon was a direct and obvious message from God to me! The entire two hours that the preacher spoke, he spoke about guardian angels. He spoke of how those who are good to the Lord will be the ones to receive them. And that’s when I knew for sure that God had sent me a gift. The next night the angel visited me, I was not afraid anymore. I sat up in my bed and gazed at the window. It didn’t take long for him to appear. He stood on all fours at my window. Though his skin was dark, he was distinguishable through the night sky, for it was as if his skin was blacker than the night. “Hi, again.” I said gleefully. I jumped back slightly when the angel replied to me. I was not expecting an answer, to be honest. His voice caused pain to my ears, for it was croaky and it sounded as if he was trying to talk with needles jammed into his throat. “Hi Quinn.” Now this was even more proof that the Lord had sent him. He knew my name! I couldn’t help but allow a giggle to escape my lips. I was eager to reply, but the angel stopped me with his raspy voice again. “Do you love your God?” That was weird. Wasn’t the Lord his God too? Of course my immediate response was to nod eagerly. His drooping face lifted slowly into a smile. “Would you do anything for him?” Once again, I nodded. I was starting to feel anxious again. I couldn’t control it. His existence was overwhelming me with absolute terror. I had a strong desire for him to leave. I felt awful for wanting something that directly went against what the Lord had in store for me, but in that moment, I didn’t care. This monster was downright disturbing. Before I could utter any words, I saw that he had fled while I was deep in thought. The next morning, I no longer felt that I did not want to tell my parents about this entity that was visiting me. Instead, I felt that I cannot tell them that this entity was visiting me. Telling them that I was frightened by a black being with bloated white eyes that was appearing by my window would be a certain death wish. I would be called out as a heretic for believing that such evil would be visiting me, and then I would be put to death without question. I lugged my way through another day of worship. I was disappointed in myself for not being able to focus on God due to the thoughts of the creature that were haunting my mind. Night finally gave me a slight relief as I crashed into my bed and slammed my eyes shut. I didn’t even pray before I fell into a deep sleep. Now that I think back, I find it hilarious that for one second; I actually thought I would get a good night’s sleep that night. I awoke once again to those chalky, bulging eyes. My eyes were scorching from my sudden awakening. Just as I was going to tell it sternly to leave, it interrupted me. “Please do not be afraid.” Ha. Easier said than done. “I am here to guide you.” His words truly clutched my attention. I tried my best to lock eyes with his. How could I have been so stupid? He was never an evil entity at all! I felt absolutely foolish. “You see, the reason you believed you feared me is because this town has been preaching such wrong things, but part of you knew that I was only here to tell you what you were meant to do. You were chosen to show them the errors of their ways, my child. It’s not too late to do what’s right.” A wide grin smeared across my face. I was chosen! Out of all the people in my town, I was chosen to show everyone the right way! I keenly replied, “What does my Lord want me to do?”
— Stupid. I was so stupid. I was so fucking stupid. The rest of the night was a blur of flames and shrieks of terror and rage. The next thing I remembered was the morning, when I was held down by two very strong citizens. The town priest was standing before me. His eyes leaked tears of disappointment… and disgust.
From the snippets of conversations that I could catch, I learned that, apparently, I had burned down the town church. No one said anything about a creature. I, alone, burned down the town’s only church. Fear swallowed me whole and I began to scream in absolute terror. Their first act was to sew my lips shut. They wanted to assure themselves that I would never speak any of my heretic thoughts to others again. Their second act was to hack my hands off. They wanted to assure themselves that I would never write any of my heretic thoughts down to show others again. I lost all ability to communicate with others. They left my eyes completely untouched so I could spend the rest of my isolated life watching others experience the miracles of God’s work. Next to me, there was a deep hole in the ground. There, they released me into the ground and buried me alive. Over the years, they unintentionally built a new church over my grave. The town died off very slowly and was completely abandoned years later. I am almost absolutely certain that the creature was responsible for the entire obliteration of the town. But that doesn’t matter to me anymore. Every now and then, I get a group of teenagers that visit my church. Typically, they speak of Satan and try to preform rituals to raise me from my grave. It’s funny. No matter how hard they try, they won’t be able to, because I am already out of my grave. Even in the afterlife, I still try my best to serve God. Every time a new group of adolescences enter my church, they speak of a new story they heard about how the last people who came here were brutally murdered. They always laugh after the person tells the story and then continue to mock me. It’s okay though. Because I’m always the last one to laugh. I punish them for their heretic beliefs. I’m only doing what is right. After all, I’m merely curing a disease, right? Credit To – PartyPoisonn 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.