I’m writing this document as part of my psychotherapy ‘homework’ assigned by my school’s counselor, Dr. Lauda. It’s supposed to stay between me and her, but I’m posting it here because…
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My friends and I played Creep.
The rules of the game are simple:
Go to a place once inhabited by humans, but now abandoned.
The game doesn’t have to be played at night, but it’s better that way.
Of course, you can’t play the game alone. You need four people. In our case, it was me, Chris, Mindy, and Mandy. Chris had the bright idea to invite them because they were twins, and to hear him tell it, if he could bag one, I could get the other. For my part, I think Mandy liked me. Or maybe it was Mindy. I kept getting them mixed up.
A scary game would give us a chance to be big tough guys, and sure enough they’d be clinging to us by the end of the night. The bored expression on Mindy’s? face said otherwise.
“Can we start this stupid game already?” she asked.
We’d gathered in an apartment complex. It was recently built, in near-perfect condition, but something kept them from moving people in. Apparently, the builders skipped a step here, cut a corner there, in the development, and suddenly the whole place was unsafe. Of course, keeping it empty fueled rumors of hauntings.
And, to the place’s credit, some people had gone missing in the vicinity.
We went over the rules one more time:
Circle the place 3 times to be sure you’re alone.
In the center of the apartment complex was a square courtyard, surrounded on all four sides by two story buildings. There were five units on the second story of each building, and four on the ground level (with a hallway to account for passage between the courtyard and the outside world, or up to the second level). A fountain, dry and empty, occupied the very center of the courtyard. Much like the surrounding buildings, it had two tiers- a small bowl about waist height, and the base pool about curb height from the ground. By the look of debris, it seemed that the homeless had been squatting in the area; it wasn’t clear if that was still true, but if they’d left, they had left belongings behind.
We walked around the courtyard together; I was nervous, but it wasn’t the dilapidated remains of human belongings, nor the patches of dead, withered grass. It wasn’t the game, either. After all, it was obviously just some rumor, right? No, my unease came from something much simpler, though no less primal.
I wanted to hold Mindy- or was it Mandy’s—hand.
If the twins were scared, they didn’t show it. I counted the footsteps it took to circle the whole thing, mostly to distract myself.
Open any doors and/or windows, if applicable.
Did the windows in the buildings count? If we were playing in the courtyard, it didn’t matter, did it? Still, Chris insisted that we do it, ‘just in case’ I figured it gave us more chances to flirt with the twins, maybe make a move in a building…
We didn’t.
It was tedious trekking through all of the buildings, but fortunately they were small enough studios, which meant we only had to open two windows per, and the front doors of the units, of course.
Set the offerings in the center.
The offerings were supposed to be something that represented each person- four pieces. Mindy and Mandy produced identical bracelets- both were little beaded things, one orange, one green.
Man, you two should wear those more often,” Chris joked. “That way we can always tell you apart.”
“Ha Ha,” I think it was Mandy who rolled her eyes.
“Never heard anything like that before,” Mindy? Added.
“I can tell you apart,” I lied.
They both looked at me.
Chris cleared his throat and set something small and bronze in the center. It looked like a lid.
“What is that?” I asked.
Chris shrugged. “My brother snagged some Urn in an old burnt out house a few weeks ago. I thought it was cool, so I’m borrowing the lid.”
“What about you, Franklin?” one of the twins asked.
I pulled a lighter from my pocket. I didn’t smoke or anything, but if they thought I did, they’d think I was cool, right?
Both twins wrinkled their noses at me. So much for that.
Light Four Candles.
Two bracelets, a lid, a lighter. Our offerings were in place. Chris set out four candles and we all lit them. Guess whose lighter came in handy after all?
Say the Chant:
We gathered around our candles, which in turn sat around our offerings.
“One, Two, Three, Four,” we all chanted together. “Do the creepers want one more?”
It felt foolish shouting this aloud to the empty space. Still…”Five, Six Seven, Eight,–”
“– Loser gets the creeper fate!”
While we stood there in the silence, awkwardly exchanging glances, I thought about the rest of the rules. Supposedly, we had just summoned beings from…somewhere… and we were playing against them for our survival. If we won, well, we got to live. If they won…. Well, what did the chant mean by ‘The Creeper Fate’ exactly?
In any case, we were supposed to stay as silent as possible. If we heard a sound, we could call out the creepers.
However, if it was a name we heard, rather than a sound, the person called could not answer.
If we saw a creep, it was important that someone was watching it at all times until it disappeared.
And if an offering disappeared from the bowl, the team had to retrieve it in four minutes, represented by the candles.
One candle would go out every minute an object was missing. Four in total.
If we did it right, the candles would relight themselves.
If we failed, the Creeps would claim those whose offerings were missing from the circle.
The game was over when an hour had passed,
Or, when the Creeps got their fill.
We had been standing there for a good minute silently, still looking at each other. I could see that Chris looked rather stoic. The twins, however, looked more bored than anything else.
“This is stupid,” Mandy said.
“Shhh!” Chris held a finger to his lips. He looked around the courtyard, empty except for us. “The game’s started! We need to be ready!”
Showmanship? Actual terror?
And then,
“Look, the window.” Mindy pointed. We all turned to look. Sure enough, a first story window in one of the buildings shone with warm light. In fact, as we turned, one room in each of the four buildings was lit.
When we’d made our rounds prior, we’d tried the light switches on a whim. No power to the buildings.
The Creep game is real.
“Uh, guys?” Chris pointed to the circle.
Two bracelets gleamed in the dim candlelight. Between them, a bronze lid.
Where was the lighter?