Creepypasta: The Chemist

“God, you wouldn’t believe it. That same creep was at the bar last night. He makes my skin crawl,” my girlfriend Gracie says as she fixes breakfast. 

“Is it the same weirdo that orders the fuzzy navels?” I ask as I pack my suitcase.

“No, that’s Donny, he’s a sweetheart,” she says. 

“This guy orders a bloody mary every time and he always just stares at me with this hungry stare. He says the creepiest shit too,” she says as she puts her long blonde hair in a ponytail before flipping the pancakes. “He asked me if I enjoyed pain once. Who does that?” 

“Oh, I think I know the one you’re talking about. Yeah, he is a weirdo,” I say, trying to get my luggage zipped up. “Do you want me to come by once I get back and teach this asshole some manners?” 

“No, Chelsea says that if he continues to harass me, she’ll sick Stewie on him,” she says, dishing up our plates. “I totally understand your mother is sick and I can empathize. I just wish you weren’t going to stay there for the next few nights. I really don’t want to be here all alone.” 

“I’ll only be a little over an hour away,” I say.

“Still… I just feel so freaked out about this guy,” she says. 

“I’m sure he’s just that way with every girl,” I say. 

“You’re probably right,” she says. 

She sets both our plates down and I pop a squat next to her. I take a bite of her special blueberry pancakes and my mouth has an orgasm. “Fuck, babe, these are so good.” 

She blushes her normally warm honey skin blemishes into a rosy pink hue. “Aww, thanks, babe. They’re just how you like them.” 

After we finish eating, I quickly help her clean up. I swat her on the butt, before wrapping my arms around her. She laughs. God, I love her laugh. It’s such a sweet melody. She turns to me as she leans back and I plant my lips on hers. 

We finally had to break apart. She sticks out her bottom lip at me. “Please come home as soon as you can.” 

“I promise I will,” I tell her as I grab my suitcase and head for the door. She gives me one last final kiss. I take one last look into those ocean blue eyes and savor the taste of her lips. “I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”

She blows me a kiss and I head out. The drive to my mother’s house is uneventful. Hopefully, I won’t have to stay there too long. My brother usually is the one to watch her, but he had to go with his wife down to her family, so I agreed to watch her for the next few days. She’s deathly ill with a rare form of cancer. 

As I arrive at the house, I call my girlfriend telling her I made it before I walk in. My mother has her head wrapped in a scarf and looks very sickly. She has lost a lot of weight since I last saw her and her skin seems to cling to her bones. God, it’s so sad to see her like this. She used to be so vibrant and full of life. She pulls me into a hug as I walk in. “Oh Josh, I’m so happy to see you, dear.” 

“You too mom,” I say. 

“How is Gracie? It’s too bad she couldn’t get off work to come as well,” she says. 

“She’s doing well. She’s very close to finishing up her degree,” I say. 

“Well, the sooner she graduates and gets a good job, the sooner she can quit that terrible bartending job. I don’t like her working there. A lot of filth and scum go there to drink,” my mother says. 

“I know, I don’t like her working there either,” I say. My brother walks over with his own luggage already packed. 

“Hey Josh, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got to get going,” Damon says as we hug. I follow him outside. “Her medications are already organized by day. You need to make sure she takes them. You have to stay here. She hasn’t been doing well and I’m afraid it’s not looking good. You constantly have to check up on here. I left the number of her nurse on the table. If you have any questions, just call me. Obviously, for emergencies, call 911. If you have to leave, Catherine, next door might be able to watch her. We are going to need to talk when you get back by the way. I think mom’s showing early signs of dementia.” 

“Alright. I think I can handle it. We can talk about it. Maybe get her into a neurologist. Don’t take too long,” I say.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it,” he says, giving me a salute before he gets in his car and takes off. I head back inside with my mother and she lays down for a nap as I clean up around the place. I took a look at her meds and she’s on quite a few. Having a background in biochem as my job is a biochemical researcher, I have a pretty good idea of how these drugs interact. 

As the day turns into night, my girlfriend texts me. 

You wouldn’t believe who showed up tonight! Her message read. 

The same creep? I text back. 

Yes! Josh, I think he’s been watching me. He asked where you went. I have never told him anything about my life. She replies. 

Did you tell Chelsea? I ask. 

No, she’s not here. She had to leave for a few days! I’ve got to go, it’s starting to get busy. 

Our conversation left me a bit on edge. 

“Where’s Damon?” my mother asks, nearly giving me a heart attack. I see her standing in the hallway naked. How did she sneak up on me like that? Why is she naked? 

“Damon had to go see his in-laws. Don’t you remember? He left earlier,” I say, hurrying up to grab her robe and get it around her. 

“He said he was going to play me some music. You know how good he is at that piano,” she says. Damon hasn’t played the piano in years. In fact, we sold the old piano we used to have here. Besides, nobody took care of it ever since dad died and it was constantly out of tune. Damon was right, she’s really slipping. We need to get her looked at. “Where’s Herald? He was going to tune that piano up for Damon.” 

“Mom, dad died years ago,” I say. 

“That can’t be, I was just talking to him,” she says. This night just keeps getting weirder and weirder. I help my mother eat her dinner and take her meds, before putting her to bed. Then I get a call from Gracie. 

“Hey babe, what’s up?” 

“He followed me home, Josh. His red pickup is parked out in the street. I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out right now,” she says. She’s breathing hard. I can’t tell she’s flustered. 

“Don’t panic. Did you make sure all the doors and windows are locked?” I ask. 

“Yes, I double-checked them all,” she says. 

“Call the police,” I tell her. 

“Baby, can you please come home. I’m really scared right now,” she says. 

“I can’t leave my mother alone. I think she’s got dementia. She said she had a conversation with my dad and he’s been dead for years,” I say. 

“Babe. I’m freaking out right now. Oh my god. He’s standing in the yard looking into the house. He’s watching me,” she says. I can hear her start to panic. She sounds like she’s hyperventilating. 

“Baby, I’m going to call the police. You need to barricade yourself. I’ll see if I can get my mom’s neighbor to watch her. Just hide somewhere,” I say.

“Okay. Just please call me right back,” she says. 

“I will, I promise,” I say. 

I quickly hang up the phone and call the police. I tell them exactly what’s going on. 

“I will try and get someone out there, but currently all officers are busy,” the operator says. 

“What do you mean all officers are busy?” I yell at her as I scramble to get my shoes and coat on. I rush out the door while I try to get any help from the operator. I finally give up and hang up the phone. My phone vibrates with a text message.

He’s in our house! He broke a window! Please hurry!

My heart starts to race as I bang on Catherine’s door and she finally opens it in her nightgown. 

“Josh? Josh Bennett, it’s been a long time. How are you doing, dear?” she asks with a smile. 

“Hi, Ms. Catherine. I have an emergence back home with my girlfriend and I need someone to look after my mother for the moment. Could you please help me?” 

“Oh of course. What’s wrong?” she asks. 

“My girlfriend is in trouble. I need to get there as fast as possible,” I say. 

“Okay, I understand. You get going, I’ll head over and watch Sharon,” she says. 

“Thank you so much,” I say before rushing over to my car. I get in and floor it out of there. I drive like a madman back home, going well over the speed limit. I try to call Gracie, but she doesn’t answer. 

A minute later I get a text message. I’ve locked myself in the bathroom. He knows I’m here. I’m so scared.

I text back. I’m coming. I’m on my way!

My heart’s racing as fast as the car as I max it out. I try calling the police once more, but they’re no help. They say they’re sending someone as soon as they can. Fuck! I can’t lose her. She’s everything to me. 

She calls me. I pick up immediately.

She’s crying hysterically. “He’s trying to break the door down! I don’t know what to do.” 

“Is there anything you can use as a weapon?” I ask. 

“I don’t know. I… I’m scared.” In the background, I can hear the banging on the door. 

“You better open up, slut. If I have to break this damn door down, it won’t end well for you!” the man shouts in the background. 

“Hold on. I’m coming.”

“Please hurry,” she whimpers. This can’t be happening. 

I’ve got the pedal all the way down to the floorboard. “Baby, I love you!”

I hear a loud crash. She screams. “Don’t you dare hurt her!” 

The line goes blank. My heart explodes in my chest. Fuck! Fuck. I’ve got to get there. 

I race home and get there within the next 20 minutes. The cops are there, which gives me some relief. I rush over to them and try to explain who I am. A woman officer tries to get me to calm down. “Let me speak to my girlfriend.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this…” she looks at me with a stern cold stare. My heart sinks into my stomach. “We found no signs of her or her assailant.”

“What do you mean? He took her?” I say as the blood drains from my face. I feel sick.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find her. We’ve got our best officers on the job,” she says. 

“Why couldn’t you come sooner? I called over a half-hour ago. If you would’ve come sooner, this wouldn’t have happened,” I shout out. A sudden nauseous feeling takes over. 

“I understand how you feel. It’s been a really hectic night. We’re doing all we can to help find her,” she says. I start pacing back and forth. This can’t be happening. I fall down to my knees and as everything starts spinning and throw up on the ground. I need to find her. He couldn’t have taken her far.

“Is there anything you can tell us that will help with our investigation?” she asks. 

I pull myself to my feet and look up into her eyes. “Yeah, she said he drove a red pickup. She said he’d always show up at the bar she works at. You have to find them. I can’t lose her.” 

“We will. I promise,” she says. How can she make that kind of promise? She couldn’t even get here in time to prevent this from happening. As if I can talk. While she was being kidnapped, I was with my mother. 

—

Weeks had gone by, but still no word on Gracie. Every day I go out searching for her. I put up signs all over town. I go door to door asking if anyone had seen her. I haven’t been sleeping. 

One morning, I got a call from the police. They asked me to come down to the station. I feel a dreadful pit in my stomach as I head down there. Walking in there felt like I was walking through a funeral home. The police officers stared at me with concern. The same woman who was there that night greeted me with a grim expression. 

“We think we’ve found her. I’m sorry to tell you this, but we found a body that matches your girlfriend’s, Gracie Wilson’s description dumped off in the woods off Highway 66. We still have no suspect and the evidence on the body leaves no trace as to who was behind it,” she says. Her face remains as still as a wall. I feel dizzy. My stomach clenches as if I ate something rotten. I follow her mindlessly down to the morgue. 

There laying on a medical table was unmistakably Gracie. Her lifeless body is full of bruises and cuts. Her skin has a sickly blue color to it. I feel that nauseous, knife-wrenching feeling in my stomach. I quickly rush for the closest trash can and dry heave what little substance I have in my gut. I find I can’t fight the tears falling from my eyes. I feel the officer’s hand on my shoulder. That man… he’ll pay for the things he did to her. I swear it. 

—

The tv blares in the background as I sit at the table of the old house I shared with my Gracie. It was the first house we bought together. The only house we bought together. The news anchor goes on about a man named Henry Losborne they found tortured to death. They said he had been tortured by some chemical compound. He was the son of a wealthy businessman. They had a video of him confessing all the horrific things he had done to so many women chained to his neck on a junk drive. 

It had been 5 years since the brutal murder of my girlfriend. 5 long miserable years. My mother passed away not long after that terrible night. I take a long pole from the bottle of whiskey in my hand and slumb over the kitchen table. I had done so many terrible things to many horrible people over these 5 long years. I look at my reflection in the window and I don’t even recognize the man I’ve become. A beard has grown wild on my face. My eyes now carry bags under them and I’ve lost weight. Too much weight. 

It took me 5 long years, but I finally found the bastard that took Gracie from this world. The things I did to him… Well, let’s just say my degree in chemistry really paid off. 

I miss her very much. I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel like there’s only one thing I can do. Tears stream down my face as I grab the gun lying on the table. I close my eyes as I put it to my temple and…

The End

Remember. You’re never safe in the dark.

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