Jump ScareJump Scare | Art by John Tedrick 

Slenderman, Jeff the Killer, Sonic.exe. Do these creepypastas ring an internet bell?

This Halloween, we got four different EDHREC authors to create their own unique 500-word Magic "creepypastas," each taking a certain story, meme, or literary device inspired by the spooky internet fiction genre... that just may jump scare you.

Stay alert, and read on...

Inner Voice by Owain Roberts

Rivaz of the Claw, art by Joshua Raphael

"You've got this last turn," my friend told me as I studied the board state. We began this game as a way to help guide me towards who I would become as a Magic player. He was on Baylen, the HaymakerBaylen, the Haymaker, while I was on Rivaz of the ClawRivaz of the Claw.

Before this game, I had been on a mostly Universes Beyond streak, much to the dismay of my group. The cards from the product line always carried a beautiful flavor combined with unique mechanics.

However, it had been in recent weeks that I had begun to turn away from it. The negativity had cratered my enjoyment of the game, and it seemed I was the only one badly impacted.

Yet, my group knew who I was, how long I had been playing, and it was the friend before me who let me borrow his deck, helmed by Rivaz.

Memories rushed through me during the course of the game, from my first deck, Wort, Boggart AuntieWort, Boggart Auntie, and beyond.

It was convenient that we were in a sheltered part of the park, complete with a wooden table while the wind howled around us. Trees seemed to whistle to me as I drew a deep breath, eyes closed and my hand on the top card of the deck.

"How does it feel?"

This wasn't my friend's voice. It was a reptilian-sounding voice, not something I had heard before.

"How does it feel to be a planeswalker again?"

"Again?" I thought to myself.

I remained as stone-faced as I could, my skin jumping as the voice responded. "Yes. Away from that corporate drudgery."

"That's-"

"Gatekeeping? I know. But you neglect the heart and soul that went into the game itself." I peeked at my board state, scanning for the source of the mysterious voice.

It took a few moments to click: It was my commander. I shut my eyes again. "Believe in yourself. Believe in us."

My head went silent. "You ok?" My friend inquired, startling me into movement.

"Sorry. I...I was distracted. I'll take my turn."

I drew my card, inhaled, and looked at my hand. My friend had a couple of flyers, but the card I drew would ensure I could eke out enough damage to win.

Wait.

I saw the through line, as though the deck was guiding me.

"I cast Faithless LootingFaithless Looting. I tap Rivaz to cast Twinflame TyrantTwinflame Tyrant from my graveyard. Since it has haste from AngerAnger, I swing with my Dragons."

My friend studied my attackers, deciding how to block. He instead extended his hand. "Good game."

"Good game."

I went to return the deck, but he raised his hand. "It's yours. I meant it as a gift."

"Really?" I blinked, but he nodded. "Thanks!"

I put the Rivaz deck back into its box, and packed up.

As the two of us went home, something dawned on me. It was as though I felt a bond with my new deck, like it was speaking to me.

"What's on your mind?" My friend asked.

My head was low, but I could only smile. "That I made a new friend."

The Smell by Mike Carrozza

Smell Fear, art by Cristi Balanescu

The LGS is bustling. There’s something in the air tonight. Magic is everywhere. The harsh lights illuminate graphic tees and pins on carrying gear. I spy a stack of Goldsabertooth proxy tokens and nod in recognition as I walk past the many tables to sign up for Commander night. Only one person in line before me; my timing is great.

As I’m waiting for my turn at the counter, I turn around to admire the full room. Players are shuffling their decks and laughing, others are in the tank, counting. A table of two waves at me, pointing at an available seat. I’m home. I take a deep breath.

Oh, my.

What is that?

It’s definitely coming from over here. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it until now. The guy in front of me must be the source. Come on, smelly, you’ve gotta wrap this up. How insulting it is to the olfactory senses of everyone in here, but to also bolster the harmful stereotype that hygiene does not come easy to players of this game we love so much. For shame.

The other register opens up. Thank Garfield!

The clerk points me to the event code for Commander night and hands me a promo. I purchase a booster. It’s bad. I head to the table with the two players and take a seat. I introduce myself to Brit and Dan. While Dan shuffled up and explained how excited he is to play his new deck, Brit is waving someone down.

It’s him. It’s The Smell. I learn his name is Jason. I can hardly concentrate on Jason’s rant about how much he hates Universes Beyond because of the foul stench. I breathe through my mouth for the majority of the evening.

The game flows naturally. Everyone gets a moment to shine, everything is perfect - everything except the smell. I excuse myself after the game. I need fresh air. I bask in the scent of the evening rain hitting the parking lot. A curse has lifted from my nostrils. Moments later, Dan and Brit make their way out, too.

“Calling it a night?”

“Yeah, we had a great game and should probably end on a high.” Brit laughs a polite laugh that also feels like it was a laugh she once put on that has since become her real laugh.

I nod, knowingly. I lean in. “Doesn’t help that…you know… the smell.” Dan perks up, but pulls away.

“Oh?”

“You’re telling me you didn’t notice stink coming off that guy in there?”

“Oh, yeah, haha. God, whatever that was. Awful stuff. Anyway, good night! See you around sometime!”

“Definitely!”

“See you,” Brit says, nearly at their car.

What am I waiting for? I had a great game. I don’t need to put my nose through that again. I head to my car. I toss my bag in the backseat and get in the driver’s seat. I kick on the AC.

Sniff.

Sniff. Sniff.

I reach for the glove compartment. Cobwebs cover my Old Spice stick. A receipt shows the purchase date is from 2008.

The Proxy by Tyler Bucks

LS: Sorry I’m late! I’m Lauren Sweeney, Mr. Townsend’s state-provided lawyer. I’ll be representing him, so let’s start from the beginning.

JR: We don’t have time, we’ve been talking in circles for hours, he can barely remember anything! I have officers investigating his house; it’s trashed, windows broken, blood trails, clothes all over the yard!

TT: Oh, I remember what happened with the clothes! It started after my friend’s weekly Magic game. I was excited, because my girlfriend got me a custom proxy of me as my favorite commander, King KenrithKing Kenrith.

JR: Nice, you’re a king, keep it moving.

TT: We were playing and for some reason my friend Jon wouldn’t stop targeting my commander. He kept throwing Auras at me, first it was Parasitic ImpetusParasitic Impetus, then Stab WoundStab Wound!

JR: How horrible, he didn’t let you play with your king guy.

TT: Not just that, my other friend Mike copied it with a CloneClone, then hit him with… Path or Swords, I can never rememb-

JR: Enough, what happened when you got to the house!

TT: Which time?

JR: Obviously after the game…

TT: That’s fuzzy… The other time's clearer… Yes, clothes everywhere! I was confused… Went inside… There was a note on the table from my girlfriend saying she was leaving me…

JR: Which made you angry?

TT: No, I saw it coming… Thinking back, we started to hate each other.

JR: Which is why you killed her?

LS: Don’t answer that!

TT: She wasn’t there. I know, because I guess I destroyed every room of the house…

JR: You said you weren’t mad?

TT: Yeah, it was the weirdest feeling… Then something weirder happened. I felt a stabbing pain in my side, and there was blood!

JR: The medics found no evidence of an injury.

TT: I can’t explain it, but I could’ve sworn…

JR: Then why didn’t you call sooner?

TT: I remember calling after the blood, I think, but I got distracted by my girlfriend’s note… On the back it said “There’s more of you in that proxy than you think”.

JR: So, she was calling you fake?

TT: Not really sure, that’s still fuzzy… Wait, what happened next is really clear. I arrived at the house… I walked through the dirty yard, into the house. It was like I was seeing everything for the first time, but it all still felt familiar. Like I had the memories of what happened there, but they weren’t my own.

JR: You entered the house again? You must be disoriented!

TT: No, it’s crystal clear. The clothes on the ground, glass on the floor, blood leading up to the table… And there he was…

LS: Who, an intruder?

TT: Me… Standing there, holding the letter. He stared at me for a while, then he attacked me.

JR: What?

TT: He wasn’t too strong. The wound in his side, fear in his muscles, it made him slow. But there was rage in his eyes.

LS: Sounds like Thomas is just a victim of a home invader!

JR: You believe he fought himself?

TT: It wasn’t much of a fight. He grabbed a shard of glass and lunged at me, I closed my eyes. Nothing happened.

JR: He had second thoughts?

TT: I opened my eyes, and he was just gone…

LS: Well, maybe he got away! Follow the blood trail out and find the real suspect.

JR: There’s no trail out…

LS: Even so, no body, no crime. Destroying your own house isn’t really illegal.

JR: That’s it, I’m stepping out! You think hard about what your final statement is going to be. This isn’t sounding convincing.

LS: Alright, before he gets back, you need to think. Is there anything else you remember about tonight?

TT: Hmm. The note she left, saying there’s more of me in that proxy; the game, the Auras, the clone. That doesn’t make sense, why would the clone just disap- unless...

LS: What are you saying?

TT: Ms. Sweeney, you said earlier. No body, no crime?

LS: Yes. Did you just remember something?

TT: I did. It was Path to ExilePath to Exile.

LS: Why does that matter?

TT: I guess it doesn’t anymore.

When You Close Your Eyes by Josh Nelson

Lingering Tormentor, art by Joshua Hagler

In April of 2008, I had a bad dream. I’ll be honest, it was a little silly, but in a way that… Well, let me preface that it wasn’t a goofy dream that you’d expect to hear from a friend texting you at 8 AM, but it had some freaky elements to it. It also turned into a nightmare… Although I would say it got even worse a few months later.

I’m getting ahead of myself, so let me recount the story. The dream has some elements that are messed up, especially in this day and age, so if you don’t like the idea of someone weird terrorizing a college, well, hey, here’s your content warning.

I was in a lecture hall at a university. I couldn’t tell you which. The hall was full of all manner of people, from students to lecturers and maybe an administrator or two. The fluorescent lights on the ceiling were a stiflingly bright white, and I could see a lot from the middle rear of the room. While this is true, it was, of course, 2008, so this is seventeen years of grasping to remember every detail for your amusement.

However, one important detail I can’t forget is that the podium was absent of any lecturer or speaker at all. That is, until some dark-hooded figure popped out from behind it. He was wearing an black hoodie and was pretty damned imposing. But I also remember his face.

Maybe you’ve seen the memes of Weegee from the old Nintendo game Mario Is Missing. I had as well, thus the visage of the meme in my nightmare. So, Weegee was known for causing something called “identity death” by staring into someone’s eyes.

The idea is pretty simple but disturbing: Weegee stares at you, and you then become Weegee. While a meme doing this is absurd, it was also a horrifying idea. So, when I tell you all that in my dream, people freaking scattered, you believe me, okay?

I had no way to run, being in the middle of the row. I hid and shut my eyes. He still found me, and I saw the worst thing I can care to recount. The bastard had infiltrated my thoughts, and while I knew it was Weegee in essence, what I saw wasn’t quite that.

What I saw was a crouching monster with buggy eyes and a startlingly menacing expression on its now only-vaguely Weegee-esque face.

I woke up in a cold sweat, having lost the battle in my head. But, as I had school the next morning, I shrugged it off and went back to bed.

Three months later, I attended the Eventide prerelease. It was vaguely chill, except that the first uncommon I pulled was Lingering TormentorLingering Tormentor. I hadn’t seen the previews from the set, so its art obviously haunted me. But furthermore, its flavor text was the most disturbing thing I can think of:

“The bogeyman doesn’t disappear when you close your eyes.”