Internet Campfire Tales: Holder Of The Script, A Creepypasta Review

16 Dec

Well, after listening to the greatest Christmas song ever made-

– I think I’m finally in the Christmas Spirit! And you know what that means! We’re going to review a Christmas themed Creepypasta! Like… like… um…

Okay, all of the Christmas themed Creepypastas suck ass, what do you want from me?! We’re doing Holder Of The Script, okay?!


“In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to.”

Wait, a “halfway house”? You mean those places where convicted criminals go to allow them a chance to begin to reintegrate into society? That’s completely fucking ridicul- actually, on second thought, crossing over convicted criminals and Creepypastas sounds awesome. I wanna see Jeff the Killer getting his ass kicked by a gang of skinheads, or Eyeless Jack having to pull a shank out of his socket, or what happens when Slendy drops the soap.

“When you reach the front desk, ask rather bluntly to visit someone who calls himself “The Holder of the Script.””

Oh, sure, totally go ask the fucking halfway house that! I’ll be back here. With riot armor. And a sponge.

“If the worker freezes for a moment, then puts on a weak facade of normalcy, then you have come to the right place.”

Wait wait wait, what is this “then you have come to the right place” shit?! I thought you said it worked in “any city, any country”! I guess it meant “any city or any country, except when I can’t be arsed to do it”.

“Nervously, the worker will direct you down a hall and to a door, then hastily dash away without another word, then  enter the door, and you will find yourself in another hallway, this one without doors.”


That is what you were talking about, right?

“Make your way down this bare hallway, making sure to exude nothing but confidence.”

And what if you don’t? Does the hallway mug you?

“Should you, while walking down the hallway, hear a soft applause, stop immediately and shout, “I do not deserve any credit!””

… Okay, so I think we can officially agree that the writer is off his meds.

“If the applause continues, then be thankful that your end will come quickly, though not without extreme pain.”

Don’t worry, dude, if you’re that scared of applause, you’re definitely not going to hear it after this story. SURPRISE BURN, FULL BODY CONTACT.

“If the applause dies down, you may proceed. At the end of the hall, the wall will be bare. Push the bare wall to find that is a hidden door; the entire wall will spin around and allow you passage.”

Yep, the entire wall spins ’round, right ’round, like a record, baby.

[Editor’s Note: Wait, isn’t the line “when you go down-]


“Enter to find yourself on a half-complete, harshly-lit stage. The rows of seats before the stage are all empty, save for one at the front and center.”

Yeah, I’m sorry, but… what does this have to do with halfway houses, exactly? Mental institutions, I could see, but… why the fuck did “convicted felons” and “magical theater of the damned” happen to cross over?! AND WHY DOESN’T IT HAPPEN MORE OFTEN?!

“There sits the director, a man who appears to be in his late twenties, though you may notice he has no eyes.”

… MAY notice?! No, no, the fact that you’re getting stared at by Eyeless Jack in a magical death theater is KIND OF FUCKING NOTICEABLE.

It’s not a real Creepypasta until I can find sexy fan art of them. Hiya, Eyeless Ja- er, Jill!

“Before you have a chance to collect your thoughts, the director will proceed to bark out a series of directions. Without missing a beat, you must do the exact opposite of each command, so think and act quickly.”

I can’t tell if this is a horror story any more, or literally every day in drama class ever.

“The director will grow increasingly agitated as you fail to carry out his directions, but you must not allow his anger to disrupt you, for breaking the rhythm at this point would mean inviting your understudy to take your place.”

So, completely failing to perform what the director tells you to do… will not get you replaced?

“No words can adequately describe what that would entail.”

Yeah, good point, that might be actually scary.

“After hours of exhausting instruction and mounting frustration, the director will throw up his hands in defeat and declare you unworthy of playing the part. Before he has a chance to rise from his seat, quickly ask one question: “What is the part I must play?””

And do it in the form of a song and dance, as long as we’re just making things right the fuck out of nowhere.

“The director will guffaw incredulously and shake his head. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the stage below you will vanish, and you will fall into a seemingly bottomless pit.”

I don’t know what’s supposed to be scary about all this, it all seems pretty normal for theater.

“As you fall, you will hear the sounds of the most brutal massacres to ever occur, and those yet to come.”

And more Space Jam remixes, oddly enough.

“You will hear the bones of the innocent crushed under the boots and treads of good and evil alike.”

But enough about my weekend, how are you!

“Through it all, you will come to understand what your part is.”

You’re stuck playing Sweeney Todd, which is really freaking odd for a production of Cats.

“Be prepared for when you finally hit water; from the height you will have fallen, hitting the surface will be a painful blow. Allow yourself to sink to the bottom, for when you come into contact with the floor, you will appear suddenly in a cell in the institution.”

What institution?! Fuck off, you said I could do this through a halfway house! I’m gonna smack that water and pop out in a rough inner city neighborhood!

“Lying at your feet will be a stack of papers stapled together.”

And all of it is Jeff the Killer fanfiction, oddly enough.

“If you read any part of what is written on those papers, then you accept your part in the script. Refusing to accept the part means one day being a victim of His rise. To accept the part means one day becoming the person responsible for it.

Ooooor, how about I try that theater routine, and just bring along a fucking shotgun, and blow away that eyeless motherfucker? How about that?

“The script is Object 130 of 538.”

Annnnd we’re back to not making any sense.

“Only you can choose whether or not you accept your part.”

Hmm, lemme think- yeah, fuck that.

So, that was Holder Of The Script! How was that?

… What the assbutt did I just read?!

I mean, it wasn’t… bad, it was well written, it just wasn’t… scary. Which is kind of a problem on a Creepypasta! Maybe it would be better if… I don’t know, it was better?! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!




One Response to “Internet Campfire Tales: Holder Of The Script, A Creepypasta Review”


  1. Internet Campfire Tales: Holder Of Absence, A Creepypasta Review | A VERY STRANGE PLACE - April 5, 2015

    […] wow, this is going to be fun to explain. So, um, a while back, I reviewed something called The Holder Of The Script. It was some confusing little Creepypasta about how if you go to a halfway house and ask to see […]

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