Internet Campfire Tales: Rachel, A Creepypasta Review

14 Jul

Oh, great, a Creepypasta named after my least favorite Animorph.



Just kidding, my least favorite is Cassie. Anyway! Let’s dig in to the inoffensively titled Rachel, to find out… whether it’s as bland as it sounds, I suppose.


“In 2002, Rachel Moores disappeared from a train station in Sydney, Australia.”

‘Cane Toads are wanted for questioning.’

“After three weeks of investigation, the police found and arrested a man living in Blacktown Sydney.”

Wait, is there an actual place in Australia called “Blacktown”?! Jesus fucking christ, Australia! No wonder England exiled you all to an island!

“He was charged with third degree murder and sentenced to 25 years in prison.”

But because it was Australia, he was actually safer in prison then anywhere else. Go figure.

“He is now 10 years into his sentence and his rehabilitation is going well. Or at least, that’s what the public is told.”

In reality, he got eaten by vampires five minutes in.

“He escaped three years ago and now could be anywhere in the world. He collected a large sum of cash robbing a bank after he escaped.”

Wait, Australia uses real money? I thought they just used their contempt for other countries.

“How do I know this? I am the one who killed Rachel Moores.”

If anybody claims to be surprised by this plot twist, I will cut you into fifty pieces and deep fry you.

“You always remember your first kill, the feel of the blood spilling over your hands and the screaming – how could I forget the screams, begging for her very life!”

‘Wait- no, she was just asking for some change. Scratch that.’

“I remember cutting off her fingers one by one, I remember ripping her stomach open and pulling out her intestines, I remember cutting through her soft flesh like butter, as the blood sprayed over my white shirt turning it red.”

Um. Actually, that would turn your shirt sort of a reddish brown? Maroon, at most. And also, great, now you just ruined your shirt. NOW ARE YOU HAPPY.

“Hahaha although she was the first, she definitely wasn’t the last. Each kill gave me more ideas for torturous and, let’s say, creative kills.”

‘And creative arts and crafts. Look! A macrame owl!’

“In fact, I see my next target right now. I think I’ll wait under the bed until dark, then I’ll strike.”

‘Strike the mattress, I mean. That thing is just tacky.’

“Oh, and by the way, you have a lovely house.”

Hah, I know you’re lying! My house is shit!

So, um. That was… incredibly boring. Next!



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