The Mathman
Do you have a terrifying true story that sounds like something out of a horror movie? Home-made Creepypasta is now accepting submissions!
Do you have a terrifying true story that sounds like something out of a horror movie?
Home-made Creepypasta is now accepting submissions! Share your eerie, unexplained, or downright chilling encounters in the comments belowβ¦
The Mathman
When I was a kid, I had an imaginary friend named The Mathman.
He wasnβt like other imaginary friendsβhe wasnβt silly or playful. He was serious, always standing tall in his black graduation robes, his face hidden beneath the deep shadow of his cap. His voice was smooth, patient, and always just a little too close to my ear.
At first, he only helped me with math. I struggled with numbers, but he could solve anything instantly, whispering the answers before I even finished writing the problem. My parents thought it was cute, a sign of an overactive imagination. They had no idea how real he felt.
He stayed with me for ten years.
But as I got older, he changed.
He stopped caring about math. His voice grew colder, sharper. He whispered strange things, things I didnβt understand at firstβuntil one day, he told me to hurt my family.
I laughed, thinking it was a joke. But he didnβt laugh back.
"Do it," he said. "Or Iβll do it for you."
I refused. And thatβs when everything shifted.
The Mathmanβwho had always been my friendβturned against me. He no longer stood at my desk, guiding my hand. Now, he watched from dark corners, from behind doors that were cracked just an inch too wide. His presence filled my room at night, a suffocating weight pressing against my chest.
I told my parents. I begged them to help me. But they only looked at me with pity, telling me that no one was there.
"You donβt see him?" I whispered.
They shook their heads.
That was when The Mathman laughedβa deep, guttural sound that made my skin crawl.
"Of course they don't see me," he murmured. "They never could. But Iβve been here since the beginning. And Iβll be here until the end."
Desperate, I demanded to know whoβwhatβhe really was.
He finally answered.
"I am the one cast aside," he said. "The one they do not speak of. My brother rules the underworld, but I rule the mind. You invited me in. You let me teach you. And now⦠I will never leave."
That was the last night I saw The Mathman.
Or maybe, the last night I could see him.
Even now, I sometimes feel his presenceβjust behind me, just out of sight. And when I struggle with numbers, I swear I hear itβthe faintest whisper of an answer, crawling its way into my brain.
I never write it down.
Do you have a terrifying true story that sounds like something out of a horror movie? Home-made Creepypasta is now accepting submissions! Share your eerie, unexplained, or downright chilling encounters in the comments below, and your story could be featured on the blogβand in an upcoming book collection published by Mark Watson Books.
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Be Considered for the Book β The best, most terrifying stories will be chosen for an exclusive Home-made Creepypasta book collection, published by Mark Watson Books. Your name (or a pseudonym, if you prefer) will be included as a contributor.
This is your chance to have your true horror story immortalized in print. Submit nowβ¦ if you dare. ποΈποΈ
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