~My Call of Duty Creepypasta~ FEEDBACK PLEASE!!

[Electric Jesus]

This is not exactly a storyline story, but a story relating to black ops. Please give me feedback ranging anywhere from a minor grammatical bugaboo, to a big plot alteration. The story is in its infancy so it has time to develop. Anyway, here it is.

*INSERT TITLE HERE* (need some help here guys)

I decided to start this dream journal because Of the really strange visions that have been plaguing my subconscious mind. None are particularly scary, just... Strange. I really didn't know what else to call this, since that is exactly what it is. I'll explain later. First I'll give you a bit of background that led up to my situation.

Firstly, I have always been a big fan of the Call of Duty series. However, lately I have become rather obsessed with the games, particularly Black Ops. The part of it that I can't seem to get enough of is Zombies. In the hype leading up to the next title, Black Ops zombies alone has left me with a sort of "meh" feeling, rather than the excitement it used to inspire. 

Because of this, I have found myself playing more and more of it. I'd hate to even use the word "addict" when describing my situation, but the only way I know how to describe this feeling is like a drug addict. Unable to fulfill my urges with a more potent drug, I am stuck simply upping the dosage of my current substitute. 

My mind has been on Black Ops (particularly zombies) even when not playing it sometimes. I have noticed that I am actually beginning to have some pretty wierd dreams lately, almost all of them having one or more relation to the game. 

As of now, I can't remember any specific detail of these dreams I've had recently, but now that you understand the basis for this journal I will begin to update it daily (or however often the dreams choose to present themselves) In order to maybe shed some light on the whole situation. 

DAY ONE

I had an interesting dream last night. I was standing in a theater that I recognized at once as the theater featured in the Black Ops map "Kino der Toten," also known as the theater of the dead. It was no longer destroyed and bloody, but full of a bustling crowd, eager to watch the show. I can't remember what happened on the stage, but at the time I found it highly amusing. This dream wasn't nearly as strange as some others; I suspect this is  a calm before the storm.

DAY TWO

I don't actually remember what I dreamed about, but a loud "BANG," presumably from the dream, woke me up suddenly. I fell asleep after scanning my room frantically for a moment and deciding it had been in my head.

DAY THREE 

Woke up last night again. It was another loud noise from my dream. Judging from my other recent dreams, it can only be a bomb or grenade or gunshot, or some other obnoxious war device. I couldn't fall asleep again for some reason, and am writing this at around 1 in the morning. 

DAY FOUR

I am actually considering checking in with a doctor. This is getting out of hand. I awoke during the night to the unmistakeably raspy and demonic voice of the Zombie announcer, roaring at the top of their voice "INSTA-KILL!!" it seemed to echo in my head after I awoke, as though resonating from my dream into my room. This resulted in another nearly sleepless night. 

DAY FIVE

I actually remember what I dreamed about tonight, but I almost wish I didn't. Tat least I cn say I got some sleep. I was standing at the top of a building, and I slammed down on a button. A massive beep tore the night in two as the roar of a rocket started up. I looked up in time to see the rocket from the mission Ascension lift only a few feet into the air before exploding into a massive ball of fire. I felt my skin burning as I was dowsed in burning rocket fuel. I flailed for a moment, only to realize that I had awoken almost at once and was kicking all of the sheets off of my bed in a panic. I have never experienced a dream before that had such a vivid... Intensity.

DAY SIX

I didnt remember any dreams last night, nor did I wake up in the middle of the night. Finally, some good, uninterrupted sleep at last.

DAY SEVEN

I had a pretty rough night last night. I awoke in the middle of the night, petrified, as of pinned to the bed by my shoulders. I heard a few muffled voices outside my door, when suddenly the door slammed open And a soldier stepped in, then pulled back and released a tomahawk, sending it straight at my face. I awoke with a gasp, to find myself in bed with my door closed and absolutely no tomahawks in sight. Again I became restless and endured another mostly sleepless night. 

DAY EIGHT

I simply couldn't sleep at all last night. No dreams, no auditory hallucinations, just no sleep at all. I think this may actually be borderline disorder. I think I may need help.

DAY NINE

Maybe it's just the strain of life mixed with my recent sleep deprivation, but I think I'm beginning to get flashes of these "dreams" during the day. For example, I will be sitting at a desk and suddenly hear a familiar voice from Black Ops, or hear the firing of a gun in the distance, or even see a flash of a zombie or soldier out of the corner of my eye. no dreams last night, but I feel like they are creeping into my waking moments too.

DAY TEN

I have a feeling this is turning into more than just a dream journal. I was just minding my own business, listening to my boss yapping my ear off, not really paying attention. Suddenly I realized that his voice was slowly, very slowly, becoming more and more like the demon announcer's. It became raspy, echoing, and deeper. When I looked up at him, he gave me a concerned look and walked away. I was a bit unnerved by this, but carried on for the rest of the day as usual. Then I came home. I plopped my bag down on the couch, but looked up suddenly as multiple figures strode past the corner of my eye. I shot a quick glance towards the hall where I was sure I would see soldiers walking in some formation, but was disappointed. This is all really wearing on my sanity. If only I could just quit the game and stop it all... But I just can't. Any addict will understand what I mean....

DAY ELEVEN

I heard a noise downstairs while lying in bed. It sounded like a roll of thunder, but I could clearly tell it was coming from MY HOUSE, and not the dark sky outside. I hopped out of bed and down the stairs as the grumbling sound grew more audible. Upon reaching the first floor it became clear that it was coming from just outside my front door. I was hesitant to open it, but curiosity got the best of me. The moment my hand touched the door, it slammed open of its own accord. I staggered backwards and miraculously kept my footing. Upon fully regaining my balance, I realized that outside of my house was completely covered in the most dense fog I've ever seen. Very slowly the fog began creeping into my house towards me. Suddenly an ear-splitting guitar note split the eerie silence, echoing off into the fog. I recognized that single note, and staggered backwards, stumbling and finally falling onto my back. As I knew it would, that oh so familiar demonic voice, echoing and louder than ever before, bellowed that haunting phrase: "FETCH ME THEIR SOULS!!" suddenly, a burst of fire, the snarl of a dog, and two vivid yellow eyes. A bloodcurdling scream filled the air. I awoke, only to realize that the scream had been my own. I stifled it at once.  This is really out of hand now. The other visions and dreams were just that, but this was a nightmare--no, a night Terror. 

DAY TWELVE

I was sitting in the office today, when I heard a yelp from my window and the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the square glass window set in the door to my office being brutally assaulted by what was unmistakably a zombie. I fell out of my chair with a yelp of my own, only to hear the door click open before I could look up. I saw at once that it was nothing to fear; just a female co-worker entering my office. She gave me the usual crap, you know, "you aren't yourself lately, take some time off, blah fucking blah." I actually regret storming out of the building; she was just trying to help. For god sakes, I won't be able to fucking cope with myself if I end up depressed on top of sleep-deprived and out of my mind with anxiety.

DAY THIRTEEN

I got a all from my boss; I've been fired. I can't honestly say this surprised me, but it was a blow nonetheless. All I can do is sit at home now. I've never really had any friends and I don't live within a thousand miles of any family member, so there isn't much to do now. Perhaps that helped to contribute to my situation. Still, I can't help but think that the lack of responsibility I have since I was fired has helped me clear my head a bit. I need some sleep, and maybe I'll be able to manage it tonight.

DAY FOURTEEN

I said I might be getting better earlier yesterday; I was wrong. I was brushing my teeth at the end of the day, when I glanced in the mirror and saw what was unmistakeably a teddy bear resting on one of the shelves in the shower. I whirled around, only to see a bottle of shampoo and some soap where it had been. Upon shakily returning to the sink, I heard a faint noise from the hall. It was just quiet enough to make me think it was in my head, but just loud enough to leave me with doubts. It was the fucking teddy bear's Girlish, echoing giggle. I slumped into bed and suffered through another night with no sleep whatsoever.

 DAY FIFTEEN

Something odd has been happening. I used to get random flashes of crazy bullshit during the day, but now I feel as though I am being antagonized by that fucking teddy bear constantly. I'll hear that little giggle in everyone's ringtone, in the background of every TV commercial, or in the back of my own mind when I'm just sitting in silence. And god forbid I look in the mirror, or down a hallway, or into a dark room in my house, because the damned teddy will be staring back at me, with glowing blue eyes I've never even seen in the fucking game! Now my mind is just making shit up to piss me off and freak me out, and it's really wearing on my sanity. Looking back now, I've gone over two weeks with very little sleep. I never stopped to realize that my own life may actually be at stake I'd this keeps up, and I doubt it's over yet. 

DAY SIXTEEN

I can't even think anymore. That laugh... Oh, that laugh. It isn't just in the things I hear, it is echoing forever in my mind. I've had songs stuck in my head for weeks at a time, but they only ever came in flashes. It was never just replaying infinitely in my head like this fucking laughter. And that goddamn bear is... Everywhere. Whether I'm looking under my bed for a pair of shoes, or glancing over at the static-filled TVscreen, the bear is there, watching me with those big glowing blue eyes. I need to get out of this or I WILL die. I can feel it. The bear is constantly  getting CLOSER! Every time I see it, hear it, it's closer to me. I know it's all in my head, but it all seems too real. 

DAY SEVENTEEN

It's so close I can practically feel it. I can feel its eyes on me constantly. I can hear it whispering, laughing in my ear, over my shoulder. I can hear more than just the teddy bear laughing at me now. I swear I heard breaking glass downstairs, and there is a roaring, growling sound coming from downstairs too. I'm not ashamed to admit that i'm too damn scared to check it out. Maybe if I confront it, it will go away?? I am too desperate to not try SOMETHING. 

**This journal has been confiscated by the Baltimore city police department and shall be used as evidence in the death of *name withheld*. The victim was found dead in his living room after he had been mauled by a bear that had broken through his glass patio door. The bear was found in his bathroom and was promptly disposed of. The victim abandoned the journal to go and investigate what he apparently thought was another one of his recent psychotic episodes as described in the journal. However, he met his demise upon encountering the full-grown black bear in his living room. Scrawled in blood (presumably his own) was a message on the wall, left by the victim shortly before he expired. It read "You must Ascend from Darkness."**

[Supernova4351]

That was really good. Keep writing! :D

[ERich935]

Unlike any Creepypasta I've read, this actually seems pretty well done. Keep up the good work. BTW There are times when I see the number 115 randomly and that makes this story a little more scary.