03 Nov Suicide Sky
“Suicide Sky”
Written by Elias Witherow Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/ACopyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
⏰ ESTIMATED READING TIME — 6 minutes
ENTRY 1
My name is Jason. I live in the suburbs of a small city on the east coast. I’m not sure I want to say where exactly. Something is happening and I think it’s important for me to write this down. I live alone in a description-less apartment complex. I reside on the top floor which allows me roof access. I like to spend summer nights on the roof smoking and watching planes fly overhead. I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff in the sky, but nothing as shocking as what I saw last night.
I had just stubbed out my cig and was about to go inside when I noticed it. The sky was dark and full of twinkling stars, tiny pinpricks of curious light. The air was warm and humid, a gentle breeze timidly brushing across my face.
But between the stars, I saw something. It was pale, almost transparent.
It was a colossal bridge, impossibly high in the sky. It stretched from horizon to horizon, a long stretch of ghostly construction. At first I thought it was just the milky way or maybe some strange light distortion caused by the street lights. But as I concentrated on the outline of the shape, I began to make out detail that was no trick of the light. Looming spires rose into the heavens, twisting architecture of translucent wonder. Glassy blue cables stretched between the spires, forming triangular patterns along the length of the bridge.
It took my breath away, the eerie edifice that extended across the night sky like some kind of pale rainbow. Without taking my eyes off of it, I reached in my pocket and pulled out another smoke. I lit it and watched the bridge, tendrils rising from my lips as if to reach out towards the strange phenomenon.
It just hovered there, far above the earth, shimmering its strange blue color.
After a few minutes, it vanished.
ENTRY 2
I saw it again. It’s been four days since my last entry. I’ve gone up to the roof every night to look for the bridge and tonight it revealed itself once again. It was the same glassy blue color and the absolute size of it took my breath away. I tried to take pictures of it on my phone, but for whatever reason, it doesn’t show up in the photos.
I looked down from the roof onto the busy street and no one seemed to notice it. I can’t imagine why. The vastness of it fills the length of the sky, a soaring display of spectacular beauty.
And yet…as beautiful as it is…something about it scares me.
I don’t know if it’s the twisting towers that rise into the darkness like ebony fangs or the silence that surrounds it. But something about it fills my stomach with unease.
I feel like I shouldn’t be looking at it. I feel like I shouldn’t acknowledge it. I don’t know where this intuition comes from, but something whispers in my mind, a soft warning spoken through gritted teeth.
But how can I turn away? How can I not soak up its mysterious splendor?
ENTRY 3
The bridge appeared again tonight. It’s been three days since my last entry. I still seem to be the only one able to see it. I don’t know why I’ve been blessed with such a gift, but I accept it none the less. That voice in the back of my head still warns me of unknown danger, but I don’t want to listen to it. This private display of brilliance has, for whatever reason, been reserved for me to gaze upon and I would be foolish not stare up at it.
And yet, something about the bridge was different tonight. I thought I could make out shapes walking along it, pausing on occasion to stare down at me. They are the same color as the bridge, but vaguely human in shape. I used an old pair of binoculars I dug out of my closet to get a closer look at them. They appeared to be traveling from one horizon to the other, pausing for a few seconds to look out at me.
As I watched, that voice in my head became louder, warning flashing in my brain like a red light. Again, I was overcome with the feeling that I should not be watching this, whatever this strange procession was.
ENTRY 4
Not much to report. It’s been a couple of days and the bridge appeared again tonight. I watched the weird human-shaped lights march quietly across the long, suspended road. Some looked my way, but most continued without pause. Who are they? Where are they going? I watched for hours, lying on my back, binoculars glued to my face.
ENTRY 5
Oh, I fucked up. I really, really fucked up. Shit I don’t have time to write this down right n
ENTRY 6
I did something bad. I did something really bad. Why didn’t I listen to my instincts?! Two nights ago, the bridge appeared again. I got my binoculars out and excitedly trained them on the strange trails of light. Detail immediately sharpened through the lenses and I watched as the blue, human-shaped lights walked along the length of the bridge, just like they always do.
I watched for a while, waiting for one of them to notice me. After a few moments, two of the shapes paused and swiveled to look down at me. I felt a warmth spread across my skin and I knew they could see me. I knew they could see me looking up at them.
And so, I waved.
I didn’t think about it, I just did it.
As soon as I did, all the human-shaped lights on the bridge disappeared. Just gone. They just fucking vanished.
And that’s not all. The bridge changed color. Instead of the soft opaque blue, the towering spires and swaying cable turned an angry crimson. The expanse of the bridge looked like a bloody trail smeared across the sky. Its walls began to shimmer, like it was emitting intense heat. Then, ever so slowly, the red began to drip off the bridge like strands of vermillion drool.
The bridge hasn’t disappeared since I waved.
ENTRY 7
I could see it all day today, just looming above the earth. I couldn’t concentrate at work and so I went home early. It’s everywhere, a pale red hovering over the clouds. I try not to look at it, but it dominates the soft blue sky above.
I feel a constant twist of fear in my stomach, a cold grip around my throat.
What have I done?
ENTRY 8
It’s night. I’ve closed the curtains, but I can still see the bridge’s red glow. I can still see the strange scarlet dripping off the glowing construction. I heard something on the news today about a new disease in South America. They say it comes from exposure to an unknown, rose-colored sappy substance that seems to be exfoliating from the trees.
They say contact with such substance causes immediate convulsions and complete evacuation of the blood through sudden and prolonged vomiting. What remains is a pale, bloodless corpse.
It has to be a coincidence…there’s no way…
ENTRY 9
It’s been a week. I keep hearing reports about this new disease spreading. What is going ON?! The bridge is a constant mark upon the sky, a glowing patch of long light. It keeps dripping down the sky, sometimes leaving marks in the night like running blood.
I don’t know how to make it stop.
I don’t know how to fix this. God, what have I done?!
ENTRY 10
I went onto the roof tonight. I had to gaze upon it again. Maybe gain some clue how to reverse what I’ve done. How was I supposed to know? Why have I been cursed with this horrific burden?
When I got to the roof, I raised my binoculars to my eyes with sweaty hands. I adjusted the focus and what I saw brought me to my knees, my breath leaving me in a rush of panicked terror.
The bridge was still red and oozing down the star-filled sky…but through the magnification, I realized something.
It wasn’t the bridge that was dripping down heaven’s canvas…
It was the human-shaped lights.
They were now red instead of blue, casting themselves from the bridge, hurling their glowing figures down into the darkness. I watched in absolute horror as I traced them down the sky, trails of shining red staining the horizon as they fell.
They were like human comets, blazing a path towards the earth as they dove from their eternal path.
I dropped the binoculars, forcing a scream back down my throat. My back was slick with sweat and my hands shook as I scrambled with the door to get back inside.
From the darkness of my apartment, I trembled, mind reeling. Through my closed curtains, I could still make out the glowing shapes plummeting to the earth. I ran to my bathroom and vomited.
ENTRY 11
It’s been two days since that night. I don’t have much time. The bodies continue to fall from the bridge, an unending cycle of constant fear.
It’s four in the morning now. This will be my last entry. A few minutes ago, something slammed into the roof above me. It jolted me from sleep and I immediately knew what was happening. I scrambled from my bed, racing for the apartment door, but it was too late.
A thick, gooey slime was dripping from the ceiling. It looked like cherry molasses and I watched in hopeless dismay as it covered my door. I spun around, searching for another means of escape, but it was everywhere.
It’s covering the windows, the walls, slowly reaching for the floor. When it does, it will continue to pool, and eventually, it will reach me. I know there’s no escaping it. It’s only a matter of minutes now.
I don’t deserve this. I’m shaking, the reality of death looming before me and filling me with terror. What’s going to happen to me? What is the bridge and why was I allowed to see it?
Perhaps I wasn’t the only one…
Because you see…I feel like when the red eventually reaches me…when it kills me…I have a feeling I’ll wake up somewhere else…
I feel like I’ll wake up on the bridge, waiting my turn along the side, waiting to return to the earth.
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
Written by Elias Witherow Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/A🔔 More stories from author: Elias Witherow
Publisher's Notes: N/A Author's Notes: N/AMore Stories from Author Elias Witherow:
Related Stories:
You Might Also Enjoy:
Recommended Reading:
Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).