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The Author of this Story is Anonymous/Unknown. This is the thirtieth CreepyPasta that was narrated by DaveTheUseless.


It was an ordinary night. I was working at Papa John’s Pizza. With such a big corporation, you’d expect nothing paranormal to happen to it. Boy! Are you in for a surprise! From my personal experience, Papa John’s is one of the most dangerous places to work at! Serial killers and paranormal activities occur NIGHTLY at this institution. Sad to say, it happened to me. I am a lone pizza worker.

The picture you see is what I saw type by itself on the computer screen. I was creeped out myself, and Ana was nowhere in sight. I tried to scream, but my vocal chords stayed frozen, as if they were a block of ice in the Arctic Ocean. The number was [NUMBER DISCONNECTED]. I recommend you DON’T call this number for any reason ever. It’s a death trap. The last four digits spell DEAD on the phone, which freaked me out when I first saw it. Sad to say, it called my store. It was the freakiest five minute conversation I have ever had in my month of working at Papa John’s Pizza… It was also my last month, might I add.

CREEPYPASTA The Papa John's Killer05:05

CREEPYPASTA The Papa John's Killer

The picture attached to this story is one of pure evil.

I was just minding my own business behind the cash register and then BAM! It just started typing by itself on the Order Entry screen. I was both confused and terrified. Sadly, I was the last one in the store. It was closing time, too. Anyways, I looked at the order. It confused me. The order was as followed:


14’’ Original Pizza


+Human


+Blood Sauce


+ Pepperoni


10 pc BBQ Wings


+2 Blood Sauce Cups My heart sank. I was hoping that I was just seeing things, considering that it was late at night (almost one in the morning) and I was the last employee there. The manager, Colin, stepped out for a brief moment to have a beer at the bar next door. I guess he did this because he figured that barely anyone would come to order a pizza late at night. Besides, the doors were locked. I was safe for the most part. Of course, that would all change in the brief moment. A tall, dark, shadowy figure approached the entrance to the pizzeria. The man was about seven feet tall and was incredibly skinny; he couldn’t have weighed over 200 pounds. He had no face, just a blank, white head with no hair.

His arms were really outstretched, nearly two-thirds the size of his body. Suddenly, the creature tapped on the glass. I looked at the screen to make it seem as if I was busy, but the illusion failed. The computer screen said “I’m here.” Before cutting to black, the man stretched his arm over to reach the window next to the entrance; it was the window we slip pizzas through just before closing time. I approached the window, but then the man held up a piece of paper that said “I already paid.” That paper then vanished in fire, as the paper hissed at me, like a snake would at its prey.

I stumbled back quickly to the finished pizzas rack, and there it was. I looked at the name to give myself some clarity. The name was “Slender Man”, which was quite fitting for this scrawny fuck. I picked up the two stacked boxes (wings on top of pizza) and hastily brought them to the slender man. The window opened by itself. I just slipped the boxes through as he caught them with his oversized hands.

The last thing I heard was a whispering “thank you” flow eerily to my ear drums. After that, the man vanished. I stared at the Miami night life for the next 5 minutes, before Colin came back into the store. He asked me why I was just staring into nothing. I told him that I was quitting the restaurant. I never saw Colin again. I asked the employees where Colin was about a month or so after the incident. They told me that he ran away to New Orleans because he was being stalked by a tall, skinny man in a suit. My heart sank. Then I took my human-topping pizza and went home.

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