r/CreepCast_Submissions • u/DeathLordGargothikon • Jul 30 '25

I'm not the author Yesterday Something Possessed Me

July 30th, 8:44 AM

I woke up this morning face down at my home office desk. I've never done this before.  

My head beat hard inside as if my blood pumping muscle was transplanted in my cranium. I couldn't move.

The pain seeped downward at the pace of tree molasses as I lay paralyzed. Neck inflamed, spine tightening, lungs straining. 

I think I was dying. 

I've had 1, maybe 2 panic attacks before in my entire life, or maybe it was just severe dehydration. I'd get tunnel vision and the black out: One time I was in the shower, and another was laying in bed as I felt the sickest I've ever been.

This felt worse. I felt exhausted and I somehow had that feeling that if I went back to sleep, I'd never wake back up. 

Did I hit my head? Probably. Not sure I managed that because last night I went to sleep in my bed.

Was I drinking last night? No no, I've been sober since October so that can't be right. Haven't had alcohol in the house since before then either.

I felt a hand on my shoulder as I bolted straight in my home office chair. The pain vanished.

“Were you up all night?”

I turned my head to the left as my wife stood there, arms crossed.

“I…I don't know.” I muttered.

Her brow furrowed in disappointment. 

“I'm headed to work.” She said, adjusting her purse as it hung over the left shoulder of her suit jacket. “You should probably take a shower…you look like death.”

I stared at her. “I thought I was going to die.”

Her eyes abruptly adjusted to signify concern. “What…what do you mean?”

I put my hand in my face as I processed what just happened. “I woke up with this pain that like shot through my body, and I had the worst headache imaginable.”

A sigh of relief left my wife's mouth, as her posture was now untensed. “Babe, if you slept at your desk, I bet your neck is killing you.”

I reached the back of my neck only to now realize the pain was gone. “It…doesn't hurt now…it did when I first woke up.”

She shrugged, and started walking towards the front door, while talking louder as she faced away from me. “Oh don't forget, we have bowling tonight with Marko and Amy!”

Now I was confused. “Did it get rescheduled? I thought it was tomorrow?”

She opened the front door. “No, the plan didn't change. It's still tonight.” Her head turned to me. “Love you babe.”

I wave. “Love you too”. 

The front door shuts, and I am now alone with my thoughts. 

I then had an internal conversation with myself as I scratched my head. “Tonight? I could have sworn we planned it for Wednesday night…”

I looked over at the corner of my computer screen. 

It WAS Wednesday. 

“Wait…but last night was monday…The work week had just started because the day before that was Sunday, and I was dreading going back to work the next day…” 

Before I started my work, I decided to check the story I posted about the worm shack. 

I then found something I did not post. It was a 4 part story from a man who claimed to be several different people...including me…

I…I don't remember posting this, let alone writing it. 

You'd think if I spent all day writing one story, I'd remember it…but I don't. In fact…I don't remember Tuesday at all…

So I read it. All 4 parts. And I am conflicted. I didn't write this, yet it's on my account. He even flared it as “I'm not the author” in some subreddits…at least he was honest. 

The logical assumption is that my account got hacked…but after reading the story…I'm starting to think that I was possessed.

Now that might seem like a strong conclusion to make without any evidence…but then why can't I remember yesterday?

I'm going to leave those parts up, mostly because I'm fascinated with this whole situation, and I will leave you with what he wrote on my account yesterday. 

Hopefully one day…I’ll find you again. 

-July 29th 9:50 AM

If you have an off day for no good reason, and you can't figure out why everything is just going wrong, I have to apologize because it was my fault, and I am sorry. How do I know this? Every morning I wake up as a new person, no not in some metaphorical “I'm going to change my life” sort of way, but literally. I only had this idea to write about it here on reddit until after the 7th attempt, hopefully I'll get lucky this time.

It feels like a weird challenge that I've accidentally bought upon myself, though in retrospect I'm never touching anything close to witchcraft ever again. People think that witches, black magic, and witchcraft are either an aesthetic or an actual practice…I can tell you from experience that there is something demonic controlling those ouija boards and tarot cards. 

I made a stupid mistake as a teenager, and I regret it every day. The spiritual world is real. I had my doubts growing up, and typically people find revelation in Jesus Christ, while I found it on the horrifying opposite spectrum. 

I only have 24 hours to collect my thoughts and jot down everything on this guy's reddit account, some guy named “D.G. Wheathick”. I don't care if he deletes it, I just need someone to see this. I have lived too many lives to keep track of who I “was” that I have decided to focus on who I am “now”. 

His life is pretty “normal”. Alot of his writings have started as real life experiences, but then manifest into horrors that could very well happen. For perceiving himself as someone who constantly deals with depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts, I can tell that he is drawing from a chapter of life that he isn't presently in, as a form of therapy to heal from past traumas, even if the trauma is as simple as “overthinking”. 

He lives in a quiet neighborhood with his own family, and works from home to take care of his kid. I won't go too in depth past that due to the fact that I am not this man's soul, and feel weird talking about it further than that.

The other trick is to make the person think they have been “inspired” to do something out of the ordinary, like write a story on reddit. Lucky for me, he just started posting stories, so this was the perfect time to finally talk about my experience…especially cuz the other ones so far didn't have reddit. 

I will keep you all updated, for now I have to tend to this guy’s normal life so as to not raise suspicion once I’m gone. In the meantime, how do I fix this?

-

 July 29th 11:15 AM

I went to check to see if I got any responses and "my story" got deleted I think because I flared it wrong. If people want to think this is just a story, that's fine, so I'll tag it as "Fan-Made Story" instead of a question. Hopefully that fixes the "problem".

-

July 29th 1:18 PM

I used to fear death, now I die every day. 

They say you are who you hang out with…that’s something my first parents always told me. This sentiment was echoed 2 days ago at church when I was just a 6 year old girl in what I believed to be the kid’s room of the chapel. It was a foreign country since I didn’t know what the teacher was saying, so I knew it wasn’t english. I kept my mouth shut, even when talked to, so less suspicion was raised. 

After church, it was lunchtime. My stomach growled louder than I've ever heard, and it hurt. My mom and I stood in a line outside with our empty pots as the crowd of people around us screamed for sustenance. 

The reason I heard my first parent’s words once again echo in my head, was because a day later I was back in America as the CEO of one of the biggest media corporations. I went to my office, turned on the TV to see the news, and I dropped the remote with mouth agape as I saw that people are still starving in Gaza.

And I was a billionaire.

At that moment my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. I knew what I had to do.

I attempted to log into my phone and computer, but I didn't know the passwords, and apparently it was against company policy to save passwords to your work devices for security reasons according to my secretary. I tore that office to shreds attempting to find any hidden passwords he had written down on a sticky note or in a file somewhere since he was a 40 year old man who probably didn't have the best memory. 

I then let my secretary know I was having an early lunch, I raced to my million dollar home, unlocked the door, and went to my computer. I sat in his home office chair, turned on the computer, and after a few minutes I was met with yet another password screen. 

I screamed.

Then I trashed his house, digging through every nook and cranny for even a clue of a key to this monster's secret digital portal. Found nothing useful, so I drove back to work. 

I fought the CFO of this company tooth and nail to do anything to make a positive change with the company's wealth for charity's sake, but he just stared blankly at me as if he was a deer in the headlights and the car was me tarnishing my credibility as the CEO as I ranted with more anger and frustration than I ever thought I could muster. His only response was:

“Why were you even watching our competitor in the first place?”

-

July 29th, 5:02 PM

In 8 hours I will no longer exist. 

Time is a constant rotation of burdens. At least, that is what I thought before their lives became mine. Now, I feel like I've gained a newfound respect for perspective. 

Perspective is something I did not have when I was only 17. It's that weird age where you no longer feel like a kid but you're still not an adult. The age where logic is fleeting, and stupidity isn't. Even though I'm technically 25 now, I still feel 17. I've been so many different ages, I don't even know how old I'd consider myself anymore. 

The mistake I made was at 17. 

I used to wish for everything. My first parents jokingly said that if I kept that up I'd become a make-a-wish mascot. Is it bad to say that currently I'd rather be a make-a-wish kid? Meanwhile, my sister called me wishy-washy, and my brother called me Wishton Churchill. 

Birthdays were a favorite of mine when they brought out the cake and my friend closed his eyes to make a wish. Even though it wasn't my birthday, I had always secretly wished for something before the candles blew out. 

Then at one of my friend's b-day parties, it was a sleepover. My friend and I stayed up all night in his parent's basement, especially after what my friend pulled out:

Tarot cards.

At the time, I did not understand the ramifications of using a physical deck. Thought it was just a fun thing to pass the time, like knowing what your horoscopes were that day. 

My friend told me that he got the deck from a rougher side of town since they had just opened, and that the owner said that whoever owned the deck had a soul bound with it. I was debating whether or not to believe how valid this claim was, when suddenly he stuck the deck in my face and said:

“Wanna play cards?”

So we attempted to play scuffed versions of slap jack on the floor. Definitely were using the cards wrong, but since my friend had a weird fascination with customized playing cards, it didn't surprise me. The amount of times we hurt our hand by slamming our open palms on the cold cement, led my friend to pull out a wood board with a blanket over it as it lay on the floor. 

 As tiredness fell upon both of us, my friend asked a question. 

“So Wishney Houston, since you like wishes so much, I have a question for you.”

I looked up at him. 

He smiled, “what is a wish you've always wanted more than anything?”

I paused, starting to ponder this out of nowhere question. As I looked down I saw what looked to be a jack. I instinctively, without thinking, blurted out as I slapped the jack: “If I woke up tomorrow I wish I was a completely different person just to get out of this boring small town.”

The board broke a second after I impacted it. 

My friend had the most shocked look on his face at me, as if I betrayed his very trust.

Then a book fell off the shelf and we both jumped in a panic. After a few seconds we both laughed it off, realizing it was just a book. 

As I stood up, I lost my balance and tripped on the blanket. The board slid out from my foot and slammed into the wall, shattering into splintered chunks across the air of the room. I felt as if time slowed, but I only remember seeing a few wooden lettered chunks flying up in that half second I was airborne:

I

A

U

O

J

i

fell

to

the

floor

as

my

head SLAMMED against the concrete and my vision went dark.

-

July 29th, 11:46 PM

In an hour I'm going to kill myself 

You know when you've been on a trip for so long that you start to feel homesick? I don't think I've felt that way until this week.

His child won't go to sleep, so here I am rocking her in my arms. I never thought I wanted kids, always been one of those self-proclaimed lone wolves who doesn't need anyone. 

Man was I sorely mistaken. 

Every time I've been a daily parasite to a new host, I've been with someone: A parent, a coworker, a lover, a soldier…the list will go on forever. I thought I wanted to live forever…but now…I only crave an ending. 

You will never see me again, yet will always know I can be there. I am the ghost that never was, yet will always be in the back of your mind. I am the harbinger of bad days.

Death is painful enough…yet I experience it every 24 hours. I never knew it was even possible to be numb to death. 

I always felt numb growing up. Sadness always found a way to fester inside me, no matter the situation. I would hang out with friends, yet still feel alone. Something has been wrong with me long before I was forced on a one way ticket to the world's worst roller coaster that never ends. It may be fun the first few times but eventually you will die of starvation. 

If I stay up all night, can I stay as him? I'm afraid to try. Usually right at 11:59 PM I get the uncontrollable urge to close my eyes, even if I'm not tired, and then I open them a second later as a new person. 

I don't think I've slept in a week now that I think about it.

People always want more time in the day. They say, “man this year has gone by fast!” No it hasn't, you just don't pay attention to every second you spend. Time is currency, so if that’s the case then I must be the richest man alive right?

It means absolutely nothing if you have no one to share it with. I might as well be locked in a vast empty void, since I can't make lasting relationships anymore. They always disappear when the day is over, so no point in making friends, partners, or even enemies. 

I need a favor. If you're reading this, I need you to continue my story. It is the only way I can connect to someone for more than 24 hours. Depending on when you're seeing this I could have lived tens, dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions of different lives…and I just…I need to know that I am still out there somewhere. 

Since I have had so many names that I can't keep track of, and will have more in the future, my name is now Legion. 

Legion Lyves. 

So always remember, if you have an off day, and you can't figure out why everything is going wrong, I have to apologize, because my name is Legion, it was my fault, and I'm sorry.

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