The reply came at 3:13 AM: Derek laughed nervously and went to bed. The next morning, his phone was dead. When he finally got it charged, he opened his photos.
Derek never showed up to school again. When the police searched his house, they found his phone on the nightstand, still open to the camera roll.
With something sharp.
On page 42, beneath the junior class group photo, there was a name: Zachary M. No face. Just an empty space where a head should have been. A blur of gray where his hoodie melted into the background. zachary creepypasta
In the last photo, taken at 3:13 AM that same night, Zachary was smiling. And he was holding Derek’s phone.
Everyone knew Zachary as the quiet kid. The one who sat in the back of class, never raised his hand, and always wore that faded gray hoodie—even in summer. He didn’t have friends, not really. But he wasn’t bullied either. People just… forgot he was there.
Zachary’s face in every photo had been scratched out. The reply came at 3:13 AM: Derek laughed
The timestamp read: Just now.
At first, people thought it was a printing error. But then students started flipping back through older yearbooks—middle school, elementary, even kindergarten. In every single one, Zachary’s face was missing. Sometimes smudged. Sometimes replaced by a dark oval. Sometimes turned away from the camera, even though everyone remembered him looking forward.
From the inside. Want me to continue the story or turn it into a narrated video script? Derek never showed up to school again
The message delivered instantly. Three dots appeared. Then stopped. Then appeared again.
The camera roll was full of pictures—hundreds of them. All of Derek. Sleeping. In class. In the shower. In his car. And in every single photo, just behind Derek’s shoulder, stood Zachary. Same gray hoodie. Same empty expression.