This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/lets-split-up on 2024-10-21 22:05:59+00:00.
A narrator reached out to me after finding my stories on Creepypasta.org. I usually ignore these requests, especially when they begin with, “I’m starting a new channel,” because they often ask for my work for free. Sometimes, to add insult to injury, they’re not even narrating but just using AI. I was going to close the message when the narrator followed up with: “You’ll be paid a flat fee of $300 per story.”
THAT perked up my interest.
Why so high? I messaged, and was informed that I would have to sell all rights to the story. It would belong wholly to The Scream Collector (the channel), and I wouldn’t be able to reprint or repost anywhere. If I accepted the commission, a list of guidelines would be emailed to me.
How long do the stories have to be? I asked.
2000-4000 words, they replied.
The stories would be released in a kind of anthology centered around the fictional town of Pinefell. I was the first author contacted, but if the channel was successful the anthology would be expanded to include other writers. The stories would all be published by The Scream Collector, or TSC as the name was displayed on the channel logo, with the conceit being that they were all “true” stories being shared by the titular collector of Pinefell.
In short, I wouldn’t get any writing credit, since my stories would all be penned by the Collector.
$300 per story was decent money, but selling all rights? Not even getting my name attached? I messaged back that I’d have to think about it. TSC said of course, but not to take too long because they were contacting other writers, and I might lose out on the opportunity.
In the end I accepted because—well, because of the money, obviously. I mean, how many times had I let my stories be narrated for free in exchange for “exposure”? And how had that panned out for me? No, this time I’d take money. Given how stereotypical the channel looked (they only had one video, introducing the town of Pinefell with a spooky and obviously AI (ugh) voice), it didn’t seem like I’d have much room for creativity. I’d just be writing formulaic, trope-filled, utterly generic creepypastas.
I was sent a contract in standard legalese about what we’d discussed—I’d sell all rights for $300 per story, to belong to TSC (The Scream Collector). After I signed and sent back the contract, they sent me the guidelines.
This is where things got… weird.
I was asked to write the story in a Google doc—I’d be sent a link to the shared doc, but I wouldn’t be the primary owner, and would have no power to change the settings or anything like that. The document would belong to the channel.
I found this a bit controlling. But I was told since all stories were set in this shared universe in the small fictional town of Pinefell, and had to have shared elements, and since I was giving over all rights and it would belong to the channel, they’d rather have it in their own Google doc.
Made sense I guess. And they had some standard stipulations like 2-4k words, minimal dialogue, PG-13 (mild swearing OK but no f-bombs), all pretty normal for a story that would wind up being used as a narration.
But after this part… I’m just going to paste the rest of the guidelines here so you can read them:
Write ONLY in the Google doc, and not in any other document or file.
You may only write in the Google doc between the hours of 6-8pm.
You may not make any edits or changes outside of those hours.
Somewhere in the story, include the phrase: “Na Cu Oy Fi Em Hc Ta Co Ty Rt”
Do NOT speak this phrase aloud.
BEFORE writing, check your closet.
WHILE writing, be sure your door is locked.
AFTER writing, if the story is not yet finished, say aloud, “Scream Collector, do not come! There is nothing to collect,” then close the document. If the story is finished, say aloud, “Scream Collector, come and collect,” and type FIN at the end of the document before closing it.
This was all so bizarre. I mean, I assumed it was some sort of weird roleplay based on the channel concept, but the contract hadn’t mentioned anything about it so I messaged back TSC: These aren’t real guidelines, right? You don’t seriously want me to only write between 6-8pm?
TSC: The guidelines are part of a team effort for the universe we’re making, so yes, everyone involved needs to play along, writers included. That’s why we’re paying such a high price. And you’ll be expected to follow the theme we’ll send for each story. Write between 6-8pm, follow all guidelines. You only have to be “in character” while writing. The rest of your day is yours to be OOC. That’s why the limited time frame. So do you still want the commission? Y/N
ME: What if I break the guidelines?
TSC: Your payment is contingent on delivering a story that complies with guidelines. If your story doesn’t meet our guidelines, you won’t get paid, or you’ll be paid at a reduced rate, or otherwise penalized. Do you still want the commission? Y/N
… in the end, obviously, I took the commission. And the very first story I was asked to write, ironically, was a rules story, the most popular kind on Youtube and the Creepypasta website.
Here is the prompt I was sent:
The protagonist is a visitor to an Airbnb in Pinefell who finds a strange list of rules. They disappear after breaking a rule, their body eventually found dismembered in suitcases and lunchboxes hidden around a playground. Story should include 3-7 rules. (See attached playground photo for inspiration.)
I opened the attached photo of an old, abandoned playground in tall grass with a bright yellow spiraling plastic slide. Ugh, I thought. A rules story, really? The most basic spaghetti of creepypastas. I finally came up with some rules after googling pictures of AirBnB’s and looking at some of the rules hosts often have for guests. I tweaked a few normal rules to make them seem just a little off, jotted them down, and was about to type them in the Google doc when I realized it was only 11am.
Per the rules guidelines, I couldn’t begin writing until 6pm.
Such a stupid, arbitrary rule. Though it seemed bad form to break it immediately. Especially given the nature of the story I was writing. And I wasn’t getting paid until I actually delivered said story.
At 6pm, I was about to finally start drafting when I remembered the “check your closet” rule.
“Such nonsense,” I grumbled, getting up to stalk over to the closet and fling open the door. My one-bedroom apartment has two closets. One with sliding doors in the bedroom, the other a coat closet in the living room. I guess the bathroom also has a linen closet but it’s so small it’s almost more of a cupboard. Anyway I checked all of them. Then I plonked my butt into my desk chair and opened the Google doc and then remembered the “lock your door” rule so with a sigh I got up to check—but I generally always keep my door locked, and today was no exception. So I sat back down and started typing.
The story came easily. I don’t know if it was because of the two hour time limit, or what, but my fingers flew, and before long the entire story was finished. I even included the phrase Na Cu Oy Fi Em Hc Ta Co Ty Rt without any awkwardness—just had it scrawled in a room in the AirBnB, adding to the overall creepy vibe as the protagonist settles in.
Once or twice while writing, I spotted the cursor for another viewer on the Google doc.
Soon enough I finished writing.
I cleared my throat, rolled my eyes so hard they almost fell out of my head, and said aloud, “Hey Scream Collector, come and collect!”
I typed “FIN.”
Instantly, the story vanished.
The screen was just… blank. The entire Google doc wiped.
I started to freak out—not because I feared it was supernatural (I’d already seen the other cursor on there), but because my two hours of hard work! All those words! How could I prove that I actually—
Just then I got an email—the money was in my Paypal account. I’d just been paid $300 for the 2500 words I’d written.
I also got a new message with the next prompt:
A couple who are lost in the woods just outside Pinefell meet a skinwalker. At the end, only their skins are found.
Attached was a photo of some generic pine forest along hilly trails.
I sighed at the prompt. Not only another cliché, but a culturally appropriative one. Was every story going to be something off the top ten tropes list? What next, a grizzled detective and some unsolved murders? A bunch of kids meet Slenderman?
Still, money was money.
The next day, I started writing at 6pm (after checking the closets and locking the door). I didn’t finish the story though because I’ve never been a big fan of lost-in-the-woods stories. I like nature. I find it beautiful and relaxing, not scary. Not to mention I wasn’t sure what to do instead of a skinwalker—for now, I was going with “generic predatory monster,” but after getting halfway through the draft, it just wasn’t creepy enough, and I erased almost all of it. The time was 7:58pm so I logged off.
I fell asleep thinking about how I could make this lost-in-the-woods concept genuinely scary, and around 2am, I woke up with an idea. I went to the Google doc and added a description of an unseen predator that devours the insides of its prey, leaving only the skins like the husks of fruit. I was pretty groggy, not fully awake until suddenly I noticed… the lines I’d just added were being …
Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1g928sl/i_was_commissioned_to_write_a_horror_story_i_was/