The Trap

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In Berlin, after World War II, money was short, supplies were tight, and it seemed like everyone was hungry. At that time, people were telling the tale of a young woman who saw a blind man picking his way through a crowd. The two started to talk. The man asked her for a favor: could she deliver the letter to the address on the envelope? Well, it was on her way home, so she agreed.

She started out to deliver the message, when she turned around to see if there was anything else the blind man needed. But she spotted him hurrying through the crowd without his smoked glasses or white cane. She was, naturally, suspicious, so she went to the police.

When the police paid a visit to the address on the envelope, they made a gruesome discovery, three butchers had been harvesting human flesh and selling it to the starving people.

And what was in the envelope the man gave to the woman? A note, saying simply β€œThis is the last one I am sending you today.”

Original Author: Unknown

30 Comments on 'The Trap'

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  • Commented on May 1, 2013 at 3:09 am

    Small but very tasty, just how a late pasta should be =]

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  • Commented on June 6, 2013 at 2:54 am

    That really freaked me out! Good job!

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  • Commented on June 8, 2013 at 8:07 pm

    Good telling of the tale πŸ™‚

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  • Commented on June 25, 2013 at 11:58 pm

    Nope nope nope nope nope

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  • Commented on September 4, 2013 at 5:06 am

    Well damn that was some good pasta.

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  • Commented on September 9, 2013 at 4:11 pm

    Good pasta my friend found it scary also a good way to pass the time in school

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  • Commented on October 17, 2013 at 11:11 pm

    Cool

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  • Commented on November 1, 2013 at 10:42 am

    Woaaaaaaah this was brill. Well done. πŸ˜€

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  • Commented on November 4, 2013 at 7:16 pm

    Pretty good pasta, just needs a little more sauce. πŸ˜€

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  • Commented on January 4, 2014 at 7:42 pm

    they all float georgie

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  • Commented on February 13, 2014 at 1:01 pm

    this is a good story but was taken from a horrible histories book so…

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  • Commented on March 18, 2014 at 5:03 pm

    Oh shit…

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  • Commented on May 1, 2014 at 4:01 am

    Interesting concept

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  • Commented on July 1, 2014 at 8:43 am

    Thanks for butchering this pasta.
    The original post is titled ‘The Blind Man’s Favor’
    And it’s FAR better written than this garbage.
    Don’t go modifying other people’s work and posting it as your own. Not cool

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  • Commented on August 4, 2014 at 1:26 am

    It’s called creepypasta because it’s a creepy version of copypasta, in which case short stories from the internet are copied and pasted over and over again. The bloody point is to repost it, and the person who submitted it didn’t even claim the story as their own. The original author is clearly stated as “Unknown”. The person who submitted it (hey, Creepypasta Indexer, look at that), copied it from another site word-for-word, that’s how the creepypasta thing works.

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  • Commented on February 16, 2015 at 11:39 am

    Interesting and creepy πŸ™‚
    And am I the only one who began humming the tune to Sweeney Todd’s “A priest”? lol

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  • Commented on June 18, 2015 at 5:38 pm

    This was a good one! Short and captivating, 10/10 breads.

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  • Commented on June 19, 2015 at 9:19 pm

    Yes; perfect creepy factor, perfect twist.

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  • Commented on September 23, 2015 at 12:46 pm

    But who was phone?

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  • Commented on September 27, 2015 at 11:01 am

    Perfect, I find the more sinister ones are the better ones.

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  • Commented on November 2, 2015 at 7:00 am

    Near Perfection.

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  • Commented on December 2, 2015 at 7:28 pm

    Chilling!

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  • Commented on January 5, 2016 at 9:59 pm

    This is amazing! I love this so much! I think it is definitely a “mind fuck”. :3

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  • Commented on June 1, 2016 at 5:23 pm

    Same.

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  • Commented on June 1, 2016 at 5:26 pm

    Seems a downright shame
    Shame?
    Seems an awful waste
    Such a nice, plump frame

    Wot’s his name has
    Had
    Has
    Nor it can’t be traced!

    Business needs a lift
    Debts to be erased
    Think of it as thrift as a gift
    If you get my drift, no?

    Seems an awful waste
    I mean, with the price of meat
    What it is? When you get it
    If you get it
    Hah
    Good, you got it

    Take for instance, Mrs. Mooney and her pie shop
    Business never better using only pussycats and toast
    And a pussy’s good for maybe six or seven at the most
    And I’m sure they can’t compare as far as taste

    Mrs. Lovett, what a charming notion
    Well, it does seem a waste
    Eminently practical
    And yet appropriate as always, it’s an idea

    Mrs. Lovett, how I’ve lived
    Without you all these years, I’ll never know
    How delectable, also undetectable
    Think about it

    Lots of other gentlemen’ll
    Soon be comin’ for a shave
    Won’t they?
    Think of all them pies

    How choice
    How rare

    For what’s the sound of the world out there?
    What, Mr. Todd?
    What, Mr. Todd?
    What is that sound?

    Those crunching noises pervading the air
    Yes, Mr. Todd, yes, Mr. Todd
    Yes, all around
    It’s man devouring man, my dear
    And then who are we to deny it in here?

    These are desperate times
    Mrs. Lovett and desperate measures are called for
    Here we are, now, hot out of the oven
    What is that?

    It’s priest, have a little priest
    Is it really good? Sir, it’s too good, at least
    Then again, they don’t commit sins of the flesh
    So it’s pretty fresh

    Awful lot of fat only where it sat
    Haven’t you got poet, or something like that?
    No, y’see, the trouble with poet is
    ‘Ow do you know it’s deceased? Try the priest

    Heavenly
    Not as hearty as bishop, perhaps
    But then again
    Not as bland as curate, either

    And good for business too
    Always leaves you wantin’ more
    Trouble is
    We only get it on Sundays

    Lawyer’s rather nice
    If it’s for a price
    Order something else, though to follow
    Since no one should swallow it twice

    Anything that’s lean
    Well then, if you’re British and loyal
    You might enjoy Royal Marine
    Anyway, it’s clean

    Though of course it tastes of wherever it’s been
    Is that squire on the fire?
    Mercy, no sir, look closer
    You’ll notice it’s grocer

    Looks thicker, more like vicar
    No, it has to be grocer, it’s green

    The history of the world, my love
    Save a lot of graves
    Do a lot of relatives favors
    Is those below serving those up above

    Everybody shaves
    So there should be plenty of flavors
    How gratifying for once to know
    That those above will serve those down below

    Now let’s see, here we’ve got tinker
    Something pinker
    Tailor? Paler, Butler? Subtler
    Potter? Hotter, Locksmith?

    Lovely bit of clerk
    Maybe for a lark

    Then again there’s sweep
    If you want it cheap
    And you like it dark
    Try the financier, peak of his career

    That looks pretty rank
    Well, he drank, it’s a bank
    Cashier, never really sold
    Maybe it was old
    Have you any Beadle?

    Next week, so I’m told
    Beadle isn’t bad till you smell it and
    Notice ‘ow, well, it’s been greased
    Stick to priest

    Now then, this might be a little bit stringy
    But then of course it’s fiddle player
    No, this isn’t fiddle player, it’s piccolo player
    ‘Ow can you tell? It’s piping hot then blow on it first

    The history of the world, my sweet
    Oh, Mr. Todd, ooh, Mr. Todd
    What does it tell?
    Is who gets eaten, and who gets to eat

    And, Mr. Todd, too, Mr. Todd
    Who gets to sell
    But fortunately, it’s also clear
    That, but everybody goes down well with beer

    Since marine doesn’t appeal to you
    ‘Ow about rear admiral?
    Too salty, I prefer general
    With or without his privates? ‘With’ is extra

    What is that? It’s fop
    Finest in the shop
    And we have some shepherd’s pie peppered
    With actual shepherd on top

    And I’ve just begun
    Here’s the politician, so oily
    It’s served with a doily
    Have one, put it on a bun
    Well, you never know if it’s going to run

    Try the friar
    Fried, it’s drier
    No, the clergy is really
    Too coarse and too mealy

    Then actor, that’s compacter
    Yes, and always arrives overdone
    I’ll come again
    When you have judge on the menu

    Wait, true, we don’t have judge yet
    But we’ve got something you might fancy even better
    What’s that? Executioner

    Have charity towards the world, my pet
    Yes, yes, I know, my love
    We’ll take the customers that we can get
    High-born and low, my love

    We’ll not discriminate great from small
    No, we’ll serve anyone
    Meaning anyone
    And to anyone at all

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  • Commented on September 6, 2016 at 9:56 am

    This was decent but still a repeat of a repeat of a repeat nothing original

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  • Commented on October 23, 2016 at 12:24 pm

    I’ll now be forever suspicious of meat. Wow…

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  • Commented on December 14, 2016 at 10:35 am

    The author should be found. I suppose he/she has made others which we’d most likely like to read. Although this Pasta being small, it still gives a big punch. The original, however is still a lot better.

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  • Commented on April 30, 2017 at 2:24 pm

    Good read

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  • Vae Vobis
    Commented on October 24, 2017 at 3:18 am

    Boy, those were some hungry, bitter Germans. You could say they were sauerkrauts.

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