"Death of" was a 4chan post found on /x/. It had the title of "deathof" at the beggining of the post, it appeared to be a pretty normal 4chan creepypasta, something that is common in places like /x/.
Although the post was deleted and reuploaded several times, all on different users, the reuploading could just be explained by the very nature of creepypastas, a word derived from "copypasta", but the constant deletions of the posts go unexplained,
specially considering that some threads where this post was hosted got immediately locked or even deleted by moderators after the story was made.
One of the few screenshots of a "deathof" post, this one appears to be a reupload, as it's from a pretty late date, and doesn't have the title of "deathof" at the beggining of the post, it also appears to be weirdly unformatted.
11/23/97
Another one to the bunch.
An IT guy, i think. He was certainly dressed like it. I used a wrench. Direct hit to his head. He spoke in this weirdly calm annoying voice. Asked me if I wanted to do an appointment with his boss or something like that. Didn't listen, i wasn't here for that.
I've had my eyes on that guy for a while. He was always in this office, waiting room or whatever this is supposed to be. I've never seen him leave. Nobody seems to enter here either. Perfect victim.
Now i have to get rid of the body. It smells terrible here.
But...
It's not the usual smell of dead bodies I'm accostumed to. It smells like, rotten egg.
be that this office is old. It looks dirty and everything is somehow yellowed. As if it was exposed to the sun, even though this office probably hasn't seen natural light in years.
What a weirdo.
11/24/97
I got rid of the body, trash compactor.
No one seems to notice.
The office is still open somehow, the lights are on, no police in sight though.
Who owns this place? They must not give a shit about that employee.
Oh well. That's good for me I guess.
11/25/97
The wrench.
I forgot the fucking wrench.
I was looking for it for today's hunt and it's not fucking here.
I got out running out of my apartment. One of my stupid neighbors got in my way. I was getting really pissed so i started screaming at them. I pushed them off the stairs.
Great, i thought, more evidence for the police to find me. But when i peeked to see the splattered remains of my neighbor, i instead saw,
him. Fully intact, not a single scratch. They weren't even unconscious.
That was a 5 floor fall. Yet it was as if he tripped on the sidewalk.
I can't deal with this right now. I'll wait in my apartment and pray nobody finds the wrench until tomorrow.
11/25/97
What the hell.
Today i went back into the office. Looked the same. Smelled the same. Found the wrench.
That's not important.
He was back.
How the fuck.
He stood there. Looking like a snarky shithead.
"Can i help you sir?"
Yes, if you were dead.
I quickly grabbed the wrench and put it in my backpack.
"No, it's just that a tool fell from my bag, I'm fine"
"Alright sir, but if you need anything I'll be waiting for you at the counter"
How is he alive. And how is he still so cheery?
I saw his corpse, how is he still here as if nothing happened?!
And that smell, what the fuck was that smell? Where is it coming from?
I grabbed my wrench and streaked him again. I had to hit him 3 times this time. He's dead now, and i won't leave the wrench here again, but what the fuck?
I decided to leave the body inside a closet this time, no one else seemed to work here so i don't think they would notice.
While i did that i decided to at least find out what was this building. It was empty, a few computers and terminals but apart from that not a lot. I saw a spreadsheet detailing "People" with two different sides, one red and one green, both had names, full names of people, i didn't recognize any. Apart from that it seemed meaningless. Was this a shell company?
There were two doors apart from the entrance and a closet. No bathroom.
After that i left.
11/25/97
He's back.
I killed him. Twice. And he's back.
What the fuck is happening?
I thought I could just forget about that and kill someone else but today as i passed through that street, he was there.
I immediately ran off to my apartment.
I need to find out what the fuck is up with that guy. I need to find a way to kill him permanently. Does he remember? Fuck who's he gonna tell. I can't go to jail.
Another thing. My wrench is missing again. But i know for a fact i didn't leave it there. Someone took it.
I'm going back there tomorrow. Bringing a gun this time.
11/26/97
I killed him again. It's basically routine at this point. I'm staying here overnight. To see what happens. How does he come back. I need to find out.
I also found where that smell comes from. One of the doors. It stinks. Yet when i open the door it's empty. What have i stumbled upon? His body is there. I left it there. I need to see what happens.
11/27/97
Fuck.
11/29/97
He's still talking to me with that stupid fucking voice. I already bashed his head open countless times. He won't fucking die. His corpse just disappears when I'm not looking. "What do you need sir?"
"Your appointment is tomorrow"
"Sign this paperwork" shut up shut the fuck up.
The fluorescent lights are burning my eyes, the air conditioning doesn't work for some reason and it's burning in here. I have not seen a single person outside the window in 3 days. And that smell that awful stink it grows and grows every day.
I can't let him live. He knows what i did.
Even if he doesn't fucking say anything i can see it in his eyes he knows what i did.
11/30/97
He stared at me with my wrench in his hand.
"Sir, your appointment is today, enter the meeting when you're ready"
He smiled.
"What the fuck are you" i asked
"I'm just doing my job sir"
"What even is your job? You just fucking stand here watching me. You're supposed to be dead"
"Sir that would be bad for business, my bosses would kill me!" He laughed, which infuriated me. But i couldn't kill him. It would be useless.
"My job is in sorting, everyone needs to go to their respective fields, filtered down through their performance on the job." He hold my wrench upright, pointing at the door marked as "Lower offices".
"Your appointment is there."
He knows the things i did.
"I know the office is not to great standards as of now, but we prepare everything with great care on how our employees might deserve their workplace to be!"
It stinks.
"Now, I'll wait for you to enter your appointment, our bosses downstairs can be harsh though, so be careful."
I'm writing this as he watches me. Waiting. Staring. He knows where i have to go.
That smell. It isn't rotten egg. It isn't garbage. It isn't the walls rotting with humidity.
It's sulphur.
A fairly decent creepypasta, if a bit generic, pretty disturbing although that's expected. Doesn't appear to have that much air of mystery outside of the story itself, although, those post deletions and weird mod abuse towards it is... strange.