I know you probably won’t believe me, but I swear this is a true story. It happened to me, and I still find it hard to believe. This is my personal experience of what can only be described as “Cliché.Exe”
I make videos on YouTube about all kinds of scary video game aspects. It could be strange easter eggs, scary locations, frightening moments, or even creepypastas. I would have never dreamt that I’d be writing one myself.
A lot of my viewers send in suggestions and games that they want me to review. I had no reason to think there was anything weird about this one. It was just a typical day, nothing out of the ordinary. I received a strange package with my name on it. There was no return address, no other name… Nothing! After opening, I found two bootleg disks. The first I found only had three letters written on the disk with black marker. Those letters were “L-S-D” It was none other than the Japanese cult classic, “LSD Dream Emulator” I even did an episode on it, all before even glancing at the 2nd disc. I almost wish I never had.
The other disc sat there on my desk. On it, again written in black marker were the words “Cliché.exe” I have heard about this before. It was suppose to be a collection of the most ridiculous video game creepypasta tropes ever known to man. No one could handle that horror!
Strange things slowly began to happen. I heard voices throughout my house. They started out as whispers and at times sounding like cries (of pain). Someone must have been playing Superman 64. Footsteps could be heard, objects began moving on their own. You might call me crazy, but I swear I heard what sounded like a “Kefka” laugh from Final Fantasy. My electronics acted like they had a mind of their own. Things would wind up missing, and later reappearing. A strange shadowy figure would show up at times, just out of nowhere. All weird things considered, I felt that I handled it pretty well.
I still could not bear to even open the Cliché.exe disc, but I couldn’t help to feel like the game was calling to out to me. It wanted me to play it. Even though I knew better, especially considering that most people in creepypasta’s die a horrible death, I still decided to play the game.
Once I opened up the disc, I found a bunch of other well-known creepypasta’s that I had already reviewed. There was Ben Drowned, The Tails Doll Curse, Sonic.exe, as well as the MARIO Creepypasta. I didn’t see anything new, so I just went about my day.
While working on a new episode of my YouTube series, the shadow figure again appeared to me. We caught up on old times before he finally delivered unto me, a letter. Adding to the mystery, there was no name on the letter. Growing tired of these odd occurrences, I read it immediately. It said:
Dear Mullet Mike,
I am sorry I have to be such a bad friend and send these discs to you, but I can no longer carry their burdens. LSD is not so bad, but whatever you do, don’t open Cliché.exe. It was the worst mistake I had ever made. I went to Gamestop recently. For some reason there was an old, half blind, asian man behind the counter. He claimed he was the only one working there that day. It got weirder when he insisted I take the “Cliche.exe” disc, free of charge. I didn’t even ask for it. He screamed to the top of his lungs, telling me that I “MUST TAKE IT” It was even stranger that he was yelling at the used Wii games, I guess he was half blind after all. I took it home, played it, and instantly regretted. I sent the the disc to you because I am a very selfish shitty friend. After all you have expertise on these dark subjects. If anyone knew what to do with the disc, it would be you. You claimed that you finally opened the disc and all you found was “other cliché creepypastas” but I assure you that you are wrong, you must have missed it! You must look into it, but whatever you do, PLEASE DO NOT PLAY THE GAME! It will literally open up a portal to your worst hell. Good luck to you Mike. Sorry again for being such a sucky friend.
I again opened the disc and to my surprise was a folder marked MISC. I swear I didn’t see it before. I opened it up, and there it was… an .exe program named “Cliché.” So I followed my better judgment, and played the game. Yeah, I know. I couldn’t help it.
I then witnessed one of the most horrific things I’d ever seen… It was E.T. for the Atari 2600. It was horrifying! The gameplay was already bad enough, but then it was as if the game started to come to life. It’s strange but I felt like E.T was trying to communicate with me. Compelled to keep playing, I forced myself to turn it off. I decided to go back to work and try to get my mind off of it. That’s when it began.
I was finishing a review I had been working on at the time when I began to hear what sounded like a child’s laughter. It was one of the creepiest things I had ever heard! The closet door of my office began to rattle as if someone (or something) was trying to break through. The door then proceeded to open on its own. I sat in intense anticipation waiting for someone to enter, but they never did. I know I should have just left, but I couldn’t! I had to see what was on the other side of that door!
As I got closer to the closet, the shit started hitting the fan! Objects began moving on their own, voices could be heard, my entire house began to shake. I opened the door and before my very eyes was a (literal) portal to hell. The letter was right. Cliché.exe had a mysterious power behind it. The swirling vortex called out to me, begging me to enter. So I shut the door.
That was it. That’s all I could handle. It had built up to this moment. Rather than pawning the disc off on someone else, I decided to take matters into my own hands. The disc had to be destroyed.
I took the disc outside and grabbed one of the most cliché horror movie weapons of all time, a chainsaw. I had enough! I started the chainsaw in a mad craze. I began laughing uncontrollably. The relief knowing that this disc was about to be no more, was almost overwhelming. As I cut through the disc, I felt like all the evil that has been haunting me, leave almost instantly.
Finally! It was done. All was well, although I’ve got to admit… After Cliché.exe, I don’t think I will ever be the same again.