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.
In the last photo, taken at 3:13 AM that same night, Zachary was smiling. And he was holding Derek’s phone.
Here’s a short creepypasta-style story based on the name : Title: The Last Picture of Zachary
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
With something sharp.
The timestamp read: Just now.
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. The reply came at 3:13 AM: Derek laughed
Zachary’s face in every photo had been scratched out.
From the inside. Want me to continue the story or turn it into a narrated video script?
The school said the negatives were corrupted. The yearbook advisor said she had no memory of taking his picture. In the last photo, taken at 3:13 AM
Until the yearbook came out.
Except in the last one.
One kid, Derek, decided to text Zachary about it. He scrolled through his contacts— Zachary M. —and sent: Hey, why aren’t you in the yearbook?
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.
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.