Creepypasta and True Scary Stories Episode 108
Welcome to Creepypasta and True Scary Stories. I am your host Spooky Boo. Today I have for you four very eerie stories from the internet. These stories are about terrifying secrets; secrets so horrifying that rarely do they let anyone know–except maybe their victims!
After listening to these wonderfully horrifying stories, head on over to my other podcast and listen to some of my stories at Spooky Boo’s Scary Story Time. You can also listen to both podcasts commercial free at the Spooky Boo Club at www.spookyboo.club. You can also find me on YouTube on Saturday nights in the Creature Features chat room having fun with my friends while we watch Vincent Van Dahl interview amazing guests. Check it out at www.creaturefeatures.tv.
For a transcript of this show with details about the stories and their authors visit www.creepypastascarystories.com.
Now let’s begin….
Story Number One
Secrets of the Seekers
He couldn’t move. His arms, legs, abdomen and neck were tied to what seemed to be a large, metallic chair. The air was rank and heavy, his lungs were struggling to breath. His eyes wide shut, hoping that this is some weird nightmare, he dared not witness the horrifying reality that surrounded him. Fear and desperation overtook his mind and, realising that he’s not dreaming, he opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings. The man’s stomach churned. The sense of dread he felt at that moment could drive any lesser man to insanity but he managed, barely, to keep his wits about him.
His name was Christopher Curwen, a 32 year old Psychology professor from Brussels, Belgium. Captivated by the way people think since he first discovered Russian literature, he pursued his dream to become a psychologist until he got the offer of being a lecturer in a renowned university. He disliked teaching, but the pay was pretty good, so he stuck with it.
Eyes wide shut again. His mind was terribly clouded, struggling to remember who he is and how did he get in this unimaginable place. “Think, think, damn you! Focus!” he thought to himself. Being so close to loss of sanity, Christopher kept his mind focused on recalling what brought him in this terrible situation.
It was a cold night of November. Julie, Christopher’s wife, asked him to go to the store and buy candy and sweets, for it was the night before Halloween. Having been a big fan of that holiday in his childhood, her husband set for the supermarket to buy some treats for the kids sure to trick or treat them tomorrow. The lecturer’s last memory was looking at some chocolate bars when his body just went numb and he fainted. And it was so strange, because the man could feel himself fainting, he felt how he slipped away
Far from that little supermarket down the street where he lived, Christopher was in some strange, part organic, part mechanical room. The windowless walls were made of flesh and metal, advanced mainframes and computers were mixed in with pulsing, organic mass. Worse thing was, he wasn’t alone in that large, yet claustrophobic room. They had humanoid form, and yet they were so different. Their skin and flesh was transparent, like a jellyfish’s. They had no bones, except for a thin spine on their backs. The organs and the few, white blood vessels could be easily seen through their layer of nigh-invisible skin. But the most striking part of their body was their brains, their immense brains towering above the fragile-looking body, pink, glowing faintly and connected to every other organ with a series of tiny neural vessels. Their face (if it could be called like that) had little, distanced eyes, almost like dots, and a pale, crab-like mouth, with teeth on their thin, wide lips. They were cast into a bulky, long and metalic electronic chair, just like Christopher’s, although in full control of the machines, transporting themselves around, connecting their bodies to mainframes via small, organic wires growing out of their bellies, digesting the received data and moving on to next terminal.
The room hosted four of them, but only three seemed to work. The other was facing the man, staring at him in a curious manner. Chris was deathly frightened of the alien-looking creature, trying to avoid its gaze by focusing on the other horrors surrounding him. Around the walls, floor and ceiling, millions of minuscule cables and veins were scattered, grotesque organ-like objects were pulsing in computers and the other devices, and the chair-locked creatures were moving eratically from monitor to monitor, connecting to each with cables ejected from the chair. The staring one moved closer to him, much to the captured professor’s terror. A small orifice opened from the creature’s chair, revealing a white and brown ringed worm making its way out of that hole, slowly crawling on the floor towards the human. It climbed onto Christopher’s body, eventually reaching his neck. A sudden electric jolt felt from the back of his neck made him open his mouth wide and paralyzed it, allowing the worm to crawl inside it. It didn’t stop. It made its way up, inside the lecturer’s head, in the inside of his nose, and then even upper. He eventually felt the worm burying into his brain, a sensation that did not cause the man any pain, yet it felt so horrible and wrong. A strange feeling overtook his body, as the worm dissolved into a cold, thin fluid. After a rush of unusual, intense euphoria, Christopher fainted again.
And he dreamt. He dreamt a dream about unimaginable shapes, unknown colours, dark lights and bright shadows, infinite darkness and solid light, undescribable horrors and empyrean wonders. Time, space and reality were distorted as the dream changed the structure of his brain. Concepts forever unknown to mankind showed themselves to him, twisting and bending his simple human imagination to the extreme, giving Chris the power to grasp these otherwordly things.
He woke up. As soon as the man woke up, happiness and euphoria flooded his vastly expanded mind. While aware of the current situation, the man wasn’t worried, even though that felt wrong. Something seemed to block that feeling, leaving him dizzy with pleasure and bliss. Still in the same room, still being stared at by the overly curious creature. He couldn’t do much else than stare back, until the alien-looking entity moved its mouth. No sound came out of those crab-like lips, instead, a continous barrage of thoughts, of concepts that made no sense to him, and yet felt connected to eachother, assaulted Christopher’s brain, as in some sort of mental communication. The alien being seemed to take notice of the human’s reaction to its peculiar way of conversation and transported itself to a biomechanic terminal, where the entity shot several of its veins into a socket next to the computer’s monitor. Nothing seemed to happen. It pulled its veins back and returned to its initial position. The poor man tried to make sense out of all this, but his mind was numbed by that bizarre sense of satisfaction, making thinking of anything more complex than a square a struggle. How he wished he could block that feeling of happiness from his brain! It was maddening, having his thoughts overtaken by worthless ecstasy.
To make things worse, his mind was bombarded by another train of alien thoughts, although not from the creature standing in front of him, but from one of its colleagues, who just transported itself in the room. It was so terribly strange, being able to pinpoint where do these thoughts came from. But stranger was the fact that the thoughts actually made some sort of sense. The aliens sent thoughts to eachother, and those thoughts were of concepts of the things they tried to say. His understanding of this uncanny form of communication could only be attributed to the peculiar, parasitic worm nested in his brain. Judging from what the aliens “said”, the formation of some sort of key was delayed. The other alien left the room, leaving Christopher with the other interlocutor in front of him, staring continously.
“I just want to go back home, please, don’t hurt me.” Chris tried to say. But instead of talking with his voice, he projected, somehow, the idea and the concepts of that sentence in the brain of that alien organism. He could feel a communication channel between the two of them, a thought relay. The creature seemed very surprised to hear that. Almost hurriedly, the being guided one of its veins into Christopher’s half-mechanic half-organic seat, burying itself into one of the chair’s jacks. That sent a jolt of electricity up the man’s spine and, while it did hurt quite a bit, it also removed the maddening euphoria clouding his brain, allowing him to think freely.
“Do you understand me?” The alien comunicated, pouring a stream of thoughts into Christopher’s mind.
“Yes!” Chris replied. He expected to be asked another question, but the alien stood still and silent. Trying his luck, the man asked:
“Where am I?”
“The Testership. Currently floating in space. Measured in your standard distance measuring unit, 3000 km, away from Earth.”
The thought of being 3000 km away from his planet terrified the already scared lecturer, making him shudder, as much as the metallic hinges allowed him to.
“Why was I brought here?”
The creature looked at the little professor as if his question made no sense.
“To be tested.”
“What for?”
“Answering that would require explaining.” The creature made a pause. “I will explain. Your key has been delayed, so there is enough time to describe the seeking process, if I am listened to.”
Hesitating, Christopher finally said, “I will listen.”
“I will begin. I am part of a grand species which call ourselves Seekers. Our purpose in this life is to reach absolute knowledge, to unlock every mystery of the universe. Omniscience. Your race, the most intelligent on this planet, has manifested similar wishes, but your methods are on an exponentially smaller scale. Knowledge, for humans, is merely a collection of truths, for Us, bearers of far greater intelligence, a whole dimension that we can reach and harvest truths from. As we are merely physical beings, we cannot enter that realm. The closest we can get is the Way, an infinite Labyrinth in which that dimension leaks wisdom. Our task is to travel the Labyrinth, harvest brilliance and store it into the Universal Mind, a collective databank which every Seeker can access. Once Omniscience is achieved, our species can ascend into a higher plane of existence, abandoning this puny physical form. As to what are you tested for, it will be verified whether your species is fit to ascend to being a Seeker. You have been chosen, as a random, average individual of your species, to be tried. Should the test be positive, the Mother will transport itself here and absorb and, afterwards, alter the human inhabitants of this planet.” And it stopped.
All this… all this was too much for a thirty-two year old lecturer to comprehend. After a period of intense brainstorming, he came up with this single question:
“And if I do not pass the test?”
“Your race will be obliterated, since you would have no part to play in our grand plan. We will send drones into your planet’s atmosphere and raise the quantity of oxygen. Nothing would survive.” The answer came fast, like an electric jolt, leaving the poor man in absolute despair. If he has been terrified since he woke up in this outlandish place, now, knowing that the extinction, in one way or another, of his whole race was at stake, shattered his wits, a sense of impending doom overtaking his whole body. All his friends, family, pupils, every person met and every person he didn’t met were about to be destroyed or turned into slaves.
“It might not happen. You show signs of above-average intelligence, and your brain accepted the neural worm with relative ease. Your key will be ready soon and we shall find out the tr-” The alien stopped. One of his coleagues entered the room and communicated with him. Christopher could only understand parts of the dialogue, since those thoughts weren’t directed to him. The key was ready, that’s what he understood, and that information horrified the professor. Both creatures turned to him. His interlocutor announced:
“It is time.” And he shot one of his chair’s wires into the man’s own. He instantly felt dizzy and numb, and the wire retracted. His chair moved by itself out of the main room, taking him into another, fully organic one, as if it was inside some sort of creature. A small chamber, with red, meaty walls and no lights. As the door behind him closed, he felt those walls surrounding him, growing, eventually completely covering Christopher’s body. Even though he was anesthetized, he felt is hand being cut by what seemed to be a million little teeth. Replacing his hand was a metallic feeling object thrusted deeply inside the remains of his arm, leaving a bit outside. The key welded itself into his hand and after it connected to the brain, he could feel as the strange object searched all the contents of his mind. Chris fainted.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, we still haven’t found any trace of him. No witnesses, no clues, nothing. Except for some crazy talk” the officer said.
“What do you mean by crazy talk?”
“Ehh… a nutjob told us that he saw your husband vanish out of thin air. Disappear. It was probably some junkie trying to screw with us. He certainly looked the part, but you shouldn’t let this trouble your mind. In fact, you should go get some sleep. Being up all night searching for Christopher and all. Just leave it to us and get some rest. Good day.” And the officer left.
Sleep, yeah, that’d be nice, she felt soo tired. But the thought of her husband being in danger wouldn’t let Camellia Curwen rest. Christopher had got to be somewhere. It’s just that she didn’t know where to look. Up? She looked up, for some funny reason. Blue sky stretching out for miles, its center decorated with one bright burning dot. Something was peculiar, though. There was another dot, but black, growing bigger and bigger. And that was not the only strange thing. People all around them turned into streams of light and flew rapidly to the little black dot. She screamed her husband’s name as she was teleported to the Mother.
And Christopher was not there. No, he was in the Labyrinth, travelling at mind-numbing speeds between claustrophobic walls of flesh and biologic matter, hunting for cracks into the dimension of knowledge, ingesting the seeping wisdom and returning his findings to the Universal Mind. Forever. His body was changed after receiving the key, turning him into a Seeker. Driven by the electric chair, doomed to spend an eternity wandering an infinite labyrinth, slave to his new brethren’s thirst for brilliance. What his brethren didn’t know is that, unlike any other race they have met in this universe, the human brain does not adapt completely to the Key. On other species, if the Key is accepted, the brain is rewritten completely and emptied, the computerized chair acting as a secondary brain and performing all the tasks required for harvesting wisdom. It fails to do so on human brains, leaving it intact, allowing the human to think, see and feel. Some humans, because of partial incompatibilities with the key retain their mouth and their voice. And their screams echo through the hallways of the Labyrinth for eternity.
Story Number Two
Unsightly Thing
by BloodySpaghetti
Every single night, for as long as he could remember, Johan would climb up the hilltop not far from his family’s ranch. Every single night, after being done with the farm work, Johan would climb that hilltop to pray. Johan wouldn’t pray for a resolution of an issue that had plagued him, nor for a cure to a terrible disease. He prayed for something rather simple and pointless at first glance – Johan prayed to be visited by an angel. He had neither a request to make nor a desire for a personal blessing. The man merely wished to behold an angel in all of its celestial glory.
Johan grew up a member of the Orthodox church, the church which venerates the angelic hosts. On top of his orthodox upbringing, Johan’s community had a few accounts of divine intervention. Imitations of Byzantine decorating the interior of his local church awed him to no end. That and the descriptions of heavenly beings caused the man to lust for a glance at the children of his lord. It was after an innocent wish, was it not? The mere will to behold the sacred glory of the hosts. Johan prayed every single night to be allowed to view the sight of an angelic entity. He was nothing short of a pious man. After years of praying and wishing, the Lord had finally allowed it.
On a cloudy night, right after Johan had finished his nightly prayer, the sky cracked with a thundering noise. Assuming the rain was about to pour, Johan made his way down the hill, hoping to make it home before he got drenched. As he made his way down, the voices of a choir echoed through the night’s sky. The singing was so beautiful it was almost surreal, prompting Johan to stop and look around, hoping to find the source of the singing. He could not even understand the singing at first. Looking left and right, the man could not see a thing. Looking up, he saw the clouds being torn apart. The sight stunned the man, and he stared as the clouds drifted farther apart, revealing a menagerie of beautiful colors, unlike the ones he had ever seen before. There were all kinds of shades he could not name or even properly fathom. It was so bright and beautiful, both vibrantly luminescent and dim. Shifting that way and that, like a living rainbow. The longer the farmer stared, the more unearthly details seemed to fill his field of vision.
Johan stood frozen in place as the singing of the choir had slowly become clearer and the thing above him in the sky grew more bizarre. In no time, the man faced a massive structure made up of lights, heads, and eyes, flapping grotesque wings and animal parts. Was this an angel? In Johan’s mind, the idea made no sense. Angelic entities must be beautiful, that’s what he was thought. The artistic depictions, the scriptures, all paint the holy hosts as an army of beings of untold beauty.
Once the heavenly being revealed its full glory to Johan, it struck the man with terror. His heart was attempting to escape through his ribcage, his eyes glued to the unsightly thing above him, and his ears flooded with the singing of the angelic choir. The presence of the celestial entity burnt out Johan’s eyes. He screamed like a wild animal as the withering animal parts, ever-shifting eyes and wings danced around burning miniature suns until the farmer could no longer tell one from the other. He screamed for as long as his eyes were burning until there was nothing but the eerie darkness left.
Once robbed of his sight, the man finally tore his gaze away from the sky and collapsed to his knees. The singing of the choir became painfully intelligible, and a thick liquid ran down the man’s cheeks. The voices that started off warm and inviting turned hollow and cold as they sang.
“O child of the arch-human
Behold the luminous heavenly sun rise
As the aether flows above
With the soil of the garden coiling below in abyssal water
The locusts of the Pentacrator are beset by ravenous hunger
Praised thee for your sacrifice”
Johan’s heart sunk, the meaning his encounter with the divine weighted greatly on him. The weight of a philistine temple seemed to grow on top of his shoulders, Johan for as pious as he could be not accept such a fate. He tried to protest, to reason with the angelic entity, but it was too late.
Before he could even utter a sound, the skies rained fire upon him. All he could do was scream as the heavenly flames ate at his flash. All he could do was scream until there was not enough of him left to do so.
Story Number Three
Feeder
by Jdeschene
Gunther whistled as he strolled into his local fish store, his white plastic bucket swinging past his knees. He loved this place—Fish Dreams, they called it. So much better than any of the big chain pet stores.
With a hop in his step, he walked straight up to the young man behind the counter. He seemed barely older than a boy—to guess he was twenty-one seemed generous. The golden hair he had tied into a bun made him seem a little bit sissy to Gunther, but to each their own. The rest of him was all angles: high cheeks, square jaw, broad shoulders. Overall, not a bad specimen of youthful manhood.
“Good afternoon, sir,” the boy said with a cheery smile. “How can I help you today?”
“Hey there,” Gunther said in his usual, friendly known-you-all-my-life manner. “What’s your name, boy?” He raised his sunglasses to get a better look at the lad.
“Josh, sir,” said the boy.
“Josh,” Gunther repeated. “You new here?”
Josh smiled. “Very,” he said. “Just hours into my first day.”
“Well!” Gunther held out his hand and gave Josh’s a firm shake. “Welcome to your new workplace, Josh. We’re going to get to know each other real well. I’m what you might call a ‘frequent flier.’”
“Oh yeah?” Josh maintained his pleasantness, but it was clear to Gunther that he was running out of things to say.
“Absolutely,” Gunther answered. “In fact, you’re just about to learn what my ‘usual’ is.” He plunked the bucket onto the counter. “I’d like you to fill her up as much as you can with your cheapest feeders.”
“Oh,” Josh said, his eyes lighting up. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to upgrade to the better ones? They’re only fifty cents more and—”
Gunther’s laugh cut the boy off. “Look at you,” he said. “Doing what they taught you, trying to upsell me.” He laughed again as he watched Josh’s face redden. “It’s a good try,” Gunther continued, “but I’ve been doing this a long time and I know exactly what my girl likes to eat.”
“Of course,” Josh said.
Together, they made their way through the store toward the racking system at the back, chatting away as they went.
“What kind of fish do you have?” Josh asked.
“Oh, she’s hard to describe,” Gunther said. “I guess you could say she’s a hybrid. Made her myself.”
“Cool. Do you have any pictures?”
“Nope,” said Gunther. He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a twenty-year-old flip phone. “I’m a little behind when it comes to fancy technology, but occasionally, I put videos of her on the internets. You might even have seen a few depending on which hobby forums you frequent.”
“Cool,” Josh repeated. “What’s her name?”
“Well, hell, son,” Gunther said with a laugh. “To tell you the truth, I don’t much believe in giving them names. It’s not like they’re a dog you take for a walk or a person you can talk to. You know what I mean?”
“Oh, sure,” Josh said.
At last, they reached their destination. Before them stood tank upon tank, filled nearly to bursting with shimmering schools of the doomed.
“These ones?” Josh asked, pointing to the bottommost tank. Compared to the golds and silvers in the other tanks, the fish in this one were a weak, sickly gray. Some darted around frantically while others seemed to struggle to the top, nearly making it before sinking back down again. The tank’s bare bottom was littered with no fewer than ten dead fish.
“Those are the ones,” Gunther confirmed. “Fill ‘er up, would you? And don’t skip the dead ones. She seems to like those the best.”
Josh shrugged and did as Gunther asked, filling his bucket with as much as it would hold. The young man even offered to lug it back to the front counter for him, a courtesy Gunther eagerly accepted.
The trek back was hard on the boy, but Gunther seemed to find the whole situation very amusing. Occasionally, he slapped Josh on the back and gave trite words of encouragement. These came in between sharp, raspy peels of laughter.
At last, the fish were all paid for and Gunther was about to leave the store.
“Sir,” Josh said suddenly.
“Yes?” Gunther said, turning back to face him.
“I don’t know if this is appropriate,” the boy said, “but I’m really into hybrids. Could I give you my email address so maybe you can… show her to me?”
Gunther was silent for a moment, but let a smile creep across his lips. “I don’t see why not,” he said at last. Josh hurriedly wrote his email address on the back of Gunther’s receipt.
“You know,” Gunther said, “I’ve been thinking it’s getting time to see if she’ll breed for me. I’ve been sort of half-assed searching for the right mate.”
“Oh, really?” Josh’s eyes lit up. “Well, once I see her, maybe I could give you some recommendations.”
Gunther nodded. “Oh, no doubt. I’ll see you again real soon about that. Don’t you worry.”
Gunther hopped in his truck and drove straight home. His girl was hungry and he had what she needed. Once there, he picked up the bucket with a strength it seemed a man his age ought not to have, and hefted it into his house through a side entrance. Down the set of stone steps he went, the air swirling around him getting colder and wetter with every step. Finally, he reached the bottom and called into the cavernous basement room, “Daddy’s home!”
Immediately inside the room was a video camera, flanked by a pair of standing lights. Gunther knew the setup was old fashioned, but none of his faithful followers seemed to mind. It was the content they cared about, and he was more than happy to provide.
Beyond the camera was a massive fish tank. He’d had it custom built, capable of holding two thousand gallons, but there was no water inside. Piss, shit, and tears, perhaps, but he never let them pile up. He had to keep things clean for the viewers.
Gunther flipped a switch and the lights snapped to life. The fish tank’s sole inhabitant stirred as if she were startled. Gunther smiled. He loved the way her flesh jiggled when she moved suddenly.
She was a human female, probably around thirty, though Gunther had forgotten exactly when he bred her. She was fat, pink, and red all over with scraggles of what would be blonde hair. She’d inherited that from the woman he used to make her. Her face, or at least what he could see of it through the folds of fat, was all him.
She made her usual gurgling whine as she dragged herself toward the front of the tank. Her legs trailed uselessly behind her, never having been used. Reaching the front, she wailed at Gunther, and gnashed her rotten, broken teeth. Such displays were her only form of communication. Gunther was grateful. It meant all conversations went exactly his way.
“Hey there, baby,” Gunther said. “I’ll bet you’re real hungry.”
She whined more vehemently and jiggled all over, as if “hungry” was a word she recognized.
Gunther laughed. “All right, all right. Hold your horses.”
He pulled over a stool and stood on it. As soon as he opened the tank’s lid, the woman reached a meaty hand up to try and grab him. He quickly slapped it down, eliciting more whines and groans.
“Down! Down, you greedy bitch!” Gunther snapped. The woman complied. Stupid as she was, Gunther knew she was fully aware of what disobedience would get her.
He hoisted the bucket of feeder fish up to the edge of the tank and tipped it in. A slurry of fish and water splashed all over the woman. At first, she squinted and shielded her eyes, but soon began to grab at the little morsels she’d been given. By the handful, she shoved living and dead fish into her mouth and mashed them about with what teeth she had left. She fell quiet as she ate. Only the sounds of squishing and slurping filled the room.
Gunther smiled. “That’s right,” he said. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength. Daddy went out and found you something special today. You know what he found you? Huh? A mate! That’s right! We’re going to try and get you to make a whole mess of little babies.”
He laughed as he closed the lid and climbed down.
“About time, too,” he said to himself. “The community’s been begging for ages. I’m going to make me a fortune!”
This is Spooky Boo. Thank you for listening. If you enjoyed these stories please head on over the the website at www.creepypastascarystories.com and make a comment. Your comment might be played on the show at a later time. You can also call in your comment to be played in your own voice by calling 707-SPOOKYBOO-22.
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That’s all for tonight. I’ll see you in your nightmares.
