As The Raven Dreams Podcast - Can You Hear That by As The Raven Dreams | #Creepypasta Narration

Episode Date: October 9, 2023

Can you hear that? That...sound? It's very quiet, but it's there. I swear it's... it's going to drive me MAD! What Is a Creepypasta? A Creepypasta is a fire-side story, one told on a dark night, under the stars; the intentions are to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and keep you up at night. If you Enjoy Creepypasta, consider subscribing as I will post here frequently. On my main Channel, As The Raven Dreams, I do true scary stories multiple times a week, including; Deep Web Horror stories, Creepy Let's not meet stories, Stalker stories, Glitch in the matrix stories, and much more! Send a Scary Story My Way! ➤ https://www.astheravendreams.com/ Or Post it to my Subreddit ➤ https://reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream 'As The Raven Dreams' is a community where we explore the darker parts of human existence through true and harrowing stories. From sinister encounters with strangers and stalkers, to terrifying experiences that defy explanation and unsettling mysteries that linger in the shadows, I am here to tell you the most haunting narratives ever whispered. Much Love, and Sleep Well... [TimeStamps] 0:00 ➤ Hit That THUMBS UP Button if you like Today's [TOPIC] Stories! 0:06 ➤ Can You Hear That By @AsTheRavenDreams 14:06 ➤ Leave A Comment, Let Me Know What You Thought! ----- ➤ Videos include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Viewer discretion is always advised. ➤ ALL Audio and visuals in this video are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format, without explicit permission, including replication of voice with AI technologies. #CreepyPasta #AsTheRavenDreams #Nosleepstories --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/support Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It's never too early to plan your summer story in Europe with WestJet, from rolling countryside to cobblestone streets. Begin your next chapter. Book your seat at westjet.com or call your travel agent. WestJet, where your story takes off. Can you hear that? I stared up at the ceiling as the light of the foggy night scratched its way into the side window. A few moments of silence passed before I got my answer.

Here what? She rolled over slightly. An annoyed huff escaped her lungs before she continued her thoughts. I hear a cricket outside the window. Maybe there's a frog out there, but I don't hear anything else. You... You can't hear... I paused and thought about what it was that was playing in my head.

I don't know. It... It kind of sounds like talking. I focused on the sound a bit harder. Yeah, like people are talking. I can't make out the words, but it definitely sounds like a conversation. You're probably just hearing the TV next door or something. She grogily pulled the blanket over her shoulder and turned away to ignore me.

This is the third night in a row you've gone on about this. Please, just go to sleep, Wayne. Her dismissal didn't mean much to me at this point. after seven years of marriage distance is expected. Still, the fact that she couldn't hear what I was hearing was nothing less than disappointing. If she wanted me to shut up about it, I would shut up about it. Despite this, I wasn't planning on going to sleep. I was going to figure out what the hell was going on and where this sound was coming from.

For a few moments, I just lay there and stared at the cobwebs in the corner of the the room. I counted the water spots in the ceiling from the time we had a hole in the roof. I traced imaginary lines in those popcorn bumps in the plaster that coated the surface above me. None of this was helpful. My brain was racing, and there was no way I was going to be able to ignore the conversation as it played out. The best way for me to describe what I was hearing, besides just saying that it was someone talking, put in a pair of earphones. Set the volume on your phone to the absolute lowest setting that you can, and then play some sort of sports commentary or something,

but make sure that it's in a different language. Basically, it felt like that, like I was listening to a conversation in a different language at the absolute lowest volume possible. Despite what my wife's... said, this was not the third night with the voices. This was the second. The first night, it was simply a beeping or something like a tone.

Then the second night, it turned into the voices. And while she may have wanted nothing to do with the situation, I had to agree that it was a pain in the ass. I turned and sat up on the edge of the bed, glancing over at the clock. 1.46. It was a quarter to two in the morning, and I was stuck sitting there, listening to something that only I could seem to hear, unable to sleep. I pushed myself up, and I walked away from the room,

toward the hallway and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I stepped up to the sink, I ran the water, and then splashed myself in the face a couple of times, staring at the drops as they fell into the basin. At that moment, it almost seemed like the voices had stopped, like there was nothing more than silence pulsating in my ears. For that moment, it almost seemed like things were going to be okay. That moment was short-lived. Though the voices were no longer what I heard,

at that point, the sound of comforts, was replaced once more with the sound of that beeping, that weird, rhythmic tone that would occur every second. Beep. Beep. Beep.

This was actually more annoying than the talking, and what's worse is that it was actually louder this time, almost like it was coming from within the same room, or the room adjacent. I walked around the small bathroom with my ear to the wall, and for three of the four walls there was nothing, no indication that the tone was in any of those directions. However, when I stepped into the shower and firmly placed my ear against the plastic-lined wall, I could swear that the tone was louder. Part of me was certain that whatever was making these sounds had to be on the ear. other side of that wall.

I thought about the layout of my own house for a moment and became even more confused. As far as I could tell, that wall was directly against the walk-in closet in my bedroom. If it weren't there, the sound should have been louder when I was in the bedroom. I shook off my confusion and walked back towards my bedroom, around the bed, and into the walk-in closet. It was cramped, full of clothing and various other stowaway items, but the sound of the sound. down did not seem any louder when I entered.

I started to pull boxes away from the wall. I threw clothing out onto the floor of the bedroom until the room was pretty much empty. Yet the tone continued. But it had not increased. I once more pressed my ear against the wall, the wall that was on the other side of the shower. And at that moment,

it seemed that the tone had gotten just a bit louder. This sound, this consistent beeping, this constant droning that was sure to drive me insane was somehow on both sides of this one wall simultaneously. I pulled back

and I stared at the painted drywall. That shade of eggshell white that every modern home seems to be painted. And I thought about this situation. Now, there was no way that the sound was coming from either side of that wall. I had access to both of the rooms, which meant that it was likely coming from inside the wall. Whatever the hell it was that was keeping me awake, whatever it was that was producing these sounds had to be inside the wall.

The matter of how was a question that I assumed I could just answer later, but I had to find. find whatever this thing was. I turned back into the pile of items on the floor, and I grabbed a screwdriver, readying myself to tear into the wall, only to pause for a moment as I heard my wife snoring. Well, it would have been impolite for me to start in on the wall right next to her. So I took myself back to the bathroom, back to the bathtub, and back to the plastic lining on the wall. It was difficult, I will admit.

At first, I could not seem to pierce the plastic with my simple flathead screwdriver. Then, it occurred to me that this was likely just a protective covering over the drywall, and all I had to do was find the edge. I scraped along the corner until I was able to pry a small space between the two layers, and I pulled it away. The vinyl cover ripped away from bare drywall, pulling chunks of the paper covering with it. After a few moments and a few cuts on my hand, I was able to completely remove it. I then started into the sheetrock, prying away chunks of gypsum and successfully destroying the wall of my bathroom.

From an outside perspective, I probably looked a little crazy, but I knew that I was making progress. This tone sounded just slightly louder. I stabbed the wall over and over, breaking it more and more, until there was a sizable hole, leaving only exposed insulation in the piece of drywall for the closet. The wall between the two rooms was rather thin, but I was certain the sound was coming from there. I paused, listened to. closely, waiting for the next hint of where it was coming from. I could hear it, the tone, and it was certainly coming from inside that wall.

I glanced around at what was exposed until my eyes landed on an electrical wire, an electrical wire that seemed to go further into the wall. Why on earth would there be wiring in the wall behind the shower? No, it had to be a power line to whatever device was in there. I took my screwdriver and I kept prying away at the small pieces of drywall, tracing the wire all the way around the corner and to the doorframe, where it went up and over and then into the hallway. I tirelessly tore holes into the walls,

tracking this cable that I knew had to go where I needed it to. A few times I thought I lost track of the line, but I just made a bigger hole in the wall to make sure I knew exactly where it was going. It ran through insulation. I ripped it out. It ran through the studs. I used the screwdriver to crack them enough to pull the line.

It ran behind the tile of the kitchen, and you can be damn sure that a little ceramic was not going to stop me. I admit that I was left with, well, a bit of a mess, when I was done. And what's worse is that my adventure led me nowhere. The wire I was tracing led to the garage, which then ended at the circuit box. And out into the garage, the sound seemed the quietest.

In my moment of disappointment, I had a brilliant idea. If this device, this annoyance, was running on our electricity, then I could just flip the breaker and it would go away. I reached up to the main breaker and shoved it to the off position. As soon as I heard the click, the sound stopped. There was no more tone, no beeping, no voices. There was nothing. I could feel myself grinning at the electrical box as the pride of solving the problem washed over me.

I felt it was time for me to go to bed and get some sleep. I had damn well earned it. I walked back into the house from the garage and glanced around the room, only to be met with my wife staring at me from the hallway. She stared with her mouth wide open, her eyes shifting to the various holes in the wall, the damaged tile, the detritus that was scattered around our home. I held my smile. Yeah, there was a bit of a mess, but I could just deal with it in the morning. What the hell did you do, Wayne? she screeched at me.

I stepped into the living room and reached out to her, embracing her in a tight hug. A hug she did not reciprocate. I... I solved the problem. The sound is... I paused as I held her in the hug. From the silence of the room rose a familiar sound,

and that horrifying sound of conversation in a different language. muffled and unintelligible. Wait, can you hear that? You destroyed our house. I disregarded her claims and shushed her, pulling away to listen to the room. As I did, it seemed to grow more faint. For a moment, I struggled to hear it,

but it's quickly clicked. I leaned back in towards my wife's face, and that sound of speaking grew slightly. I pulled away again and the volume decreased. I knew what this meant. I knew what I had to do. I think I get why you can't hear it, honey. I smiled at her slightly as my fingers tightly gripped the flathead screwdriver. But we're going to fix it.

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so that my friends was a story that I wrote a long time ago that I never recorded called Can You Hear that? This story

according to what I wrote in my website is that it was inspired by the smoke detector making a beeping sound because the battery was low. Yeah. I don't recall getting the idea for this one, but that makes sense. I was probably sitting in the living room and the smoke detector upstairs beeped because that one up there died all the time for some reason. I honestly think the detector's actually defective because the batteries last like a month and then it dies, so probably should get a new one, but we rent and I think they only only

those. I don't know if we're supposed to replace them. I'm assuming we should. Not relevant. Anyways, um, it's beeping probably was driving me a little bit insane. Um, and I just thought it was a cool idea for a story. So hopefully you all enjoyed this story. I did. I love this story. It's one of those fun ones that I wrote. I guess I have a bias in that. Sorry. Um, it's a fun story that I wrote, and it definitely plays on that, that craziness. You know, I've been reading a lot more Po lately, because it's October, and I was like, you know what, my evening reads are going to be Poe stories, for the most part. So last night, I read Cask of a Montalado, Telltale Heart, and the Black Cat. I actually hadn't read the Black Cat before, but I've read the other two.

So, my point is, I'm a huge fan of Poe's work, as is evident by my channel's name, has the Raven Dreams. And, well, this is Raven pasta, but you get my point. a lot of his stuff wasn't about the horrors of nature or like lovecraftian style it was about the scary things that go on in people's minds and i realize i write a lot of stuff like that so thank you poe for being an inspiration to my to my work i suppose think it's where i was going with that anyways hopefully you all enjoyed the story if you did please do with that thumbs up button if you're new to the channel and liked what you heard to consider subscribing this is is my humble little channel where I do scary fiction stories. The other channel, As the Raven Dreams, is where I do my true stories. Definitely a larger audience, but I love this channel too.

You can also leave me a comment. I'll even know your thoughts. Would you like me to write more stories like this? If so, just let me know. I will try. Can't guarantee I'm going to do it in October, but I will try. I want to try, so. You can also join Patreon or memberships on the As the Raven Dreams channel, that is, where you get early access to content like this. and other stuff. I do post these on the As the Raven Dreams channel under members only, early, so you all get access to them early as well.

And yeah, beyond that, my friends, I hope remember you are loved. You are valid, you are important, you're the best you can be, do not forget it, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. And until I see you again, my friends. Much love and sleep well.

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