CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - 5 CHILLING Reddit Horror Stories

Episode Date: November 23, 2020

LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...CREEPYPASTA STORIES-►"My Brother Was Punished Too Severely" Creepypasta►"I Investigated an Old Prison in the Crypts of an Ancient Castle" Creepypasta►"Security logs from a haunted asylum" Creepypasta►"Never Bring Kids to White Rock Creek" Creepypasta►"The Clown of Dobra Springs" CreepypastaCreepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

This weekend I'm from waked I'm all moose I'm new as I'm on think Oh, that dossier that morning off must be all

I'm too much as I'm too on think Oh, van't after the tournoe I'm a moose if I'm on

too much as I'm on the going to come Give you self then a boost with bio-cure Maxshot Liquid

Three up-hending Planta Magnesium Iiser Aisor An energy booster to make

to come Knotchchchit Bocchot Liquid Vooding Supplement Forc by the Apoteker I'm where in God's name are you.

My mother snapped on my little brother as he tried to creep in through the front door. It was half-first-12 on the school night and just mere moments before he'd walked in, she assumed he was fast to sleep upstairs. She stood with her hands on her hips, eyeing him. My brother, Daniel, had been on a bad streak as of late. So, admittedly, I took some pleasure

in seeing him finally get what he needed as I watched this unfold from atop the staircase. My mom was rapidly tapping her foot waiting for a response. But before my brother could defend himself, she blurted out, have you been drinking? I can smell it on you, Daniel.

Jesus, you're 15, you're flunking your classes, you come home late, you're getting suspended, and now this? I'm sick of it. A smile crept across my face, watching her dig into him,

and I had to stifle a laugh at a couple of her remarks. It must have been a solid ten minutes of her yelling, and by the end of it, he looked pretty dejected. Daniel's eyes were glued to the floor and his lips were glued together, likely afraid that anything he said would have dug the grave deeper.

When she employed him to say something, all he could do was squeak out, I'm sorry, ma'am. In his heart, I'm sure he thought showing that he was genuinely sorry would have gotten him off. His biggest fear was getting shipped off to military school or staying with her grandparents in Nebraska, where the only thing he could do all day was read and shook corn. that wasn't good enough for my mom. She sighed and squeezed the bridge of her nose. Daniel, we've had this conversation too many times over the past year, and every time I threaten you with something, you shape up for a week and then go back to your old ways. Maybe it's time we tried something else. She paused to look back up the staircase, and I quickly had to duck behind the corner so she wouldn't see me before popping my head out again.

Do you remember the story your father and I told you about your brother as a kid? the one about the man who stayed in the room next to yours. He seemed caught off by this question and answered cautiously. Um, yeah, I suppose. I think he said he doesn't like naughty kids, and that we need to be good, or... Or you'd have to explain to him what you did wrong, and he'd fix it, she finished. When you both were young, just the mere mention of his name cut you to shape up.

But as you got older, we dropped it. We hoped that less... Extreme methods would help. help. She stopped again to glance up the staircase. But maybe we're coming full circle. Daniel, I think you need to go see him. Now, completely confused, he laughed.

Wait, are you serious, Mom? I'm not a kid. I know there's no guy up there. I almost wanted to come down and ask what she was talking about myself. Our house had always had an extra room across the hall from ours. As kids, our parents would always make comments. about how if we misbehaved too much we'd have to see the man inside, and that he'd make sure we'd never act up again. That statement alone always got us to act right.

You know how it is. As kids, you make stuff up. For the longest time, my brother and I assumed a monster was in there that ate up bad kids and spit out good copies, but as we grew older, we became less and less concerned with the empty room. It had remained locked all my life, and we mostly left it alone, barring a few unsuccessful times to try and get in. So it was extremely odd to see her bring it up. My mum held herself and dipped her head a bit

as she nodded in response to Daniel's question. I am serious, she said in a quiet, somber tone. You need to see him before this gets any worse. My brother looked back up the stairs and we made eye contact before shrugging and agreeing to my mom's strange request. When they turned to come up the stairs, I scrambled in my room and creaked the door open, just enough to watch the two make it in front of the mysterious door across the hall.

Before opening the door, my mom pulled Daniel into a tight hug and told him how much she loved him. Obviously, uncomfortable and visibly nervous, he softly patted her on the back and gave her a very unsure. I... Love you too? When she finally released, she turned to the door and fished in her pocket for a moment, before taking out a strange-looking key. It looked incredibly old, very much like your typical cartoonish treasure-chest key

you'd see in a kid's movie. When she unlocked the door and pushed it open, I jumped back from the door at the mere sight of what lay before me. An extremely large, gangly, decrepit man sat in a chair facing the door. His beak-like nose curved down to his chin, and he tapped his inhumanly long fingers on the arm of his chair. His eyes appeared as if there were empty sockets at first glance,

but I could see his actual eyeballs were set deep into his skull as I examined him further. Overall, he was probably about eight feet tall, but his head had to be twice the size of a normal human beings. My mom held tightly to Daniel's wrist and what I can only assume was an attempt to stop him from running, but I knew he wouldn't be going, frozen to his spot in fear and shock.

I think she had whispered something to him, because, in response, he slowly stood up, towering above both of them. He slowly pointed for her to leave with those grotesque fingers. She slowly nodded as she turned away. I could see the tears in her eyes. She ran down the staircase and wailed because she knew something horrible was about to happen to her son. I sprinted out of my room towards the door. I tried everything I could to get it open, but the damn thing wouldn't budge.

All the while, I could hear the her. horrific conversation taking place in the room. A deep voice spoke slowly from the other side. Your mother tells me, you were naughty again, boy. You should know how much I dislike naughty children. I could hear Daniel pleading. Please, I promise, I made a mistake, and I'm sorry.

A loud crash came from the room. Quiet boy, the man yelled. I don't like naughty boys. and now it's time for your punishment. Daniel screamed, a blood-curdling cry, and a struggle followed soon after. I banged on the door, yelling for help. I saw my dad rush up the stairs,

but instead of him helping me, I felt myself being lifted from the ground and dragged away from the door. Soon my mom was helping him restrain me so that they could take me downstairs. He needs to learn, I heard my dad say as I struggled against him, this is for his own good.

From the other side, my mom commented, This was his only hope, he'll be fixed now, but you can't interfere. What's done is done. They let go for a brief moment, and I tried to run upstairs, screaming for help. But within seconds, they pulled me away again. Eventually, my parents managed to throw me into the car and set the child locks. We drove for hours as I begged for my parents to explain what was going on, but all they ever said was that it needed to happen and that I'd understand once it was over.

By the time we made it back home, the sun was starting to come back up, and I found myself waking up from a nap with my dad knocked out next to me. For a moment, I thought it was all a dream. I wanted so badly to believe that what I saw was a messed of creation of my own imagination. As soon as I made it inside, I sprinted towards Daniel's room and found him tucked away safe in bed. Relief washed over me when I hugged him, as this all but confirmed that my brother, hadn't been taken by something. My parents called our school and told them we were sick for the day.

All I wanted to do was spend time with my brother. But, as soon as he woke up, I noticed he was different. Preserved, timid, quiet, and polite at only some of the adjectives I had used to describe how he was,

or... Is. Ultimately, he was the complete opposite of what I've come to know and love. If there was a rule, no matter how small, he'd do his best and make sure it was followed to a tea. He was respectful, got perfect grades,

and only spoke when spoken to. The ideal child, right? No. Daniel no longer had a personality. The spark he had was gone. His passions for life and doing things beyond what was expected of him wasn't there anymore. He used to be an artist,

a damn good one. I used to love seeing his chaotic paintings, and he'd even make his own beats that he'd paint to. As you'd expect, as an artist, his room is always a mess, because he was still in the middle of some crazy project. After that day, his room was spotless, and I never saw another painting. Even though I never lost my brother, it's hard to feel like he didn't die that day. I used to see my parents crying late at night. I overheard them asking what they've done, and if it was worth it. After I moved out

It was hard to keep in contact with them I don't think I've ever quite Forgiven them for what happened And I don't know that I ever will From what I've heard Daniel has a full-ride college scholarship I think he wants to be an accountant or something But I never felt that my parents were too happy

about it I don't know what to do I've been thinking about that night a lot recently And part of me thinks it's time To confront my parents about what the hell is in that room. The ancient castle towered above the forest surrounding it. The moon provided enough light to see my surroundings,

but it painted an eerie picture nonetheless. I approached the engines to the castle, stopping on the path in front of it. I was supposed to meet my contact there, but there was no one in sight. I decided to wait for a little bit, hoping they would still show up. I was in looking forward to entering the place on my own.

After having waited over 15 minutes, I started to look around. The path leading up to the castle was fairly wide, but the rain had caused it to be quite muddy, which made it uncomfortable to walk on. Eventually, my eyes wandered across a disturbed patch of grass. Twigs were broken and flowers ruined. Upon closer inspection, I seemed to find the faintest hint of a red substance. Blood, perhaps. A small trail seemed to lead down the hill. My eyes wandered down

Where I saw a dark figure deep below It was hard to see in the darkness But it almost looked like a Mr Vario My thoughts were interrupted And I turned around a face whoever addressed me I was greeted by an old man dressed up in some kind of medieval armour

He was slightly leaning forward And supporting himself with a walking cane I raised my hand and offered to shake his He gave me a small bow in response, but kept his distance. It's good to meet you, the man continued. I was starting to worry, nobody was going to come and help me. I'm only here to assess the situation. I haven't made any promises yet.

Yes, yes, of course, the man responded, as he took a few, slow and uneasy steps towards me. But at least you're willing to take a look. That's a start. Now, please. Follow me. Let us head inside. This is no time to be standing outside. We walked towards a large gate together in complete silence. When we reached the door, the man motioned for me to open it, so I did. Once through, I found myself standing in a large, decorated hall, with a small welcoming

table and register to my side. The room was dimly lit, enough to see my surroundings, but it did create an uncomfortable atmosphere. Is this the place? I asked as I looked around, not noticing anything remarkable. No, no, the man said as he continued walking in front of me. This is where our visitors enter, and from where we start our tours of the castle. The problem resides in the much more unused parts of the castle. Of course, I replied.

And this problem wouldn't just so happen to be in the basement or dungeon, what it? I asked sarcastically as I followed the old man. He shibishly smiled at me in response. I followed him through the hall. He wasn't exactly quick, so I had plenty of time to observe my surroundings. The castle was old and it definitely showed it, but was kept in a relatively clean condition nonetheless. The amount of money they received from our tours

must have been substantial to support the maintenance of the castle. I assume you familiarised yourself with the the information I sent you. The man then asked. The way he asked it was slightly off-putting, but I didn't think much of it. I'm familiar with the case, yes. It's hard to miss the 14 people

that have gone missing from your tours in the last couple of weeks. Ah, yes, the man responded, somewhat awkwardly. I hate to ask, but... Have you... We've kept it hidden from the public. All deaths were written off to some other cause. No one will blame this place. Good, thank you.

The man responded. He was clearly relieved. He didn't say anything else and just kept walking through the various halls and rooms. Eventually, I started to lose my patience and asked him where we were going. All the way down, the man responded as he tapped his walking cane on the floor. It made no noise. To the problem. To the bodies.

I wanted to ask more, but the man was. suddenly slipped off into a small room. I followed him, I was greeted by a small shelf and a large wooden door. He looked to be in a much worse condition than the rest of the castle. The man turned around and motioned towards the shelf. Behind the books there's a... small vault. The code is 3974. You'll find the key for the door inside.

Please open the door so we may proceed. I stood still for a moment, staring at the door. the old man with a confused expression. As I wondered, why the hell this guy couldn't just grab the key himself? I did as he asked. He moved some bucks to the side, which indeed revealed a small vault which had a key. I slowly opened the heavy wooden door, which revealed a staircase spiraling down. The old man stared at me, causing my skin to crawl.

Something about his gaze may be extremely uncomfortable. The bath ahead is extremely dark, Mr. Variety. please. Perhaps you should take off your mask so you may see better, the man suggested. I declined and told him I'd keep it on for safety. He continued to stare at me for a little while. Let us continue, the man eventually said,

as he started to descend into the darkness. I followed him. We've had to lock the doors. The man then started as we descended the stairs to keep the visitors from wandering off, you know, No. Those that lie below, they call to some of them, trick them into going down these very stairs towards their certain doom. So, why not just keep the doors locked then? I asked. For every door we lock, they find another one we'd never seen before, in some remote part of the castle.

No, this cannot be contained by locked wooden doors, Mr. Vario. Tell me about this place, I then said. It couldn't hurt to hear what the old man had to say. Long ago, when this castle was still newly built, there was a fight amongst the family about who had ownership of the land. They fought for the rights and eventually ended up all killing each other, causing the estate to end up abandoned. Decades later, the country was terrorised by a terrible, terrible people.

He was awful, Mr. Vario. Truly awful. He stopped his story as we reached the bottom of the stairs. We were standing in a medium-sized room with a bunch of kids. carvings and the walls. We were definitely underground, and there were no windows, but various lit candles and torches throughout the room provided enough light to see. Against one of the walls, I spotted what appeared to be an old sarcophagus.

It had been opened. These people, the man continued, terrorized the land for years and years, but eventually the town's folk and knights managed to slay these cursed men, ending their reign of terror. but it wasn't entirely over, as they still had to take care of the bodies. Everyone agreed they had to be locked away, of course, but nobody wanted the house or deal with the cursed bodies. They buried them all here, he then said, grimly, all of them.

They turned this place into a prison for the dead. They placed the bodies into these stone prisons, believing it would keep them from coming back, from terrorizing them once more. and it worked. The man slowly walked over to the sarcophagus, and I did the same. We both cautiously peered inside, but were greeted by an empty space. There was nothing inside.

But, of course, as is the case for all evil, he doesn't truly stay dead forever. The moment the words left the man's mouth, I heard a faint voice deeper inside the castle calling for me. Shivers ran down my spine as the awful voice, echoed throughout the halls and rooms. They've returned, and their suffering, trapped inside these stone contraptions, cursed inside of their partly decayed bodies, never alive, but never dead either.

But there is a way, a way for them to come back. I took a step back from the empty sarcophagus, try not to think about what could have been in there centuries ago. I scanned the various halls connected to our room, but couldn't see anything noteworthy. It was silent as well. The man started walking again, so I swiftly followed him, not wanting to be left alone in his maze of hallways and rooms. Occasionally, I could swear I heard voices in the distance,

but the man didn't seem to notice, so we kept walking. We stopped inside another room, another open sarcophagus stood against the wall. There was something else in front of it, but I couldn't quite make out what it was in the dim light. I slowly approached, leaving the old man behind me, but I almost retreated immediately when I realized what it was. The body of a man lay hunched over against the sarcophagus. His expression was frozen in a perpetual state of pain.

The closey war were modern, so this was likely to be one of the missing people. I kneeled down next to the man to try and find any wounds or reasons for his death. A touch, the man said. I turned around to look back towards him, but my heart skipped a beat when I found him standing right next to me. I didn't hear him approach at all. That's all they need. They lure them here, tricked them into touching their cursed vessels, and are then born anew. The poor trick souls are left behind to rot.

He turned away and started walking, as if this has just been a small side activity, but nothing that deserved a lot of attention. So they trick them into coming down here? How? I asked. Some love them with visions, some with voices, and others even with something completely different. It all depends. Some are able to much more than others. Unfortunately, it's those that you especially don't want to let out. I nodded as I stepped away from the body.

I was starting to suspect that I'd find every missing person somewhere inside these catacombs if I looked hard enough. When I turned around, I realized the man had gone on without me. Despite his slow walking speed, he'd completely disappeared from my view. I cautiously stepped into a corridor, peeking around the corners to see whether I could spot the man, but it was nowhere to be found. Hello? I called out as I walked through the corridor. It wasn't until now that I realized how cold it was down there.

I started shivering as I continued my search for my guide. Come to me, a soft female voice called out from right behind me. I turned around instantly, but saw nothing. Over here, a different masculine voice than chimed in. Help us, another voice echoed. I started to panic slightly, repeatedly looking over my shoulder to make sure nothing was creeping up on me. More and more voices started to echo throughout the halls and chambers. I stumbled through the halls, trying to get away from them,

the voices became louder and louder. I turned a corner and finally saw the old man in the distance. He waved at me and disappeared into another passage. I started to chase him, but I moved slowly, using the walls that support myself as the voices became unbearably loud and demanding. I entered the passage and saw the old man standing next to a sarcophagus in a room up ahead. He was beckoning me to come over. I stumbled through the passage, almost four, over twice. The voices only increased, making me feel like my ears were about to burst. I was almost there. The man was so close. I almost made it. I just had to get into the room, get to the sarcophagus. Mr. Vario? The other voices stopped the moment that familiar

voice called out from behind. The sudden silence felt almost threatening. I instinctively turned around to see where the noise came from. Even though I knew the old man stood in front of me. Yet, when I turned around, I saw him staring at me from down the corridor, from where I came. There's nothing that way, Mr. Vario. It's a dead end, he said calmly. Confused, I turned around again to face the room. But, besides the sarcophagus, it was completely empty.

I was frozen in place for a second as I tried to process what had happened. We shouldn't linger here for too long, the old man said. Let us continue. We were almost there. I turned back around to face the man, but he was already walking away once more. Not wanting to be left alone again, I quickly made my way over to him. I think I've seen enough for now. I'd like to leave now, so I can discuss the situation with my colleagues.

I said, shaking by what had just happened. The old man shook his head slowly as he kept walking. Nonsense. You haven't seen the most important parts yet. You cannot leave until you have. Whatever more you want to show me can wait. I'd like to leave for now. The old man stopped for a moment,

locking over his shoulder with a faint grin. The dim lighting made him appear more threatening than he did before. I will bring you back when we're done. If you want to leave now, you'll have to find you way back. back on your own. I clenched my fist in response before briefly looking down. All the halls and rooms looked the same and I had no idea where I had come from. We wandered around here for so long, there was no way I'd find my way back alone.

Both of us knew this. Fine, let's get this over with, I muttered. We walked through more halls for what fell like ours. The rest of the journey was mostly uneventful. Eventually, we stood before a large, wooded walled. door. There were several crosses hammered on it. The man motioned for me to open the door, and so I did. I entered a massive room filled with stone statues and ornaments, all debating a certain knight I did not recognize. At the end of the long room stood a throne, behind which

I spotted another sarcophagus, yet this one was beautifully decorated. Whoever died here must have been greatly honoured during his life. We are here. old man spoke. What you seek lies inside there. He pointed to the sarcophagus. He walked over to it, passing the giant statues. Who's depicted here? I asked. The man shook his head in response. I do not know. It does not matter, he retorted, sounding quite defensive. I observed the sarcophagus and placed my hand on the cold stone, ready to open it. Wait! The old man spoke from behind me. You must take off your helmet, your gloves.

This needs to be experienced without anything blocking your senses. No, I responded firmly as I started to push against the stone. I insist, the old man spat to me. You must take it off, do as I say. He yelled as I opened and looked inside the sarcophagus. The body of an old man lay inside, dressed in a wealthy knight's armor. His body was a natural. well-preserved, and I almost immediately recognized it to be the body of my guide.

I swiftly turned around, but the old man was nowhere to be seen, as if he had vanished into thin air. An awful scream came from behind me, and something grabbed my head from behind, pulling at my mask. I tried to escape the grasp as I was pulled into the sarcophagus. Old fingers scratched my mask's visor, making it hard for me to see. The fingers pulled at my armour, trying to find a way to my handcuffer. skin. I wildly flared around and managed to break free from the rotting arms. I fell forward onto the ground and quickly turned to face my aggressor. The half-rottom rotten body of the man hung over the sarcophagus's edge, moaning as it stretched his finger out in an attempt to touch me.

I swiftly got back on my feet and ran as fast as I could back into the underground maze. I've not been able to find my way back. I've wondered these halls for what feels like days, but still have not found an exit or even a place I recognised from before. I'm trapped in this hell, whatever it may be. Even worse, the old man is back. I've heard him call out my name as he roams the halls looking for me. He's not alone, for I keep seeing things in the corner of my eyes, things that disappear when I look for them,

but are always there when I do not wish to see them. My only option is to keep venturing to. deeper and deeper into the depths of this hell. The amounts of bodies I find littered through the halls only increases, and I fear this is the last time I will have any ability to share my story before I continue onwards. When I am rested, I will explore further, but whatever happens, I won't let the old man get his hands on me. I will either escape or perish by my own hands.

Whatever path lies ahead of me, let it be known to all, secretly be damned that the castle of Fersik is beyond saving. My advice is for it to be closed and sealed, hidden for all eternity, so that whatever lies beneath will not be given a new vessel. I can hear the old man nearby. He offered to let me live. He toys, yelling through the halls that I will never find my way back on my own, but that he could help me. And in return, all he needs is a touch. I don't know how I ended up working here. I had ambitions, you know. I was going to be a writer.

Instead, I'm working the graveyard shift in an asylum. But a lot of people have dreams in their life that are left unfulfilled, I suppose. I should be happy they were hiring. Ever since the incident in the sub-basement, they've been having trouble keeping staff here, apparently. I guess minimum wage isn't enough for some people. For me, either, really. My first paycheck was a bit of a shock. 600 bucks for two weeks of that?

That was what went through my mind. I can barely afford rent, and it seems like every day I'm putting my life in harm's way for the sake of this hellish place. I guess I should explain. See, people don't believe me when I tell them how strange things have been getting at the old mental hospital. The place is over 150 years old, so I figured when I started that there had to be at least a couple ghosts wandering around. But there's more than just a couple. And what's the deal with a mysterious purple ooze leaking out from the edges of the door to room 319?

And why is there a black cat constantly roaming the hallway just ahead of me in my night patrols? And when I look back, I see I'm being pursued by the same black cat who is now back there and not in front of me? And why is the new doctor always coming in at 3am? And when I ask management about him, they tell me there is no new doctor.

He's bald, seven feet tall and always carrying a crimson red suitcase, I'll say. but that doesn't help anything. People around here are just used to unexplainable things happening, I guess. Oh, and did I mention the long-necked shadow man in the basement? And the semi-transparent human forms that walk down the halls down there with him? By the way, this isn't just one or two phantom apparitions we're talking about. It's like a nightclub down there.

And by that, I mean they're always dancing and blasting that awful big band music. It's the worst. I figured I would post a copy of my rambling production. trollog so people could judge for themselves. Nobody else reads the damn things anyway. Who knows? Maybe I'm the one going crazy and I should be locked up here myself. You tell me. 2,300. Report received from Steve, evening shift guard. Of note, the twins were back again. Two identical siblings with sharp teeth and beady red eyes. Not to mention, no parental

supervision. They made off with a code blue cart, as well as several Ivy Stark kits and three more improbious chemotherapy isolation counts. Still no clear pattern or motives for this string of theft. 2315. Foot Patrol. Bound the decapitated heads of 37 rats in the basement arranged carefully on the floor. Apparently to be spelling a message written in the dead vermin, but writer noticed this too late and had already cleaned up most of them. Unsure what the message was saying. It's probably nothing, though. 2330. Writer called to investigate loud music being played in the auditorium.

The space was found to be inhabited by several hundred semi-transparent forms who appeared to be engaged in the massive ghost party. Attempts to make contact to persuade said phantoms to lower the volume of their terrible music were greeted with hostility and threats of bodily possession. So writer chose to withdraw from the situation, citing personal safety. The patients will just have to deal with the noise. 2345

Century Manor front door found to be a jar once again. This is the third time this week, despite the fact that there are padlocks and dead bolts keeping it shut. Writer would like to believe it's just crackheads again, were it not for the little girl in the window, smiling creepily with pale, blue glowing eyes. Perhaps she got a key for the place somehow. Maintenance is going to have to change the locks again. O-15. Relief for E3 guard break. Ramone, another guard, is reporting that his security booth is causing him to feel increasingly claustrophobic.

Ryder notices that the room appears noticeably smaller than previously. A steady grinding noise is also present and difficult to ignore, causing fillings in writer's teeth to fall out. 0.45. Ramon reluctant returns from his break, saying the room had shrunk by several feet just this week, causing him to move everything to the now crowded center of the room. work order filled out by writer and left in Dropbox outside basement level maintenance office as per protocol. 145. Report received of a man standing in the middle of the baseball field near Century Manor.

Writer responded to scene and found a faceless shadow form with an abnormally long neck, bulb his fingers and scrawny skeleton arms, but no other discernible features. Security held visitor and asked them to identify themselves or to leave the property. shadowy form stuck up middle finger of right hand and proceeded to walk through the chain link fence and into the trees beyond exiting the property. Fence was found to be intact with no visible gaps on inspection. 0200

Code Yellow Missing Patient Reported SK Patient from E3 High Security Forensic Unit escaped by breaking exterior window of isolation room with his bare feet and then jumping from the high window into a nearby tree. Individual fled and ran down in it. to the parking lot. Staff reported code yellow since patient is high risk for violent crimes.

Usually they don't even bother. None of us are going to look for him either, because nobody is paying me enough of this mess. 2.30. Ramone insists on another break for the purposes of urination and overall sanity. Writer takes over access control duty for E3 in the somehow even smaller than before security booth. The grinding sound is now louder and the writer notices that objects near the periphery of the room are half absorbed into the walls with no regards for physics or the law of nature. Half of the security camera monitors are now gone

and this may present a problem when it comes to identifying staff members for the purpose of access control. Encore maintenance supervisor notified by telephone and he stated who'd been soon to see what he could do about the situation. 345 The access control booth is now the size

of a small bathroom and Ramon is concerned about re-entering for his own safety. Sighted administrator is called and orders given for Ramon to remain in his security booth until further instructions. Writer reluctantly leaves Ramon, shaking with fear inside his booth and heads back downstairs to resume patrol duties. 3.55. Squeaking sounds heard distantly in basement hallways during patrol.

Hopefully that damn clown with a meet-hook isn't back again. 4.30. The twins are reported being seen. again. They just made off with a dozen containers of bleach from the janitor's supply closet which they loaded onto a stolen cleaning cart. Still no patterns or motives for this ongoing robbery spree. The youngsters always seemed to disappear in the basement as if by magic. 0500. Found E3 escaped patient in the basement under the stairs, sucking his thumb, white as a ghost. He was saying something about the doctor, how the doctor with a red briefcase

had taken his spirit. His hands were cold at the touch and he had lost all defiance. Writer led him up to the ward like a little lost child holding his hand the whole way. Upon arrival to the unit, the doors opened automatically

and there was no longer an access control booth at the entry point. Staff in the unit state, they have no recollection of their ever having been an access control booth for the unit and say there was never any security guard named Ramon

who worked here. Strange, did I imagine Ramon? 0600. Strange rustling noise noted above the security office on the main floor again, likely squirrels, adding pest control to the list of contractors needed once the budget allows for it. At least it's not raccoons. I've heard some places have a real problem with those.

6.30. Maintenance encore supervisor arrives on site and says he doesn't remember why he was supposed to be here at all. When asked about the existence of an access control, booth for E3, he states he has no such memory of that room, and the thought of it gives him a headache. Writer is getting scared now. Ryder thinks Ramon might be dead, or there is the possibility right to imagine Ramon and is having a mental breakdown. But the memories are so vivid.

That could have been me up there, the way those walls were moving in. It was hypnotic, like you didn't notice how close they were, until they had already moved in another foot, by trying to watch the movement of an hour hand on a clock, indiscernible, but irrevocable, and with constant forward progress. 645. Shift change is rapidly approaching. Thank goodness. It's been a long night.

Hopefully nothing else happens before the day shift gets here. 6.52. Code White. Violent patient, called on F3. Writer responds and locate source of commotion towards the back of unit. Patient T.L. is making paranoid accusatory statements about staff, saying that they are trying to lure him into the sub-basement to join a cannibal death cult that resides in the secret commune down there. Patient restrained with five-point magnetic restraints and medications administered by RN. See Incident Report for further details.

7.15. Shift change. Released, it's supposed to be. The day shift guard's name is David, and he still hasn't shown up yet. 8.30. Still new sign up David. Time for another patrol. At least no more relieving Ramon for his pee breaks. That grinding noise was interminable.

9.25. Writer must be tired. Continually seeing little girl with glowing blue eyes in the basement peeking from around corners and giggling. But then, an investigation, nobody is there. 9.40. That damn black cat is back. It just yacked up a hairball and took a pee on the floor

which writer slipped on and hurt hip. See safety occurrence report. Just writing that made me feel old. 10.30. Day shift guard finally arrives, saying he slept in. Report given and received by David. White Knight security. Writer is trembling with terror and pain.

Leaving for the day with a bruised hip, PTSD and less than a hundred bucks to show for it after taxes and deductions. And that's including the overtime. If anyone from head office is reading this, maybe you'll finally agree that I deserve a damn raise. Never bring kids to White Rock Creek. Look, I know that White Rock Creek has been a popular location for hiking and stuff like that, but that doesn't mean it's safe. I don't know if adults are safe at White Rock Creek, but I do know for a fact that kids are not.

It's because of Hippity Hop, or what the media is labeled, the Bunny Man. Let me just say that it wasn't a man in a costume that I met at White Rock Creek in 1989. He was a real bunny-like creature. I know that it sounds made up, but it's true. His white fur, his big smile, his even bigger eyes. They were all real, and he wasn't a friendly rabbit either. He might seem like it at first, but do not trust him. Ever.

He'll try to befriend children and eventually try to keep them at White Rock River. Rock Creek forever. I'm writing this as a warning, and maybe as a goodbye. This is what happened when I visited White Rock Creek. It all started on the bus, me, other kids and teachers from my school were traveling in. We were staying at White Rock Creek for a few days to study wildlife in the area. I was sitting with my best friend, Zach, and we were just talking about stuff kids in the 80s would talk about, like arcades and horror movies. I was looking at the winter. I was looking at the window while Zach was talking about how Freddy Kruger would beat Jason Voorhis's butt. That's when I saw the sign for White Rock Creek, the place all of us would be staying for the next

few days. But something in the bushes caught my eye. Two big rabbit ears stuck out behind a bush. They looked to be at least a feet tall, which were big for a regular rabbit ears. I guess you could say that I was curious to know what the ears were attached to, but they suddenly vanished into the bushes in a split second. I turned to Zach, who was still talking about the battle of Jason versus Freddy. Did you see that? I asked, pointing out the window. Zach stopped talking and tried to look out the window. See what? he asked. Those big rabbit ears, I said. They were like a foot tall. Zach scoffed. You think that a giant rabbit is in the woods? You need help. I looked back outside the window, but we had already passed where I saw the ears sticking out.

I know I saw something, I said. Something was sticking out of the bushes. Maybe it wasn't rabbit ears, but there was definitely something there. I turned back to look at Zach, who only said, Maybe. He started talking about his earlier topic, but I didn't really listen. I was still thinking about what I saw in the bushes. When we arrived to White Rock House, Miss Donald said for all the kids to exit the bus first. Once we did, she did a headcount to make sure we were all there. I turned around to see the white building that stood behind us.

It was a big wooden house, four stories high, and was painted white all over. The steps leading up to the porch looked like they could collapse at any second, and the white paint was starting to peel off the walls. It looked pretty spooky to me. But no one seemed bothered by the house when we went inside. The first floor had five rooms.

A living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Some of the kids and chaperones will be put into the two bedrooms on this floor, and everyone else would sleep in the rooms on the upper floors. Me and Zach, already partnered as bunkmates, were situated on the bunk bed closest to the window on the first floor. Another kid and a chaperone would be sharing the room with us. Miss Donald said that we could explore around the house, while the teachers and chaperons unpacked for the night.

Me and Zach went out behind the house, where a little tie swing sat under a tree. It was still functional, and me and Zach took turns swinging around. But after a while, Zach said that he needed to get a bottle of water from his bag inside. He left me on the tie swing while he ran in. I started swinging by myself,

up and down on the tie swing, a bit bored without Zach. But I wouldn't be bored for long, because the rabbit ears returned. I saw in the woods behind the house that all rabbit ears I saw before were sticking out from behind a tree. Curiosity got the better of me

and I walked over to where the ears were but when I got closer and closer a figure started coming out from behind the tree. It was a rabbit, a tall one. Even from a few feet away he seemed to tower over me. His body

Head to toe was covered in fluffy white fur. He had a white smile on his face with two buck teeth sticking out. His brown eyes seemed to stare right into my soul. He waved his paw at me when he came out of his hiding spot. Hi Joseph. How could he talk? And how did he know my name? He took a few steps towards me, waiting for me to respond.

In disbelief, I gave him a small wave. The rabbit stepped closer to me, but I had a small wave. But I didn't run away. I stood still as the rabbit continued speaking. My name is Hippity Hop. It's not too often that people come around here. It's pretty lonely, really. He frowned as I just continued watching him slowly walk closer to me.

I'd like to have a friend to play with. He started to smile again. He stopped a few inches in front of me, and I had to till my neck to meet Hippity Hop's eyes. Will you be my friend? Now, I was ten years old at the time. I knew that I wasn't allowed to talk to strangers, but Hippity Hop seemed to be sad

that he couldn't have any friends in White Rock Creek. I nodded, and the rabbit immediately hugged me in response. His soft fur felt nice against my face, and I hugged him back. When he let go, he was literally jumping for joy. Thank you, Joseph, he said. but he suddenly stopped jumping. But you can't talk about me to anyone. I must be a secret, okay?

I nodded, and Hippity hop smiled. Well, I'll see you later, Joseph. He walked off into the woods as I felt Zach touched my shoulder. Hey, what are you doing back there? I looked back behind me, but Hippity Hop was already gone. Nothing, I said, looking back at Zach. Let's go back to the tie swing. I'm next, Zach shouted, running towards the swing.

I looked behind me again, and this time I saw Hippity Hop peeking at me behind a tree. I waved at him as I made my way to where Zach was. The next day, I was lying on the grass, looking up at the sky while I waited for the teachers to finish making lunch. I closed my eyes, taking in the fresh air and thinking that so far this was a great trip. My day was about to get better When a furry port tapped my shoulder I sat up and looked behind me Seeing hibbitty hop

Also lying on the grass Smiling up at me Aren't you worried that someone will see you I asked He shook his head I chuckled You want to play something Hibbitty hop immediately sat up

And turned to me Of course Friends always play games together How about Well, hide and seek, I suggested. Only if I can seek first, Hippity Hop said. How about you hide in the woods? He pointed to the woods behind me, and I nodded.

Okay. I got up and started running into the woods, hearing Hippity Hop counting down. Hiding behind a tree, I heard Hippity Hop walking through the woods. I was thinking about how surreal this was, playing with a giant talking rabbit I'd just met yesterday. It didn't seem possible, but it was. When I heard Hippity up getting closer, I quietly walked away from my hiding spot. I heard the creek a few feet away and made my way through the trees to the White Rock Creek. It was true to its name. The rocks under the water were pale and made the water look like a light grey colour. I started walking the

direction the creek was heading. The water moved pretty fast, which made me start up running with it. It was fun for a while, until I came across something in the bushes. It was a person, I thought. The leg stuck out of the bushes with some sort of red substance on it. I slowed down. A strong metallic smell seemed to punch me in the face. Was that what I thought it was? Was it? Got you? Hibbby-hop grabbed to my shoulders, making me jump a bit. He laughed, but seeing my worried expression, he frowned. What's wrong? I pointed to the leg.

Who's that in the bushes? Hippity Hop seemed to frown more. You might need to go. He said, I'll take you back. Hippity hop led me away from the bushes to the white rock house. I tried to look back, but Hippity Hop turned my head back to looking forward. He was trying to hop. hide something.

Who could be in the bushes? The next two days, I kind of forgot about what I saw. Me and Hippity Hop usually played or talked in the woods when no one else would be able to see us. Zach had been noticing that I've been disappearing lately, but I just told him that I liked exploring places.

Now, it was the fifth day at White Rock Creek, which was the last day we would be here. I was sad because I wouldn't be able to play with Hippity Hop anymore after we left tomorrow morning. So, me and him played all day, from after breakfast till right before dinner. But after dinner, I wanted to say goodbye to Hippity Up before it was too late. So I walked to the spot where we usually met and saw him emerge from behind a tree. You're back? Want to play tag some more? he asked.

I tried to think of a way to say it, but I finally said, I can't. Then, why are you here? Hibbity Hop asked, confused. I'm here to say goodbye, I said. I'm going back home tomorrow. Hibbity Hop's eyes grew wide, leaving, but I thought we would stay friends forever. I know, but I can't stay in White Rock Creek forever.

I saw Hibbity Hop give a big frown, seemingly angry at me. You're supposed to be my friend. Joseph, he shouted, Friends don't leave each other. I didn't know what to say. I knew he'd be upset, but not this much. Look, I need to go, I said. I'm sorry I can't stay.

Wait, Hebidiop said. Can I just have one more hug? I smiled, glad to know he was over it. Sure. I ran over and hugged him, and he did the same. but after a few seconds I felt his grip tighten Hey

I said That hurts I tried to wriggle out of his grip But that made him hugged me tighter I was starting to hurt And I tried to tell him But he just said We're friends forever Joseph

You won't be leaving I felt my legs lift off the ground As hippie up turned and started walking deeper into the woods I tried to scream for help with his fur kept getting in my mouth. You're mine. Hibbitty hop started running deeper and deeper into the dark woods.

I desperately tried hitting him, but he seemed unfazed. The trees were blocking the setting sun, and suddenly the light disappeared. It took me a second to realize that Hibbidi Hop had run into a cave. He stopped moving and dropped him the floor. Whatever he dropped me in, it felt squishy and sticky. I tried getting up, but Heibody Hawk grabbed my leg and kept me there. He grabbed a burn candle and held it in front of me. Say hi to my previous friends.

A flame suddenly appeared on the candle, and the flame lit up what I had fell on. I screamed, seeing at least 20 kids. They had been brutally killed. Their eyes had been gouged out of the socket, skin was ripped a shred, and some kids had a few legs and arms missing. The faces were frozen in screams And I imagined that it must have been painful for them When they met their ends

And it didn't take a genius to realise who the corporate was Still holding my leg down Hippie Hop explained I've met great kids over the years They were always so kind So innocent So weak They loved playing with me Joseph

But they always had to leave someday And you know that I don't like that so I brought them here where we could be friends forever. I started tearing up. Please don't kill me, I cried. Hibbitty Hop laughed. I don't just kill them instantly, Joseph. He said, first we play a game of tag.

Isn't that funny? We were just playing that earlier, right? I slowly nodded. Hibbity Hop smiled. But it was more terrifying, and sweet. Joseph, if you can get back to White Rock House without me tagging you, I'll let you go. But, he smile widened, if I tag you, you'll join them. He gestured to the dead kids in the cave. Got it. I nodded once more. Good, Hippity Hop said.

You have 30 seconds. He started counting and I quickly tried. tried to get up and out of the cave, but I slipped on some blood from a kid's chest and managed to lose six seconds of running trying to get back up. The woods had gotten even darker than before, and I felt like I was going nowhere as I kept running towards the direction I thought White Rock House was in. I didn't stop to take a breather. I didn't look back. I just kept running and running, knowing that hibbid hop would be right behind me very soon. I heard him. I didn't know if he was behind me, but I knew he was running, and he was running a lot faster than I was. This somehow helped me run faster, as I kept thinking that I would see White Rock House and I would be safe,

but it wasn't the house I saw first. It was Zach. He was calling for me. I yelled for him and started waving my hands, but I closed my mouth as soon as I could. Zach heard me, but so did hippity hop. I knew because I heard him stopping his tracks and start running directly behind me. Zach! I screamed. I saw Zach turn around and look at me. Joe, what are you? I bumped right into him, knocking us both to the ground. Hey, get off, Zach said. But when he saw my tearful eyes, he asked, what happened to you? Hippity hop, I yelled. He's going to get me if I don't get to the house. White Rockhouse was a few yards away, and I pulled Zach up. Who the heck is Hippity Hop? he asked.

Me. A figure appeared behind Zach. He was hippity hop, but now more disturbing than I'd ever seen. His mouth was open and a devilish grin, full of sharp teeth that was stained with blood. His white fur was ripped and blood drained out of scars on his body. He seemed to be a foot taller and skinnier. I could see the bones. pressed against his skin.

Zach turned around, seeing what used to be the hibbidi-hop I remembered. Almost immediately, the creature grabbed Zach in a hug. I remember Zach trying to scream, but he was muffled by the fur and blood from the creature. He looked at me with a wide smile and said, Thank you for the new friend. I'll be sure to pay you a visit when you return, Joseph. The creature and Zach disappeared into the woods, with me, screamed for Zach to be let go.

But he didn't return. All I could do was return to White Rock House and tell what happened, no matter how crazy it sounded. There were a few teachers already calling my name as I emerged out of the woods. My clothes covered in the blood from the corpses of the kids from the cave. Mrs. David, one of the chaperones that was outside at the time, screamed when they saw me covered in blood.

The teachers and a few kids came over. What happened, Miss Quinn asked, and I told them. At first they seemed to tune me out during the middle of the story, but started listening again when I said that Hibbidi Hop took Zach. Everything after that is a blur. I remember the police were called and two groups of adults were sent into the woods to search for Zach. They found him, along with the other victims in Hibbity Hop's cave. And, after all these years, I still wish I could have saved him.

My parents arrived at White Rock Creek to take me home after that and when we passed the sign for White Rock House I saw Hippity Hop hiding behind a tree for the last time He was back to his regular rabbit form Except his mouth was covered with blood And his smile was full of sharp teeth He waved to me

And I immediately looked away I now live with my 10 year old daughter Amy It's been a good life up until Amy gave me the permission slip a few days ago. It was for a five-day trip at White Rock Creek. I knew Amy and she would always want me to chaperone her on field trips and I couldn't tell her about Hippity Hop. It was for sure given nightmares for months.

I know it's stupid to go back, but Amy really wants to go on this trip and I would do anything to make her happy after the divorce. So, like I said before, This is like a goodbye from me Hippity Hop's words are repeating my head now I'll be sure to pay you a visit when you return Never bring your kids to White Rock Creek

Because he's not gone He'll visit me when I get there But I've come to accept it At least I'll see Zach again Even if it's in hell Me and Hippity Hop were best friends We'll hug when he visits me and this time he won't let me go.

I grew up in a small village called Dober Springs, named after the rich water which surrounded it. It's barely on any maps, and I'm pretty sure Google doesn't even list it. We had people run out of the town to pick up supplies, but often we lived off the land. The only visitors we got were relatives who left town, yet found themselves drawn back for visits. As you can imagine, nothing exciting happened much outside the turn. turmoil of small village gossip. So, when a clown rolled into town, it was on the tips of everyone's lips. At first, it was talked of like an urban legend. Did you spot the strange clown? You were either dismissed for propagating the legend or hailed for tales of the event.

However, as more and more claimed to have seen it, it became irrefutable that there was indeed a clown wandering the streets. Piecing together from everyone's testimonials, well, the believable ones anyway. It seemed the clown would walk the streets with a huge grin on his face. He never said a word and was always in costume. On the moments you didn't just catch a glimpse of him turning the corner, a colourful blur on the edge of your vision. He was performing. It became a sight to see when he would pull up to couples in the street, pull out a novelty-sized plastic flower, only to skirt water on one's face, or spilled something in an exaggerated comedic fashion, try wipe it up with a handkerchief, only for it to be daisy-chained and a seemingly infinite length. The town was a buzz.

On one hand, he was loved for adding colour to the otherwise drab scene of the town. Others held him a nuisance and said he should be expelled. I personally had no opinion, until I finally met him myself. I was with two of my friends, Jake and Charlie. It was after school and we didn't need to be home for quite some time. So, we were doing what we always did before the weekend hit. We loitered around the town centre. We sat by the old fountain with some soft drinks,

litter cast aside, much to the chagrin of the elders, when we heard something approach. Was it ominous footsteps from yonder? No. Was it the stalking of a wild animal? No. It was the squeaks and honks of the clown's shoes. He waddled his way over to us,

a huge grin stretched across his face. We all looked, stunned. We knew he was real, but since we hadn't seen him yet, it didn't feel real until then. We stared, unsure how to act as he made his comedic shuffle towards us, and then he stopped. The tension was ripe as we waited with abated anticipation,

wondering if this was how our childhood would end at the hands of the strange-town myth buried in the gossip of the town. He reached over towards Jake, slowly extending his hand past his head, towards his ear. He whipped his fingers and from behind produced a large coin. Jake recoiled and fell over, scared beyond his wits. In almost an anticlimactic finale,

the clown held out the coin and pandered across us all in a gesture to make us see. He then jerked his hand and in a phasmogorical motion, the coin disappeared. Charlie and I broke from our panic into a lucid sort of amusement. We laughed and clapped as he waddled away to disappear around a corner. Jake was less impressed. He immediately went defensive, saying how he was caught off guard, how if he wasn't worried the clown was somehow paranormal, he would have knocked him out on the spot.

It seemed he took our amusement to the clown as an attack on Jake's pride. He felt mocked and targeted, and from then on would only slander the clown whenever. he was brought up. After a few weeks, and went from whispers about the mysterious town clown to everyone having their own encounter story. Tales were swapped around school at meal times and breaks, feeling still mixed, but excitement still a buzz in the air. Stories range from innocuous to strange. One kid claimed the clown walked up to him in the park. Like with most of us, he was too afraid to move. The clown grouted his drink, pulled out a newspaper fashioned into a cone, and poured the

rest of the beverage in. He then whipped the paper straight, and there was no liquid inside. The clown awkwardly waddled away. Once broken from his trance, he was amused at the act, but sad that he no longer had a drink. But then he saw the clown peering around a lone tree in the field. He pointed towards him. After figuring out that he was pointing next to him, he saw that there was a new drink next to him. He drank his new drink while staring at the tree, wondering when he'd come out again. There was nowhere for him to go on either side. After nothing happened, he approached to see if he was still there, but he was gone. A girl in my class told some of us that she woke up one night to the clown just standing in the corner of her room. She was scared,

but lucid, and ended up falling back asleep. When she woke up, there was a balloon animal in the spot he was standing. Of course, many of us didn't believe her. It seemed the adult, had a different way of seeing it. A lot of them, especially the older, more traditional generation, thought him a menace, terrorizing innocent bystanders with his hijinks. Some even went as far as to describe him as a visual sort of the aesthetic of the town. In the town meeting, in which most of the town met, we heard stories and testimonies. Some told various stories of the kind of strange things the clown we'd get up to,

but they'd add a malicious tone to everything, Riling of those that were already predisposed to being against his presence. In the end, the town was divided. Some were okay with this new visitor, enjoying the colour he added to the town. He always kept things interesting in a friendly way. Some were unbothered, choosing not to join in the debate, and others were ready to race pitchforks. Things carried on as normal.

Well, as normal as things can be, with a strange clown performing 24-7 anyway. You see, the longer things went, the more questions came up. For a start, his appearances were a constant from the time he arrived. There would be a spotting every day, often multiple times. There wasn't a clear window of time he would perform. Sometimes he'd be spotted in the town square at lunchtime, riling up locals while on their break. Other times, people would wake up from a drunk night out,

with hazy memories of meeting the cloud at 4 in the morning on their way home, always full of energy, performing some planned bit. Another strange query was that no one knew where he lived. When he popped up, he'd just come out from around a corner, and, after performing his act, he'd disappear in the strangest ways. Some cited this as part of his act, but others were perturbed by how efficient he was at this, especially those that were apprehensive about him in the first place.

Overall, he was an enigma, and you were either okay with this or terrified. Personally, my family and I didn't mind him. We learned to just accept that he was going to perform some stunt when he approached. It was easy to let him do his thing, be impressed and move on. My friend Charlie was the same, though his parents didn't share the same feelings. It was Jake and his family that were some of the more vocally opposed to the clown. his parents were outcries in the exile of the clown

and Jake would twist his encounter with the clown into a negatively construed tail I was too young at the time to be mad at what they were doing I remember just being confused sadly this was the most peaceful era of his time here as his hygings continued so did the rise in tension

the people in the fence grew tired of his pranks and acts and started leaning towards the more opposed group Even some of the people that were amused by him at first started to grow frustrated at trying to keep up appearances around him As a kid, I loved it when he played with me However, the adult seemed to have less patience Charlie's parents tried to get him to leave the clown alone when he was about I remember a time when we were by the fountain again

And as the clown wordlessly approached us Pretending to pull a rope towards us acting like a strong wind was keeping him back Charlie dipped his head and walked away The clown played it off like he was looking for him, putting a flat hand to his forehead and scanning around like cartoon pirates did when looking out at sea. But Charlie didn't play along. Afterwards, he told me his parents told him he had to do that from now on.

The clown didn't seem to mind, carrying on as normal to me before leaving. But Charlie seemed a bit upset at having to miss the fun. If Jake was with us, he'd leave in a completely different demeanour. He would storm off. giving the dirtiest look to the clown and to us on the way out. Afterwards, he keep up his charade of being able to defend himself if need be. Jake's behaviour no longer fuelled by fear, but by hatred. The same kind as parents had.

Charlie and I would always be confused as to why that would need to happen. The clown didn't have a malicious bone in his body. Though my parents never swayed from their positive outlook, they quieted down. The more authoritative figures in the community were started. starting to crack down on people encouraging the, quote, menace. I was told I could still be approached. However, I couldn't act too impressed, lest I be seen as the one keeping him around. They acted like he was an animal, and he was staying around because he was being fed attention.

Slowly, more and more people would shun the town jester, and very soon the majority lay on that side of the fence. This all came to her head and a cold November night. A rowdy couple were out drinking Eric was the son of the head teacher And just freshly hit the legal age of drinking The girl he was with was Vicky A nice girl that was out for a fun time They funneled out the small club early

To get a head start home to beat the crowds When they were approached From behind a lamppost The local clown made his comedic wadled towards them Small hunk sounds ringing out with each step No one knows what trick the clown pulled but whatever it was, Eric was not amused. He shoved the clown and proceeded to kick him,

the sound of hornhunks and cowbelltings ringing in the 2am air, mixed in with a few notes of a bicycle bell. Eric grabbed Vickie's hand and pulled her away, much to a protest, and left the clown there beaten. Eric told his story of triumph of standing up to the town menace, though in Viggy's version she mentioned to a few of us that as she was being pulled away, she looked back to see if the clown was still alive.

All she saw was his face, watching them leave. That same grin of unbridled joy stretched across his face, as if he wasn't perturbed at all by the attack. The town talked this over, some bringing up comeuppance, others talking about things going overboard. The town settled on a divide, most wanting the clown to be evicted.

The only problem was how to do it. no one knew him personally and there was no legal grounds on his attempted exile it didn't matter though because a week later he was found dead in the middle of the town square the colourful body lay unmoving

his red smile mixed in with the blood that ran across his face it was apparent that he was beaten badly in the night no one approached the body but the commotion brought more people over eventually most of the town were in the centre, staring at the body that hung limply against the town fountain. It was obvious what had happened. The whispers carried rumours and opinions.

Some of the rumours of a group of people wandering the night with blunt objects, one figure looking remarkably similar to Eric. The first person to break the silence was one of the elders, one of the ones that fervently wanted the clown gone. He yelled out statements like what's done is done, and that though this was a tragedy, the town would be better for it. Those not wanting him to hang on limp silence gave jeers of support, though they came out hesitant.

My parents pulled me close, pain in their stance. Silence reigned, some under an air of grieving, others of hesitation. Just before a move was made, something catastrophic happened. The body burst into an inferno of flames. The plume was unnatural and completely. completely out of the blue. Though people were shocked at the sudden burst, we didn't panic knowing it was in the middle of a concrete path next to a body of water.

There were efforts to try splash it with water from the fountain, but all it seemed to do was cause loud sizzling sounds and blooms of smoke to burst upwards. It wasn't until the fifth villager that pitched in to move water under the flames, to no avail. That worry started to spread almost as fast as the flames. Very quickly it seeped across the dry concrete towards the sea. shops and cafes nearby. Discourse spread as some sprinted to action, trying other methods to quell the fire. Some grabbed nearby sand like it was an oil fire. Others ran into business buildings to rip out the fire extinguishers. Nothing helped. My mom pulled me away as she followed

my dad out of the town square. I only blimpsed back, but I could swear I saw a darkened figure dancing in the flames, a wiry grinned flickering in the shadows of the flames. The ravenous fires spread, some people not fast enough to retrieve valuables from their home, before it was engulfed in flames. We'd only managed to pull out what we could carry in our backs before having to abandon our lifelong home. The town's populace had to edge out towards the outskirts of the village, the flames engulfing anything in their path, hungrily lapping up all that didn't move. Screams could be heard. We only hoped they were of panic and not pain. As we made it to the very edge of Dobra Springs, someone pointed out a peculiar thing.

A figure out of the hill nearby, moving strangely. A few of us approached, checking if they were okay, but even at a distance, it was easy to spot who it was from the flashy colours they were wearing. It was the clown. He was joyously prancing about, miming a motion of feeling a wall, pressing hard and tapping. tapping around. He looked like he was enjoying himself, despite the chaos around him. A few of us approached him, hesitantly, due to the insane happenings when there were some screams of shock behind us. A few people from our group were acting strange. They were pushing against an invisible wall, just like the clown, only they didn't look like they were playing. They leaned

hard and their feet scraped against the floor as they shoved. But whatever was holding them back did not budge. Others, however, walked by with ease, my family included. Everyone who made it to the end of the village took it in turns, apprehensively trying to step through the invisible pass. It seemed random who'd make it through and who wouldn't. Sometimes one would step forward with no problem as if they were taking a morning stroll. Then you'd watch someone stub their toe which would make them fall forward and crash into the barrier, like someone walking into a glass door. Charlie made it through and joined my family, but when his parents went to follow, they were blocked off. Charlie tried to reach in to pull them out, but to no avail.

He was now locked out, as were the rest of us that made it through. I looked back, staring at all the faces I knew on the other side. Jake and his family held hands as they looked onward in confusion. The mass exodus of the town continued, and we had a healthy number of people. outside the town limits. However, there was a large portion of the population trapped inside. We could still hear them clearly, and panic was rising. One voice stood out, and we soon got our answer. The crowd's murmurs turned into angry rumblings when they spotted the clown, slowly making his way over. They weren't tones of shock at seeing him seemingly rise from the dead, or strange whispers of his odd movement. It was disgust of his presence. They were the people,

that held disdain of the clown in their heart. The clown gave the lot a cheeky wave, to which some started to try throw stones and debris at him, earning blame in his direction. The objects just bounce off the wall he was so playfully patting down. His mind act no longer looking like an act, but a message

that he was now in control. The fires blazed, roars of flames reminding us all of our reason of being gathered together. The anger turned to panic as they tried harder to break through. But when I say the wall gave no resistance, I mean it. It didn't so much as flex,

even as the strongest amongst them worked together to strike through. Though they physically could not make it through, there was no resistance to sound, and we could hear their panic rise in clarity as the flames were soon upon their heels. My parents pulled me away quickly, trying to turn me away from the inevitable. I tried to turn back,

my child had hoped saying that, everything always works out in the end, that I'd see Jake, his family, and the rest of them make it through, the lesson learned and hearts renewed. I didn't make it all the way around, though, because I locked eyes with a clown who just smiled at me and bowed. That was the night Dober Springs was wiped off the map. Us, the survivors, reported it as a tragedy. Investigators were confused at the sight of the gathered corpses at the edge of the town, but eventually it was concluded to be as we told it. Nothing of the clown was ever mentioned.

I always figured it was to protect him. But nowadays, I feel it was fear. No one has seen him since. When the clown sightings of 2016 happened, these memories surfaced, and I kept an eye out for similarities between my case and these. But nothing came of it. He seems to be gone.

but on the off chance you do see him. Please be nice to him. And tell him, I said hi.