CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "A group of US Marines heard a baby's cry in the jungles of the Philippines" Creepypasta

Episode Date: August 20, 2023

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by TheDarkVoid79: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comm...Creepypastas 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. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- • "I wasn't careful enough on the deep ... ►"Personal Favourites"- • "I sold my soul for a used dishwasher... ►"Written by me"- • "I've been Blind my Whole Life" Creep... ►"Long Stories"- • Long Stories 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

The following are extracts from the diary of my great-great-grand-uncle, who served in the United States Marine Corps during the Philippine-American War. Doing research on him, his records say he was dishonorably discharged from the Marine Corps due to drunkenness. Reading through these entries, I think I understand why he turned to the bottle during his last year in service. I can still remember the baby's cry. I can still remember the sight of the mother going around the village, carrying her injured child, begging for help.

The baby was a goner. We all knew that. With one arm ripped off by bullet and blood spilling everywhere, it was a miracle that the baby still had enough energy to cry. The baby was strong. I got to hand that to him. But no strength was enough to save him. The bullet that struck him was a stray one, fired from an insurrecto from the jungle during

the first attack they made since our arrival the day prior. It occurred early today at dawn, while most of us and the villagers were still asleep. Firing wildly at the village, the insurgents' follies managed to miss our pickets, as well as us marines sleeping in the flimsy huts that passed off as our barracks. were lucky, but the kid was not. Moments after his mother searched the village for help, the baby's crying stopped. I feel sorry for the poor kid and mother, but there was nothing that could be done. They were simply unlucky.

A funeral is to be held tomorrow, and the captain wanted some of us Marines to help in the ceremony. We hope to show the villagers that we were on their side. and win their respect by assisting in their traditions. However, the village suggested that it would be best for us to stay away from the funeral. He told the captain that the mother and some of her relatives were angry at us, blaming us for a child's death. She thinks that if we weren't here in the village, then the insurgtos would never have attacked and fired that bullet that killed a child.

The village leader feared that our presence and our presence in the village. the funeral would have caused some sort of fight between us and the family. Hearing this frustrated the captain, but he relented, although not before muttering how ungrateful the locals were for the protection we were giving them against the wandering the drowners. So far, it seems that I stay here, has started out badly. I was out at the picket line last night,

when I heard movement in front of me, just behind some bushes there was someone there. Immediately I pointed the rifle towards the direction of the noise and fired. No one was supposed to be outside the village at this time, so it meant any native out of that time was most likely an insurrecto. Almost immediately, my shot alerted the other pickets and the Marines back of the village. From behind me, I could hear officers and NCOs waking. sleeping marines and ordering them to the respective outposts. Soon enough I heard the sergeants

calling out to us on the picket line ordering us to get back and rejoin our respective sections. I wasted no time at running back towards the village to take up my position at my assigned outpost. However, as I made my way back, I noticed a lack of fire coming from the jungle. This quickly told me that no attack was coming. For a moment, I feared I may have caused a false alarm, but I knew what I heard. There had been movement right in front of me. This insistence, however, did little to stop the annoyed remarks from the others who complained that I woke them up for nothing.

We spent the rest of the night restlessly waiting for an attack, that never came. Despite the lack of an insurgent attack, I was ultimately proven right that I did indeed hear movement. The first patrol of the day inspected the area I said I fired my shot towards and found that there was a body there.

However, I'm not proud that my bullet found its mark because the one I struck down was a woman To be specific, it was the woman who lost the baby during the insurgent attack. We were all confused on why she was outside the village that night. To make things even more confusing, it was later found out that she had dug out her child's grave, leaving it empty. The officers speculated that the woman was planning to join her husband, who was an insurrecto, and that she brought a dead child with her so that they could bury her.

him in the mountains. I'm not fully convinced by this. One of my friends, who was on the patrol that saw her body, told me that she fell in a way that looked like she was going back to the village, not away from it. He also said that her clothes and feet were muddy, as if she had just come back from the mountains. This, combined with the fact that they couldn't find the corpse of a child with her when she fell, tells me that she would have. tells me that she went to the mountains with a body and came back without it. I don't know what this all means, but it makes me feel uneasy thinking about it. Garrison life in this village has been peaceful these last couple of days.

Compared to the last fishing village we were assigned to protect, where we were attacked almost nightly, our stay out here has been calm. With no insurgent attacks occurring after the first encounter we had with, them. Most of the boys are happy about this, but I personally find it strange. These islands are filled to the angry natives who want nothing more than for us to leave. So to find a little corner of these islands that just so happens to have passive insurgos just feels wrong. I'm not the only one to think that this is strange, as the captain has been restless these past couple of days, wondering why the insurgos had been so quiet.

At first he thought that the enemy was taking their time, choosing to observe us from a distance so that they could gather their strength and make a plan before springing their attack. He says that an army garrison on another island had stayed in a village that they thought was peaceful, but once their guard was down, the insurrectos and the villagers rose up and massacred each one of them. Who doesn't want us Marines to meet the same fate? So, he increased security at our little outpost, doubling patrols around the village,

and making sure that there were always two Marines guarding our barracks at night. However, our patrols of the surrounding jungle confused us more, as they seemed to show that there had been no recent insurgent activity near the village. Normally, footprints of Incerrecto scouts would be found at the village outskirts, but here, there were none. So this either means the insurrectos here were better at covering their tracks, or that they're just not trying at all. If it was the latter, then why?

It didn't seem like them to leave one other carousins, untouched or unobserved. Lieutenant Miller, one of the glory hunting officers of the company, believes the lack of insurgent activity reveals that the enemy is weak in this area. He thinks that the insurrectors in charge of these parts are either few in number, few in weapon, sick with dysentery, or all of the three. Because of this, he believes that it's the perfect time to strike before the insurgents could resolve their issues. Rumour is that he suggested to the captain that a strong expedition should be sent out to hunt for the insurgent camp and eliminate them.

I can't say I approve of this idea, but that's just because there's a high chance that the captain will task Lieutenant Miller with such an operation. With me being part of his platoon, then that means I would end up marching through the hot and muddy jungle deep within Inserecto country, praying that none of those feral natives was hiding behind the thickets with a rifle pointed at me patrolling the nearby jungle outskirts of the village was already bad enough but heading straight to enemy territory definitely brings higher risk

I'd rather be stuck here doing menial tasks such as watching the villagers plant rice or inspecting their fishing boats for contraband then go out there actively hunting for them Our platoon started the march early in the day, just before the sun rose. Lieutenant Miller, flanked by our trusted native scout, and a local villager we coerced to guide us through the jungle paths led the way. Who was said to be the brother of one of the insurrectors here, marched in front of the lieutenant, to make sure that the enemy would be hesitant at firing a volley at our officer.

Our goal was to reach the stream located a few miles away from the village. My native scout had extracted information from one of the villagers that such a stream existed and may be used by the insurgos as their water source out there in the jungle. Lieutenant Miller hoped to search the area around the stream and locate the insurgent camp. As expected, the march was difficult, with narrow, slippery path. all along the way. Things only got worse once the sun rose up, as it added uncomfortable heat to our already laborious tasks. A few hours into our march, every single Marine had their uniforms soaking in sweat. The only good thing about the march was that we weren't

harassed by the interregors. We took a couple of quick breaks along the way, but eventually, at around midday, we reached the stream. Making sure that the area was clear, we took another quick break to regain our energy and refill our canteens before beginning the search for the insurgent camp. Splitting up into three sections, I ended up being the one led by the lieutenant himself. Deciding to go upstream, he led us along rocky terrain flanked by thick jungle. With every step, I fear that the insurrectos would ambush us. We kept quiet as we made our way, trying to listen to our surroundings, while looking for any sign of the enemy.

I don't remember how long it took, but we eventually found something. It was not what any of us were expecting. Laying by the stream was a native, unmoving and lifeless. From what I initially saw, I noticed that his clothes were stained in blood. Cautiously, we approached, wondering if this was an ambush. However, after a few minutes of silence, Lieutenant Miller decided to move up towards the laying native. We followed close behind him. Once the lieutenant stood by the body, a sergeant divided us,

with one group led by the sergeant spreading out to form a picket around the area while the other group stayed by the lieutenant. The fallen native was an interrector. There was no doubt about that. With him being deep in the jungle and with a revolver nearby him, we knew that it was our enemy. But the way he died is what attracted our curiosity. Being there next to Lieutenant Miller, I saw the natives' clothes and skin had tear and scratch marks,

while his stomach was gutted open, entrails chewed on and spread all over. To me, it seemed like some wild animal with sharp claws and teeth attacked him, and began opening his stomach and eating his internal organs. It was a gruesome sight, and I had to do my best to keep my composure as I saw. stood there, we all thought that the insurgto was attacked by a jungle animal. What animal it was, we weren't sure, but I feared we could be its next victim. For a moment, I gave a short prayer, hoping that whatever animal that attacked him was no longer hungry.

We stayed there for a while, debating amongst ourselves what type of animal could have done that to the insorecto. the sergeant who informed the picket line called out to the lieutenant. Sir, one of my men found the enemy camp, he called out. It's just behind the bushes, over here. With that, everyone quickly drought our rifles and double time towards the sergeant. Positioning ourselves behind a thick wall of bushes, we peered through the leaves and saw a clearing. On that clearing was a small camp, with huts, some scattered crates and sacks.

and, to our surprise, deceased Inserectos. Cautiously moving forward and out of the bushes, we entered the enemy camp and searched the place. There was no one there, only us and the dead. Counting the bodies, we saw at least 30, all dead. Inspecting their corpses, we noted that they suffered the same fate as the Insurecto by the stream. Like him, their clothing and skin had tear marks and scratches, while their stomachs ripped open and guts chewed on. This scared us all.

And I even saw the normally unfazed Lieutenant Miller give worried glances toward the number of dead and gutted insurrectos on the jungle floor. Nothing there made sense. And we began to question if it was possible for an animal or even a group of animals that do such a thing. Clearly these men were armed and clearly they had tried fighting off whatever attacked them as empty cases littered the ground. Yet despite their efforts they were still massacred. Not feeling secure with a few men he had there, Lieutenant Miller ordered one Marine to contact the other two sections and have them regroup with us. Meanwhile the

rest of us Marines remained at the camp and took up defensive positions in case a different group of interregos came by to retake the camp. As I stood watch at one section of the camp, I could hear Lieutenant Miller and the sergeant talk behind me. Do you really think animals did this? The lieutenant asked. Well, sir, it's the only possible answer. I heard the sergeant respond. It reminds me of a bear attack back home.

Now, I'm not saying it was a bear. bear that did this. Hell, I'm not sure if they have bears here on this godfescate island, but it's what it reminds me of. Whatever the lieutenant was going to say in response was suddenly drowned out by the chilling cry of a baby. Turning my attention towards the cry, I quickly realized that it was coming from the piece of jungle ahead of me, acting on instinct, I quickly raised my rifle towards the direction, but withheld my fire. Soon, the lieutenant and sergeant moved closer towards me, until the two were flanking me as they gazed towards the jungle. For a moment, we all remain silent, as we listened to the cry of the

baby. It sounded nearby, probably only a few yards away. However, due to the things, thickness of the jungle. It was impossible to see where the source was. Many questions plagued my mind at that moment. Why was there a baby deep within the jungle? Was it alone? Was this a trap being set up by the insurgents? I'm sure the lieutenant was wondering the same thing, as he took his time thinking how he should respond to the situation. I'm not exactly sure what went on inside his head. But him being a glory-seeking character, he probably thought that it would look good for him to investigate the source of the cry and, if the baby was found, save it. The image of us marines saving a native baby from the clutches of the insurrectos would work

well for our relations with the villagers, and the lieutenant probably thought that the captain would praise him for such a success. I believe that was what the lieutenant was thinking. when he ordered us to follow him, leaving behind only three Marines to remain at the clearing to secure it and await the others. The lieutenant led the way, pushing his way through the jungle. I followed close behind him, with the rest of the boys behind me, and the sergeant at the rear of our column. There seemed to be no path towards the source of the crying, so the lieutenant was forced to improvise and cut through the force. foliage with a native bowler knife he always brought with him. Eventually, the sound of crying grew louder and louder, further encouraging the lieutenant as he worked

harder to get through the jungle. Staying close behind him, scanning ahead to make sure that the ground ahead of the lieutenant was safe, I couldn't help but notice something as the crying echoed in my ears. The cry. sounded familiar. I know that the cries of babies often sound the same, but this one sounded so familiar. It reminded me of the cry of the baby

that was struck by an interrectose bullet, the one who died earlier this week. The thought of that brought a chill through my bones. As the sound of crying drew closer, the lieutenant eventually reached the piece of flat ground, shoving aside some large leaves, he soon gave out a victorious shout as he pointed ahead of him. Looking past him, I soon saw a baby on the ground, laying on dirt, crying as it lay there. However, as I got a good glimpse of the child, I felt my body stiff and in fear.

The baby was missing most of its arm. It looked as if the rest of its arm was torn off or shot off a mixture of panic and fear filled me during that moment as ridiculous as it seemed I thought that it was the baby that had been killed at the village but it was impossible the baby was gone

so who was this right in front of us who was this baby that looked exactly like it After scanning the area to make sure it was safe, the lieutenant slowly kneeled and prepared to pick up the baby. Standing just behind him, I clutched my rifle firmly in my hands, as I felt a sense of unease. Watching the lieutenant turned towards me, I saw the baby cradled in his hands as he ordered us back to the clearing. However, as he was about to step forward and lead the way one way one's just to the way Once more, the baby began to peel its skin. Right before my eyes, the skin of the baby began to peel off like a snake.

Eyes wide in fear, I fixated on it as the skin separated to reveal a second layer underneath, one covered in wrinkles. At that moment, the lieutenant noticed my reaction and looked down at the baby to be surprised of what he saw. In reaction, he nearly dropped it, but the baby moved quickly, as its one complete arm suddenly grabbed him by the neck. The grasp must have been strong, because I could hear the lieutenant begin to choke. Losing hair, he fell on the ground as he desperately tried to pull the baby off of him.

Shaking off my initial shock, I moved toward the lieutenant and, after dropping my rifle, tried to pull on the baby who was grasping tightly on his neck. However, my hands only managed to hold on to its peeling skin. When I pulled, I ended up pulling his outer skin, completely removing it and revealing fully what was under. It was no baby. It was a monster. Hiding behind an innocent toddler's skin was a creature

that I could only describe as a wrinkly beast with dry skin, pointy ears, bloodshot eyes and disproportionate legs. It was ugly and small. Yet, although its size was that of a baby, its hands had long claws, while its mouth had teeth as sharp as a bayonet. It looked deadly, and it quickly proved that

when it tore into the lieutenant's neck with its teeth. Going wild, he used his teeth and claws to wrap ravaged the lieutenant as he was helpless to fight it off. Soon enough, he stopped struggling, where this creature continued to tear through his body, moving his attention away from its neck and switching its focus to his stomach, which it tore open with ease.

Backing away quickly, I soon realized that the rest of the boys had their rifles trained on the creature, but none of them fired. Even the sergeant just stood there, unable to give orders. I'm not sure if it was because of the shock of what they saw, or the fear of hitting the lieutenant earlier as he struggled. But whichever it was, none of them fired,

and now the lieutenant was dead, body being consumed by a creature of nightmares, as the sound of the creature snarling and tearing through flesh echoed in the jungle. For a moment, it remained like that. Then the sound of babies crying erupted from above us. Looking up at the trees over our heads, I saw a dozen of those terrible creatures hanging on the branches, staring at us with hungry bloodshot eyes.

What occurred next happened so fast, and I remember myself screaming as creatures jumped on us and fell on top of many of the boys. I don't know how I got lucky, but I managed to avoid one from dropping directly on top of me. Instead, he fell hard on the ground. Before I could recover, I gave it a hard kick, sending it flying towards a nearby tree. Looking around, I saw men fighting for their lives, struggling to fend off the creatures that were clawing and gnawing on them, remembering what happened to the lieutenant and realizing,

that there was no way to get that creature off once it was on you. I decided not to stay any longer. Dashing away, I did my best to follow the path we made, as I moved as fast as I could back towards the clearing. Behind me, I could hear the tortured screams of men, as they mixed with the hellish growls of those demonic creatures. I don't remember how long I ran and tumbled through the jungle, but eventually I reached the clearing.

To my relief, the rest of the platoon was now there. Familiar faces greeted me and asked me where the lieutenant and the rest of my section was, but I couldn't reply. Instead, exhaustion overtook me, and I collapsed. Next thing I remember, I was back in the village. Inside one of the huts were used as a field hospital. I was safe now.

I later learned that out of all of the men in my section, I was the only one that survived. The captain asked me what had happened, and I told him what I remembered. But he gave me a strange look, and I knew that he didn't believe me. I can't blame him. I wouldn't have believed my story either if I didn't see it with my own eyes. I have few friends left here. Most think I have lost my mind due to the encounter. Talk among the company says that many think that the lieutenant and the rest of my section were ambushed by insurrectos and badly budged by them in an attempt to send us a horrific message.

From what I hear, they'll soon be shipping me out of here. Johnny, one of my few friends I have left in the company, says the captain has written me off as unfit for combat. They'll probably end up sending me to the garrison at Kavit, where it's much quieter. As much as I hate leaving my unit behind, I'm happy to get away from this place, and the horrors contained within its jungles.