CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "A Pile of Dirt" Creepypasta

Episode Date: May 14, 2021

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I pushed a sign deep into the ground and looked at the kids gathering up the street with thinly veiled satisfaction. Keep off the dirt. I'd seen the way their eyes gleamed when the truck had come to deliver it and decided on a preemptive strike. A tall pile of fill dirt was irresistible for a small child, and I needed as much of this dirt from my project as possible. Having it scattered all over the yard would make that difficult, and I needed to post signs before the neighbourhoods. Rowdy's got any ideas. I went back inside then, not wanting to feel questions about my dirt.

Sitting in my easy chair, pretending to watch TV, I could see them gathering around to look at the sign. They hunkered over the handlebars of the tent speeds and looked dubiously at the sign I had stuck in the mountain of dirt in the front yard. The sign was pretty straightforward, but I wouldn't put it past these kids to find a loophole. They knew me. as the cool neighbour, the single guy who gave up full-size candy bars on Halloween and sometimes played baseball in the street with them, the guy who drank on his front porch, and sometimes let them fish in my canal if it was okay with their parents. On some things, however, they knew that I was unbending and that it wouldn't do to argue. They all looked up when I came out on the front

porch to lean against the rail and look at them. If you're hoping to find a playing the dirt free card somewhere on top of that pile, It ain't happening. Reggie looked up, and his face was still hopeful. Gee, Mr. McIntyre, that sure is a great-looking part of the dirt you have there. I nodded, keeping my face neutral as I tried not to smile. Sure is, and it's fulfilling in gover holes, so I'll likely need all of it. If there's any left, though, I'll be sure to let your kids know so you can trample it flat for me.

They rode off down the road, sitting a little higher on their bikes, as they realized there might still be hope. I shook my head as I watched them leave. I never knew anyone to get as excited about a pile of dirt as a bunch of kids. Something about all that fresh parody dirt just made them a little bit crazy. As I looked at the six-foot mound of fine white dirt, I almost felt like jumping in myself. I went inside to finish my preparations, getting work clothes on and finding my gloves. I sat in the living room, pulling my boots on, when I saw something out of the corner. corner of my eye.

I glanced up. The afternoon shadows just started to lengthen, and I saw a pair of small figures standing beside the road. I paused in mid-tie, looking up to see two small forms looking at the pile of dirt. It looked to be a couple of neighbourhood kids, maybe having one last look before going back. I shook my head. Kids were so predictable. I finished tying my boots and stepped out.

onto the front porch. Looking is fine, but I don't want to see anyone in my... The road was empty. I looked up and down the road. The kids were already playing a game of touch football further down the cul-de-sac, and I picked up my shovel as I thought about how strange that had been. Those two must have been really booking it to make it back to their playmates that quickly. As I started scooping dirt, I thought longingly about having that kind of energy.

It would make my job easier. I spent the rest of the afternoon filling in gopher holes. It had been a particularly bad season for them, and the dirt was a band-aid solution at best. The gophers would continue to dig up my yard until I invested in a dog or something. I kept slinging dirt until the sun grew low in the sky, one angry chuck actually coming up to growl at me

before I threw a shovel full of dirt on him. When it became too dark to see, I thrust my shovel into the pile of the pile of, dirt and shook the remaining dirt off myself. The kids were finishing up their football game, heading home as the streetlights came on. They all looked longingly at the pile of dirt, but they knew better than to make a play for it

while I was standing on my front porch. My cigarette winked on and off as I stood watching the sun go down, and I pitched the end into the dirt as I went inside. I was frying up some hamburgers when I heard the first tremor of laughter from the front yard. Over the sound of popping grease, I could hear the scuttling laughter of children as they played out front.

I walked over to the living room window and looked out into the front yard. By the streetlights ghostly light, I could see them playing on the man of dirt I had out front. There were two of them, both dressed in dirty jeans and colourful shirts, and both having a ball as they capered on the dirt pile. I was out the door in a matter of seconds, yelling before the door had come fully open. Hey, just what the hell do you think you're doing? Can't you read? Stay off the... The street lights were dim, but even I could see the absence of people in my yard. I walked over to the pile, looking around to see if anyone was hiding behind it.

I saw pretty quickly that this wasn't going to be the case. The dirt pile was hardly three feet tall and a kid would have to get pretty low to hide behind it. I glanced up and down the street, but the only one was hardly three feet tall, and a kid would have to get pretty low to hide behind it. I glanced up and down the street, but the dirt pile was. but the only thing moving on the road was an old chip bag pushed by the wind. I looked back at the pile, and was shocked to find that I didn't even see any footprints. The wide, low dirt pile still looked fairly pristine, other than shovel marks. I scratched my head, sure of what had seen, but I went back inside anyway.

Maybe I'd just been working too hard today. I pour my fries out of the oven just as they started to burn. learn. I made two hamburgers and added them to the pile of french fries. I tipped a beer into a chill glass and brought them both to the table. After an afternoon spent shoveling dirt, I was tired and ready for a bite, and as I lifted the first one from the plate, I heard my stomach grumble as the grease ooze off the meat. I had just taken the first bite when I heard the metal clanging of my shoal falling over. I looked up to find those kids playing in my dirt pile again.

I came barreling out of the door, my dinner cooling on my plate as I stormed to send these kids off. I was becoming frustrated. I had made it pretty clear that I didn't want people on my dirt pile. I had been pretty nice about it, posting signs and asking the kids not to mess with it. But it appeared that some of these kids just weren't getting it. If I needed to be a hard ass to keep these kids off my dirt,

I suppose I will have to be a hard ass. I had barely gotten two words out of my mouth before I once again noticed the yard was empty. I was really getting tired of this. I know what I saw and what I saw was the same pair of filthy kids on my pile of dirt.

No matter how many times I checked that yard however there was never any sign of trespassers. The strangest part was the lack of footprints though. The sand was fresh, maybe even a little damp when you got past the top layer. The kids had been jumping on the sand like a trampoline. There should have been footprints, handprints, something. They came back three more times that night, but the last is the only one that really stands out.

That was the worst of their appearances. They appeared again as I was finishing my dishes, and again as I sat watching TV. I came striding out to holler at them both times. but all I found was an empty yard both times. This was ridiculous. What the hell was going on? I know what I saw,

but they were always gone the instant I came outside. Nobody could move that fast, especially not a bunch of dirty kids. And what the hell were they doing out after dark? Most of the parents on this block didn't meet their kids out after the streetlights came on. Something funny was going on here. The last time I saw them, that night at least.

was just before bedtime. I had thought the pranks were over as the time slipped on. It was 11 o'clock, and I was walking through the living room to get something to help me sleep. I was still a little on edge, and I thought that a nightcap might help me calm down a bit. I was coming out of the kitchen with my tumbler of whiskey, the curtains still open on the front yard,

when I saw them there. My glass slipped out of my hands as the two kids stood, crouched on top of my pile of, of dirt. I was speechless for a moment as the angry fire built inside of me. I was furious. Who the hell did these kids think they were? They came storming out in the middle of the night, trying to mess with me.

But why? I had made a very simple request. Why were these kids tormenting me? Because I wouldn't let them play in my pile of dirt. If I had stopped to quell my anger, I might have noticed that something wasn't right with these two. The night air was cool on my bare chest As I came shambling out of my house like an angry bull Who the hell do you think you are

It's almost midnight Get your asses over here right now I'm gonna call your parents and let them know what you've been up to I've had a good mind to They hadn't moved this time though They just stood and that man of dirt Like two scronny scarecrowes Glaring at me through the dirt caked over their faces

My God Had they been eating the dirt or something I thought them filthy, but these kids were downright grimy. They didn't seem at all concerned with me, but I definitely had their full attention. I had come half into the yard when I saw their eyes. They both seemed to have a nasty case of red eye. They stared at me, their eyes seemed to glow somehow, and I suddenly noticed that they cast no shadows in the dim street lights.

They should have. The pile of dirt in my shovel. cast a long gantry in the failing light, but these two had nothing. I had stopped now, barely 20 feet from the pair, when the larger of the two took a step towards me. When his dirty sneaker gritted against the loose earth, the red piping looking faded beneath all the mud,

I saw the earth drop over it like a hand. He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but all that came out was wet soil. Sand and mud bubbled out over his lips, and the dirt that had occurred. covered his foot began to slide up his leg as well. The other fell to his knees,

clutching his throat as he coughed up leaves and mud as well. The sand slid over his hands and up his arms, even as the dirt bound the first boy to the pile by his knees. They both struggled, trying to free themselves

from the prison of sand, but their efforts were ultimately in vain. The sand reclaimed them both in a sudden whoosh. In a blink, they were both gone again. I walked backward, never taken my eyes off the pile until the door was closed between us.

The next day, I set to work early. I wanted that pile of dirt out of my yard before nightfall. I worked diligently, filling in holes and putting the pile to good use. I used it to fill in a few of the potholes in front of my house even. I just wanted as much of it gone as I could manage. I no longer cared how it happened. When the kids came by and the bikes I told them to leave

They seemed disappointed But I didn't want them anywhere near this dirt pile I was filling in an exceptionally large gopher hole And something caught my eye I nearly turned back to the pile When something pale and long Made me take a second look At first I thought it might be a worm

But the more I looked The more I thought I knew what it was I bent down the shovel hit in the ground woodenly, as I reached down to pick up what I hoped was a bleached piece of wood. It wasn't, though. It was cold, malleable, if not unmovable, and crooked like a letter sea of pale, purpling flesh.

The perfectly filthy nail was hardly visible at the tip of the small finger. I went back to the pile and saw the rest of the hand poking out from the bottom, minus the finger I had accidentally severed. The cop's cane. when I called, and they brought dogs with them as well, and big white forensic vans. They excavated the body of a 10-year-old from the bottom of the dirt pile, his face frozen in a look of terrified disbelief. He was dressed in very dirty, if not very familiar, clothes, and his sneakers had the same filthy red piping that I had seen the night before.

When they lifted him free, they found his other hand intertwined with something as he came free. So too did the other hand. The other boy had been about eight, and the two had died hand in hand. The police wanted to arrest me, really bring me in for questioning, but

the forensic guys figured out pretty quickly that these kids had been dead for at least a month. A quick search determined that they had also been on the missing person's roster for about three weeks, and their parents had feared that they'd been abducted. They'd been playing near the sandpits before they had gone missing, and the coroner would later find dirt and mud in their lungs and mouths.

He figured they'd been climbing the big sand piles they have out there, piles just waiting to be scooped into a truck and sold as fill dirt, and one of them had been sucked down by a pocket of air or an empty spot in the pile. His brother had tried to help him and ended up getting pulled down as well. The two had suffocated as they tried to get out and had been picked up with the fill dirt as they trucked it to the company I'd bought it from. It happened sometimes, the coroner told me when I asked him about it a few weeks later.

Kids never think about that kind of thing. They just see a big pile of dirt and start climbing. I haven't seen the two since they took the bodies away, and the company I bought it from came and got the rest of the dirt after they gave me a full refund. I hope they find peace wherever they are now. I think from now on, I'll just hire someone to fill in the holes in my yard.

I don't ever want to see another pile of dirt for as long as I live.