CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "A Stowaway Snuck onto our Nuclear Submarine. The Whole Planet Could be in Danger" Creepypasta

Episode Date: July 27, 2022

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When you live a broader submarine, life is different than it is on dry land. We live our days in six-hour increments. Each block of time set aside for work, training, relaxation or sleep. As a non-qualified submariner, my off-duty hours are spent entirely on getting qualified. I've got a stack of papers with blank signature spaces listed beside things that I need to demonstrate my competence in. everything from fire safety to periscope operation. After a month aboard the nuclear submarine, I only had a handful of things signed off

and was anxious to get everything else done before the time limit expired. That didn't leave much room for sleep. Only about six hours a day and no time to relax either. All I did was practice and study. It was starting to wear on me badly. That was why my eyes had bags under them, why I was having trouble focusing, and why I didn't immediately notice the strangeness of the pale face sitting next to me in the crew mess hall.

The table was full of other people, but it seemed as if I was on an island alone with this man directly beside me, his moist sweaty elbow knocking unpleasantly against mine. Pass the salt, he spit, his words coming out as if underwater. Now. Okay, man, geez, hold on a sec. I reached for a salt packet and handed it to him. More, he gurgled back to me. His voice sounded so strange. Surely he was just messing with me.

I tried to ignore the weirdness of it all. Fine, take them all. I'll just sit over here. here and eat bland eggs. I passed him the whole stack of salt packets and stood up to grab a napkin, just to get a second away from the man. When I got back, my seat was taken by someone else, a qualified submariner who would simply push my tray aside to eat his own breakfast in my place.

I picked up my tray and avoided eye contact. I didn't want to make any enemies or get into any confrontations, and if there was one thing that set people off on the sub, it was bickering over private space. Instead, I just looked around for another open seat. The only problem was, there weren't any. My commanding officer was eating his breakfast, and I hesitantly walked over to speak to him. Excuse me, sir. What is it?

He asked in a dry, annoyed sounding voice. Sorry, sir, it's just that. There's no way to sit. Give me a break. There are exactly enough seats. You aren't looking hard enough. Either that or somebody snuck aboard a storeway. The group of seamen around him giggled, and I felt my face getting hot.

Of course there were enough seats. This place was a well-oiled machine. Nothing was ever overbooked or out of place. Sorry, sir, I'll look again. I turned around with my train hand and took another glance around the room, expecting it to just be as full. But there was one empty seat now. Where the gurgling man had been, the chair was empty.

Taking his spot, I found the seat damp beneath my ass. And that was when I became sure that they were messing with me. Whoever was responsible, they were definitely hazing the new guy. I didn't give them the satisfaction of saying anything. Instead, I simply finished my breakfast in silence. That night, I couldn't sleep. All I could hear was the creaking sound of the hull expanding and contracting. And beneath that, a faint, almost imperceptible knocking,

like someone was outside, begging to be let in. Knock, knock, knock. The following day, I was doing more training. There was always more training. This time it was fire preparedness. I was working with two other non-qualified submariners and an officer who was overseeing us. He would be responsible for signing off on our abilities.

So I was careful with how I spoke to him, being respectful and polite at all times. We were just about to finish the fire hose exercise when I saw the gurgling man from the day before. He caught me off guard. causing me to jump with a startled fright. The man was standing in the small, cramped room where we were training,

watching us from the shadows in the corner. I hadn't noticed him before that. It was like he had just appeared there. I felt a hard slap on the back of my head and looked to see the officer who's supervising us was standing directly beside me, giving me a hard, angry look. Do you know what happens to a vessel at sea,

a fire, he asked us. His voice cold as ice. Uh, it burns, I said, hoping that was the answer he was looking for. It seemed like it was, since he smiled. That's right, it burns, fast and hot. You have seconds to react, then you die. Do you want to die? No, sir. Do you want your friends and fellow crewmen to die? Burning and agony while they scream? My heart rate increased and my throat tightened with fear.

My eyes darted back to the corner where the man had been standing, now gone. The pale, sweaty man from the cafeteria who had wanted salt, who had demanded it in a gurgling, water-logged voice. The officer smacked me on the back of the head again, a little harder this time. You're still daydreaming. If this was a real emergency, you'd be dead right now, them too. He pointed at my training partners. I'm sorry, sir.

Not sorry enough. You can attempt fire safety again in six weeks. Until then, the three of you can take turns on bathroom duty. The other two guys looked at me angrily, and I silently apologised. But it didn't matter. I could tell they were furious. Not just about being stuck on bathroom duty. It was more about the stress of having one more thing on our plates to study for.

One more thing to check off our list, that should have been done already. I had been looking forward to crossing fire safety off my to-do list. The other guys had probably been looking forward to that too. I tried to ease the tension when the officer walked away, hoping I could explain what had happened. I'm really sorry, it's just... Hey, did you see that weird guy watching us from the corner of the room? That's why I got distracted. I think he's messing with me for taking his seat in the mess hall yesterday.

the two recruits looked at each other with concern written across their faces. Then the taller, blonde guy on the right grabbed my shirt collar and threw me up against the wall, looking mad. Are you losing it, dude? There's nobody here but us. He gestured around the empty room, looking at his body. We should tell the captain, guys got a screw loose. I became immediately defensive, trying to avoid embarrassment.

No, so. Sorry, I'm just tired. I didn't see anybody. I was daydreaming, like I was a Brant said. Sorry, guys, it won't happen again. The two of them walked away, looking over their shoulder and muttering about me. I got the feeling I hadn't convinced them. Over the next few days, a suspicious feeling would grow into a near certainty,

as I kept getting strange looks from almost everyone on board. Maybe I was just getting paranoid. Or maybe it was a lack of sleep from constantly studying and practicing. Or maybe it was those damn never-ending knocking sounds. Whatever it was, I could feel my mind gradually slipping. The noises were keeping me up during every hour I spent in my bunk. It was like whoever was making that sound was doing it intentionally to keep me awake. But that didn't make any sense, since it was a sound made by machinery or pressure or something like.

that. At least, I assumed that's what it was. It was never steady enough to anticipate a rhythm. That was the worst part. It was persistent though, and getting louder all the time. The bunk would be silent for a few minutes, just long enough for me to relax. Then the knocking would start suddenly, loud enough to wake the dead, sounding like whoever was doing it was right beside my ear. Then the hole would start to creak and groan, machinery would click on, and carbon dioxide scrubbers would word to life, and then the knocking would begin again. It was like an unwanted orchestra of ear-splitting sounds every single night. The bags beneath my eyes were turning into full-blown suitcases, growing larger and darker by the day. When I arrived at the

mess hall for breakfast, I saw it was filled to capacity once again. This time I didn't say anything, instead just grabbing a tray and lining up for my meal at the counter. I just hoped by the time I went to sit down, there would be a seat available. The scrambled eggs and bacon sat to my plate looking greasy and unappetizing, the toast not even warm enough to melt the cold lump of butter sitting atop it. Feeling queasy, I turned around. to inspect the room. My vision was blurry from tiredness and I felt dizzy,

like everything was spinning. The constant motion of the sub beneath the water was making me feel sick, the nausea compounded by my total lack of sleep. A pale, sweaty face was staring up at me from one of the tables.

It was him. He was looking right at me, taunting me. He picked up a piece of bacon in his shirt. shiny fingers and crammed it into his greasy mouth, chewing with his mouth open. Smiling at me, his teeth grinding red meat, fat and gristle. He picked up a packet of salt and poured it into his mouth.

Nobody nearby seemed to notice or care. Whatever appetite I had before was suddenly gone, watching his greasy lips smacking up and down. As discreetly as I could, I deposited my food into a nearby trash gun then wandered back towards the bunks. The hair stood up on the back of my neck and I felt like eyes were on me

so I turned to look back. Several people were staring at me their skin pallorous and slimy with moisture. One of them I recognised as a seaman named James. He had been kind to me on the first day I brought the sub introducing himself and show me around. But now his eyes looked cold and angry. I saw a mark on his neck like a vampire bite,

but with three red dots instead of two, in a triangular formation. All I wanted to do was get away. I couldn't deal with what I was seeing. I told myself if I could just sleep, everything would be normal again. So I got into my bunk and closed my eyes, not caring that it wasn't my turn to nap, only knowing that sleep was an imperative.

But it wouldn't come. Instead, I laid awake, listening to those knocking, creaking sounds. They were persistent and man-made in their pattern somehow, like Morse code, or perhaps like an ancient tribal drumbeat, telling a story of a man lost in the wilderness without fire, wondering the dark without light. There was a new sound as well, like fingernails dragging across steel. Getting closer, moving towards me steadily.

I didn't like that new sound one bit. I kept expecting someone to come and wake me up from my unscheduled nap, but nobody did. Instead, I fell into a dreamless, drifting, restful state of unconsciousness. before a loud, bang, startled me up from my bunk. It was dark, and I couldn't tell what time it was. It felt like I had been sleeping for too long, though. However long it had been, it was too long. I got up unshaky, unsteady legs and moved in the darkness towards the door,

silently so that I didn't wake the others in the room who might be sleeping. The sub-grown and creaked as I walked, the blackness of the room total and suffocating. When I opened the door, it should have revealed a brightly lit mess hall, but instead everything was cloaked in that same eerie darkness. Hello? I called out into the black, empty space. No one answered. I tried the light switch, but it didn't work. Getting scared, I went into the bunk room and began to pull open the curtains which closed off each bed. They were all empty. But that was impossible.

We rotated shifts constantly, so someone was always in the bunks. The lights flicked on for a moment and my heart stopped in my chest. As I saw a dark shadow of someone standing at the end of the aisle between the rows of bunks, watching me. And then the lights flickered off again, leaving me with that eerie after-image. Who's there? I asked nervously, but the room was silent and no one answered. Growing increasingly afraid, I edged out of the sleeping quarters and shut the door behind me. The crew mess was dark and silent, but I knew it well enough to find my way through it. Whatever was happening in this area of the submarine, it was probably just this section.

They were doing a drill or something up in the control room probably. Unless there was an accident, unless they abandoned ship without you. No, that was impossible. The narrow staircase which led up to the control room was just ahead, and I felt my way through the cramped room, grabbing onto furniture and stepping carefully past each table. Suddenly, I heard the door of the sleeping quarters opening up behind me. Hello? I creaked open wider, but still, no one answered.

I felt as if eyes were watching me, observing me in the total darkness. I hurried along again, barking my shin on the corner of one booth and crying out in pain, then hobbling along towards the stairs. A rustling sound came after me. They were close and getting closer. Finally, I reached the staircase and started clambering up the steps as quickly as I could, slipping once and banging my knee hard against the steel plank. Scambling up to my feet again, I heard the thing moving behind me

and recognised its gurgling breath. It was the man from the cafeteria. Not a man. something else. His wet, crackling, inhalations were unmistakable. What did you do to them? I screamed, emerging from the stairs and rushing desperately into the control room. Sweat was pouring from my face and my legs were shaking with fear. Just leave me alone! As I said those words, the lights in the control room flickered on, revealing the typical crew in all their usual places. The captain was standing in front of a mind.

monitor, pointing at some object on the radar. But he turned around at the sound of my screaming voice, acting as if the lights had been on the whole time. What is the meaning of this seaman? He asked, approaching me with a scowl. You better have a damn good reason for interrupting attack exercises. It felt as if I were waking up from a dream, but it had all been too real. Sir? Looking back over my shoulder, I saw nothing. No one was pursuing me. I suddenly remembered a nature show I'd seen about octopus, how they can change colours to mimic almost anything.

It allowed them to turn nearly invisible as a defence mechanism. Just like that day when I'd been doing the fire training and the man had appeared out of nowhere, only to disappear again. An octopus could also compress themselves down and could squeeze through almost any opening. Maybe that was how this thing had gotten inside. Was it possible this thing was some sort of half-octopus, half-human hybrid,

a vampiric shape-shifter, turning the crew into more like itself? I remember the three-sided bite on James's neck the day prior and nodded to myself, thinking this was likely the cause But I couldn't tell the captain that, could I? He'd think me insane, just like the other crew members I'd told had thought of me. Taking a deep breath in, I began to speak candidly.

I only had one shot to save the crew, so I had to get this right. I had to convince the captain. It was real, and that I wasn't crazy. Captain, I realised this may sound insane, but I'd be able to convince the captain. believe something has gotten aboard the sub. It isn't human, whatever it is. It can change shape to look like one of us. He can make itself invisible, and it's infecting the crew somehow.

Trust me, I know how this sounds, but this may be a new species, sir. Something never seen before. We need to be careful. The captain looked at me seriously for a moment. A stowaway? Hmm, that's a pickle. I breathed a sigh of relief.

He believed me. Maybe the captain had seen things in his days at sea, things that made no rational sense that would explain. He burst into a belly laugh, and my heart sank. He's really lost to James. Will you get him out of here, please, before he touches something important, put him in the brig. Several others in the control room turned to look at me and stood up in unison.

I saw the three-sided bite marks on their necks. This skin was pallorous and shiny with sweat as they stood and began moving towards me. As their smiles began to widen, they revealed a different alignment of teeth than I had normally seen on a human being. The jaws were now triangular and dominated by three large, needle-sharp teeth, and yet nobody seemed to notice this but me. I turned away and ran, screaming back towards the stairs. There was no way I could go down, back towards that thing. I had to go up. I climbed their level. ladder turning my body to ascend the last ten rungs at the top, then unwinding the hatch.

We had surfaced the day prior, and were now cruising in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. There was a pretty good chance I'd drown out there on my own amidst the massive, pitching waves of the ocean. But I would take that over the conditions inside the sub. Clambering out of the hatch, I jumped off the top of the sub and fell screaming into the freezing waters of the Atlantic, with only a life preserver for support. I'm frankly surprised I even managed to grab one, considering my terrified state. Afraid ship happened upon me, and I was miraculously saved the next morning after a harrowing night at sea, although I'm sure I'll be up for desertion charges when I get home, if I ever go

home. Something tells me, wherever these things are headed. I want to be as far away as possible.