CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Black Site 7" Creepypasta

Episode Date: January 20, 2021

PLEASE CHECK OUT THE AUTHOR'S LATEST BOOK► https://www.breakingrulespublishing.c...MORE BOOKS HERE► https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Erutious: 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"- 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-

I'm in the wind. I'm sure I'll be dead by tomorrow, but I need to let people know this thing is loose. I'm an agent with the United States government, and my station is Black Sight 7. I won't tell you my name. It would probably be useless to you, but this was not how I saw my life going. I spent six years in Iraq, signed up right after high school, and it was nothing like the recruiter told me it would be. I spent eight years in the blistering heat, hauled my fairer. share of comrades out of firefights and saw a lot of hell over there that would make normal people go crazier than I might be. I've had camel spiders calling me while I sleep, what's friends I've known since basic, get decapitated through binoculars, burnt houses full of insurgents and civilians

to rubble, and when I was done, they gave me my papers, thanked me for my service, and sent me home. I know I have no right to complain. Many guys didn't make it back, but home was worse. I'd spent the last eight years in an active combat zone, and now I was just supposed to come home and go back to civilian life. I spent three months home. Two of those months spent in a crappy apartment because my parents couldn't handle the night terrors and the jumpy marine that had come back

before I knew it wasn't going to work. Every car horn, every barking dog, every firework rattling in the street had me reaching for my gun and breaking into a sweat when I couldn't find it. Before T. Chey found me, I was considering suicide.

Then one day, he's just at my door with a big cheesy grin he'd always worn. You look like hell, house, let's get some pancakes, I've got something I want to discuss with you. T.J. was my platoon leader in the sandbox. They called him the comedian, because he was

always smiling, always cracking jokes. He was a functional sociopath. I guess most of us were, but I always admired his ability to laugh in the face of such messed up stuff. T.J. was not his real name, but since he's still in the mess that I've left behind, I figure the best I can do is not remind them that he's why I'm here. He took me out to breakfast, and in the back of a crowded denies, he laid it all out for me. You've got it bad house, he said through a mouthful of pancakes, but that's okay, because good old uncle T.J. has the cure for you.

I've got a new job, familiar work that might interest you. Ever hear of two trees? I had. Two trees was a government institution that, on the surface, did a lot of medical research and clinical trials. Underneath, though, they did wet work, and anyone who was involved in covert ops knew about two trees. We'd worked with them a few times in Iraq, and their guys were spooky, to say the least. You're looking at the new head of BlackSight Seven. I throwed my brow at him. Congratulations.

Should I know what that is? Of course not. It's a closely guided government secret and two trees is paying me a small fortune to keep it that way too. Problem is, I need someone to curate the site for me. Someone with military training, experienced with firearms,

and a need for some normalcy. Know anyone like that? I knew what he was asking, but I didn't think I was who he was looking for. I hadn't found work in the three months I've been back, and most of that was because I couldn't settle into anything. I was constantly jumpy, constantly on edge, and that makes it hard to find work. No one wants you doing security or mining a gas station when every backfiring car was an enemy combatant.

What would happen if I had an episode in a government facility? I shook my head. Thanks, but no thanks. I don't think I'm fit for duty the way I am. Yeah, I thought you might say that. He said, putting a metal tin in front of me. Your medical files read like a benchmark for PTSD. Night terrors, irritability, being on edge.

Those irrational bouts of anger that get you thrown out to your parents' house. He added with a little smirk. I felt offensive. How do you know about that? You'll be surprised what my level of clearance will get you. Your therapist records were about as hard to get as a beer at a gas station. Well, I've got a little present for your house.

Welcome to the rest of your life. He said, indicating the silver case. The case was as big as an altruid's tin. There were no markings, filigree or needless ornament, and a distinctly surgical look. I slid my hand toward it, but it didn't seem to want to touch it. Every sense I had told me to walk away now, not to touch it and just walk away from this unassuming little case. I forced my hand to pop it open instead.

Inside was a pair of pale, grey gel caps. What are these? These are the answers to your prayer. Two of these a day will make you feel this. calm and clear as you did when you were a mere lad of 18. No more jumping in every noise, no more reaching for your gun when a dog barks or a car backfires. Just peace of mind. I imagine now that this is what metastophily sounded like when he spoke to Faust. What's the catch? These pills are only available through the Two Trees Corporation.

Employees who agreed to be part of the clinical trial get them free of charge, but they're only available to employees. He said with a little grin, take them take a day to feel the effects and let me know what you think call me tomorrow and give me your answer enjoy a night of freedom then make a decision i took the pills home with me and after a few hours of staring at them i took them with some vodka the effects were instantaneous if you've never had PTSD then it's hard to explain but it's like having a loose wire that someone fixes and then you go back to the way you were My anxiety melted away, my fear dissipated, my unease and dread were gone, and my anger seemed like a distant memory.

I was sitting in my crappy apartment, surrounded by the trappings of my depression and my anxiety, and suddenly I felt like I had before I boarded the bus in 2003 and headed out to basic training. I was finally comfortable in my own head, and it was like coming back to a comfortable place after years of running from danger. After the first good night's sleep I'd had since shipping out, I called T.J. and told him I was in. One question, I asked. What's in the pills that make them work so well? He was silent for a long minute before saying, You really don't want a know, house. Back your stuff. There'll be a truck to move you to West Virginia in the morning.

And that's how I came to work at Black Sight 7. I must have looked like a junkie by the time I pulled up in front of my nose. new home. I didn't have much. The truck had taken all four boxes into the deep woods as I followed in my old compact. The journey was about 16 hours, and by the time I got there, I started to feel the anxiety creep back in. I became angry at how slow the truck was going, afraid that this whole thing was a trick so they could kill me, and found myself wanting to die when I saw TJ standing at the gates of what looked like an old military checkpoint. He flashed that knowing smile and handed me another silver case.

I dry swallow the pills without a word and felt the inner piece warming back across my brain. Then he showed me to my quarters. It was a little bunk room with a bunk bed, a kitchenette and lockers for clothes. There was a foot locker for my personal stuff

and I was told to keep the space clean. I would be responsible for the site and insecurity. He showed me a little terminal off the bedroom with monitors and camera feeds. The compound had cameras all over the place, but I appear to be the only person actually there. The site is mostly for storage these days, but is what we get up to here at night that may interest you.

That's all you're here. I need someone I can trust to watch the site 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Four times a year, you'll be relieved for a week of R&R somewhere, but other than that, this is your new world. That didn't bother me. I had no problem being alone, but I was curious to what I was doing out here. What am I looking for exactly? T.J. pointed at three buildings on the camera. Keep nosy people out of there.

Lethal force is authorized. And don't ever go in there. I'll have to show you at black citators. He said it with a smile. The smile didn't cross his eyes. Don't worry about being vigilant, though. If anything bigger than a mouse moves out there, the alarms will let you know about it.

He told me that my food will be delivered once a week, mostly MREs, and I could order anything I wanted from the terminal in the living quarter. There was a workout yard near the second building, and I could move through the woods if I chose, as long as I took my phone with me, so I could get alerts from the console. By the way, hand me your phone.

He said, and when I did, he put it in his pocket and handed me another one. That's your new phone. I'll take the keys to your car too, and put the money from it in your account. This is your life now, house. Don't take this job lightly. If you leave the grounds, we'll know. If you try to update social media or try to tell anything on the outside about what you've seen here, we'll know. If you want to marry or feel like you need out, arrangements can be made after your first five-year tour.

As far as anyone is concerned, you no longer exist. Don't be stupid. Put in your five years and will reassess your position. He grinned again and punched me in the arm. Enlighten up, this will be the easiest five years of your life. From that point on, I will. was an employee of two trees. TJ had been right though.

The first five years flew by. I lived in the site, spending my days working out or watching TV, playing the latest video games and watching the newest movies, and guarding this black sight in the middle of the woods. I never tried to get into the warehouses. I had been a soldier long enough to know

to check my curiosity, and the scares were minimal. The food kept coming, the pills that kept me in my right mind kept coming, and it was pretty peaceful. Hall told. The alarms, to my knowledge, only went off three times in that first year, and two of those times it was a deer who had wandered too close. The first time it happened, I had slunked out in a panic, service pistol in hand, and boxers shorts flapping. As I rounded the first warehouse

and drew down on a very surprised doe who darted away before I could draw a bead on her. It was kind of a special moment for me. I had never seen a deer up close, and as it ran away, I was glad I hadn't shot it. The third time, it had been a person. The first person I had seen in three months. I had been sitting at the console one night, watching a Marvel movie when the alarm went off. I paused the movie, expecting to see a deer or a bear in the monitor.

But my eyes went wide when I realized it was a person. He had a crowbar, and he was attempting to pry open the door. He must have come out to the woods because if he had driven up I'd have known about him much sooner. It had been three months since I'd seen a person not since Agent Docherty had come to relieve me for a week of R&R in September

and the idea of seeing a person not connected with two trees made me feel weird. Even when you're on R&R you went to a company resort or a company place full of company people so you didn't get a little too drunk and talk about all the stuff you did for your country. I took my pistol outside and crept up on him in near silence

And my foot came down on an extra crunchy stick He turned his head and noticed me, raising the crowbar as if to attack The gun went off without me having even spoken to him Reflex taken over and dropping the threat before it could become a real danger His left eye popped like an overripe fruit And he fell down on the hard December ground I called T.J and he had some other men in suits come and assess the damage You did just right, House.

He was a threat to the facility and needed to be put down. Don't think for a minute that this reflects Paul, you know. What will you do with him? I asked. DJ smiled. Immediate disposal house. Think you've got the stomach to help us. I found that I did. And once he was doused in gasoline, we set him ablaze on the edge of the property.

They gave me an extra week of R&R. And when I came back, TJ decided that I was worthy of being. brought in on certain things. The alarms went off a week after I came back and I saw T.J. stepping out of a black car and waving at me. I slid my shoulder holster on and went out to meet him.

As I approached the vehicle, two other men in suits were bringing a man with a bag on his head out of the car. He was wearing scrubs, his hands bound behind his back and I could hear him crying beneath the black hoodie wore. I looked between them, waiting for an

explanation and T.J. threw an armour around me and walk me towards a spot where we burn the trespasser. House, I think it's time we'll bring you in on the second reason for this black site. You see, sometimes Tudris has assets that need to be eliminated. The black sites are often used for these purposes, but it's always the responsibility of the site's caretaker to carry out these eliminations. Why wasn't I told about this before? I asked, feeling indignant.

I'm no murderer. Oh, well, those combatants in Iraq will be glad to hear that. weren't they? He said, almost snidly. That was war, T.J., this is murder. Think of this as War II, House.

These people are the enemy, and they need to be eliminated for the good of public safety. It's part of the job house, a part I know first-hand that you're capable of. They put the man on his knees in the middle of the burnt spot,

and he knelt, praying under the hood as we stood around him. Put him down, house. That's an order, T.J. said. I looked at a little. him icily. And, if I won't, the two men with him drew their guns, and T.J. grinned.

Then I'm afraid that these men will have to execute both of you. Come on, House, don't throw this away over some nobody. He's no different than the man outside the warehouse. I wish now that I'd just let them shoot me, but I guess if I had, he'd never know about any of this. Instead, I drew at my gun and put a bullet in his skull, glaring at T.J. as his buddy's putter guns away. You made the right choice house. Who knows, you might not have to do this more than a dozen times in the next four years. I executed an asset a month after that. There were mostly people in scrubs, people in lab coats, doctors, researchers,

people who would likely try to steal from whatever facility they worked at. There were men and women, old men, and scared 20-somethings. I never bothered learn their names. They were just assets to be eliminated. and I became kind of numb to the process. We burned them afterward. Gasoline and fire made it like they were never there and the spot near the edge had a child look to it after a while.

At the end of five years, T.J. came to me and asked if I wanted to re-up. What happens if I walk away? I asked. I was eating dinner when he come by and he sat down to have a plate of fettuccini with me. Given my free time, I had learned to do a good number of things like. couldn't before. I became a pretty good cook, learned to play guitar, read every book on the shelf, and there was a chains route back along with some sculptures I'd made with it. I couldn't say I hadn't enjoyed my time here, the killings aside, but I was curious to know if they'd actually let me leave. You'll be allowed to return to the real world, your bank account fuller and your retirement

substantial. Just watch what you say out there. I'd hate to have to bring you back for your replacement to put a bullet in. I ended up signing up for another five years. I shouldn't have done that. I was eight years deep when they brought the girl in the black bag to me. It was 2 a.m. And I started to think about bed when the alarm went off. I looked with T.J.

But he was not the one who climbed out of the black town car. This guy had his hair slicked back and his suit was an immaculate blue pinstripe. He did not wave at me. and I felt a sense of dread as I grabbed my gun. Somehow, I expected T.J. to be under the bag this time. The man's name was Stein, and he didn't have T.J. under the bag. What he did have was a kid with a thick black hood over their head. I couldn't tell at first if it was a girl or boy.

They were dressed in baggy clothes, Salvation Army rags that a homeless guy would be embarrassed to wear, and they were crying loudly under their hood. Two familiar men had the kid And they looked stoic about the whole matter Stein didn't say anything Just led the procession over to the chart spot And put the kid on their knees

When he made no move to remove the hood I did it myself He wince but didn't stop me This was my place My job and I'd garnered a reputation for being a professional A reputation I was about to ruin The bag came off And the little girl's tear-street face came into view

view in the harsh fluorescence. Her hair was cut short, dirty blonde and hacked pieces, and her face was covered in bruises. Her nose looked broken and her lip was split, the blood trickling like red tears. I sighed, looking at Stein, as the gun stayed at the ready. What the hell is this? Stein looked surprised. It's an asset. T.J. said, you handled these for us. Handled the asset. this is a kid, barely old enough to wipe her own ass. What could you have possibly done? Stein's face was stony. Yours is not to question, soldier.

Liquidate this asset or be liquidated. I looked at the kid, her whole face shaking as the tears and blood fell, and thought about watching a head pop like a grape. This wasn't some scared adults, some stoic old man, some praying woman, or some cursing thing with shallow skin. This was a kid. I had killed many people more in my time here than I ever had during the war, but I was still a professional,

and professionals had standards. No, I said. Stein blinked. What? No, I won't kill a kid. Do it yourself. The two men drew their guns, and I was transported back to the first time. I was standing there, two days after Christmas,

watching T.J. grin and tell me the rules. Now, I was standing there. the woods, the autumn leaves carpting the ground, feeling sure they would soon drink both my blood and the girls. I will give you till the count of three to kill the girl. After that point, you will both be executed. One. The guns were unwavering, but so was my resolve. Two, I closed my eyes, preparing to die. Three. I heard the sound like wet concrete splitting open. It was followed by a high-pitched scream and a pair of bodies hitting the ground.

I opened my eyes and saw Stein running towards the town car, the two men who'd been holding me at gunpoint bleeding out on the ground from large grisly neck wounds. As I watched Stein run, a rust red something snapped out and caught him the back of the neck, dropping him inches from the town car. I looked back in the direction the thing had snapped out from

and saw that the girl was now a mass of red spikes, segmented like spiders. Her face had split long ways, forcing her face into a grizzly sideways more. The area between the teeth glowed deep red, and I could see the eyes of the girl's face blinking erratically. The two hars of a smile grinning at me. I figured for the second time that day that I was going to die, but she scud laugh into the woods instead, walking on a strange spider appendages and she crashed to the trees. I stood there for a few minutes, not quite sure I believed I was.

wasn't dead, and then I started running too. I crashed through the woods for hours, running in no particular direction, sure that at any minute, the creature or a helicopter from two trees would follow me and either rip me apart or blow me away. I had blended off with no wallet, no cell, just my gun and the clothes I've been wearing. Was the phone how they tracked me? T.J. hasn't said much, but, maybe. And the ground went from under me, I felt the air drop out of my lungs. I fell five feet off a mud ledge and skinned my hand. My knees hurt where I landed on them, and I realised pretty quickly that I'd fallen onto a road.

If I thought it might be an illusion, the headlights that pinned me to the ground a moment later left me with little doubt. Thankfully, the truck stopped, and, after a short conversation with the driver, he offered to take me into town. That's how I came to be here, in this dingy hotel that just happens to have a computer in the lobby,

sold the gun for about $500 and I figure I'll disappear soon as soon as I'm done writing this. They know I'm gone by now but I don't know if they think I'm dead or if they think I fled. Either way, they'll find me, I'm sure. I'm more worried about that little girl

that's loose in the woods and whatever it is that's living beneath the surface of her skin. If you see a young girl with short, dirty blonde hair, do not approach her. I don't know if she killed those men to get away, or if she killed him because she wanted to. But she should be considered dangerous if you encounter her in the wild. And if a man from two trees offers you a job,

do not become the curator for Blacksight Seven. The job is definitely not all it appears to be.