CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Creatures Disguised as Snowmen are Taking Over My Neighbourhood" Creepypasta

Episode Date: December 21, 2021

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The first time I saw the creature was two days ago, on my way into work. It was early morning, around 6 a.m., and I was driving down the street when I saw the strangest looking snowman I'd ever laid eyes on. It was taller than an ordinary snowman, made of four large round boulders of ice instead of the usual three. It had extra arms as well. Six sticks came off from his thorax like giant insect legs. Three sticks on each side, crooked and knobby.

Two more branches were protruding from his face, like walled misshapen mandibles. It had a wicked grin with sharp teeth made of jagged, broken stones. Wow, what kind of creepy-ass latchy kids build a snowman like that? I asked myself aloud, picturing Calvin from Calvin and the Hobbs and his demented snowman escapades. Only this was not funny. It was highly disturbing for some reason I couldn't put my finger on. The effect was terrifying, like a giant insectile snow alien, a totem of ice, made for a malevolent frozen god.

And worse yet, its gaze seemed to follow me as I drove past in the low light of the morning. Surely just my imagination, I told myself, tired eyes and not enough sleep. But still, I glanced in the mirror and swore to see. his head was turned in my direction. When I had been certain it had been facing the other way before. I shuddered involuntarily and continued driving, feeling like a dark cloud was following me for the rest of the day.

On the way home later, I was pleasantly surprised to see the snowman had been taken down. I realized I'd been holding my breath as I turned into the street I lived on, oddly afraid as I approached the house where the snow creature had been constructed. Maybe the kids' parents found the thing as creepy as I did, I thought to myself. Either way, I was glad to see it gone. Continuing down the street to my house, I backed into my driveway. Then looked up and froze when I saw the exact same snowman was now on my neighbour's front lawn across the street. His head turned so it was looking straight at me. Its extra legs and arms appeared to be

waving in the strong winds, making it look animated and alive. I got out of the car, eyeing the snowman across the road suspiciously. Hey Jordan, said a weasley voice to my left as I set my feet down on the slick driveway. Cords off guard, I slipped on the black ice. After pinwheeling and sliding for a few scary moments, I recovered my balance by grabbing onto the hood of the car with both hands. Turning, I looked to see my neighbour, Bill, was standing there on a ladder, putting up Christmas lights and ironed me strangely. I realised I had made a high-bit shout-yelp of fear when he had spoken, right before my awkward little dance on the ice.

You're right? Fine, I said. Just surprised me, that's all. He laughed as if that was the funniest thing in the world. Got a show last night, he said. his words punctuated by the punch of a stable gun into the wood beneath the eaves. Once in a lifetime, if you ask me. Huh? I said, confused.

What show? He laughed again. The northern lights? Didn't you see them? Better than a movie man, I'll tell you. They say that sort of thing doesn't come along very often. Not this far south. I had to get to bed early for work. I must have missed it.

It whistled softly. Oh, that's a tragedy. You won't get a chance like that again. Once in a lifetime. They said so on the local news this morning. I had always found Bill's voice to be slightly annoying, like a weasel or a field rodent of some kind, although it did match his facial features and mannerisms.

He moved quickly and constantly, jumping from project to project as if he didn't have any real job, just housework. His Christmas decorations were already the nicest on the street, and yet he was still putting more lights up. Meanwhile, we'd been too busy to even put up a wreath or a Christmas tree. He had a giant snowblower parked just inside his open garage, which I loved with the passion.

He was out every morning at 6 a.m. using it, even on weekends. His driveway and sidewalk were always immaculate and free of snow. Ours was usually the opposite of that. Hey, Bill. Do you see that snowman across the street? I asked. He turned on the ladder just slightly to look over his shoulder, then went back to stapling.

Thwhack, thwack, thwack. Yeah, it's a snowman, so? I could have sworn, I stopped myself, realizing how crazy it all would sound. What? Nothing. Just had a long day. I must be imagining things.

I'll talk to you, later, Bill. I began walking inside and he called after me. Oh, by the way, don't we get to shovel the walkway on your side. I saw a bylaw officer out earlier. Wouldn't want you to get another ticket like last week.

Sure, thanks Bill, I said, trying to maintain my composure. He'd probably called him himself. After a 12-hour shift, the last thing I wanted to do was go back outside in the cold and shovel the icy walkway under his scrutinizing gaze. Bill always acted friendly, but it was well known he resented

most of the neighbours for various reasons and relentlessly gossiped about everyone. I went inside and found my wife was laying down in bed with a headache. She had left a note out saying she wasn't feeling well and I'd have to make my own dinner. After popping a frozen pizza in the oven, I went out to shovel the sidewalk, spreading salt in the driveway, so it would hope that hopefully melt by morning. As I looked up from my work, I couldn't help but notice the snowman again.

And it was closer this time. Yes, it almost certainly was. Almost at the street now, as if approaching me very softly. I shook my head and finished with shoveling, then returned to the warmth of the indoors. My pizza had been forgotten, and the house was beginning to fill with grayish smoke

and the charcoal smell of cheap burnt pizza dough. After airing out the house, I made a can of beans and toast and went to bed, feeling slightly hungry, my mind running through a strange idea over and over again. The thought seemed ludicrous, far-fetched and bizarre, and yet I couldn't stop circling it.

My dreams that night were terrible, but I forgot almost everything the second I woke up, being left only with the unease of knowing I'd been chased in my sleep by something cold and evil, with too many legs and beady black eyes. For eight hours, I relentlessly slumbered and fought a demon in my dreams, and so when I rolled out of bed, I was still exhausted, and my eyes refused to stay open without a concerted effort. Coffee helped, as it always did,

and I ventured out into cold darkness and scraped off the car for my morning drive to walk. work. Suddenly, I was shocked wide awake when I looked up to see the reflection of the snowman creature from across the street, standing right behind me. My heartbeat was suddenly hammering hard in my chest and I actually dropped the ice scraper from my hand. I turned around and saw the thing had been standing just inches away. Certain that it had not been there a few moments before, I began to feel shaky and sick

with fear. Getting into my car without turning around, I gun the engine, not wanting to break eye contact with a snowman. The black charcoal eyes stared back at me, as the engine began to rev and I drove away, unsure what else to do. Would anyone believe me if I told them? Driving down the street, my rational mind began to make up excuses instantly. You were so tired, you just didn't see it in the dark, my brain told me. Snowman don't move themselves. It's just the local college kids moving it around, playing pranks on the neighbours.

Living snowmen, that's ridiculous. These things don't happen in real life. The day passed quickly while I was at work. We were so busy that I didn't even think about the snowman for most of the day until I was leaving and getting in my car to drive home. I had fully convinced myself at that point. It was all just the kids playing pranks, that I'd just been tired.

and hadn't noticed they moved the snowman into the divide between my house and bills. We live in the semi-houses that are connected together in the middle, so we share this small, narrow lawn between our driveways. I pulled up to our house, the evening light, now completely gone, and replaced by the darkness of night. My stomach was rumbling with hunger after a long day at work, and I began to park. Then I stopped in my tracks.

The snowman had moved again. Now it was right in the driveway, blocking it so I couldn't park. It's just college kids, I told myself, and parked on the street instead. I walked back to the house, feeling uneasy as a snowman glared at me, appraising me as I came closer. The creature's head was lowered like a bull about to charge, and I could barely make out his eyes looking right at me from beneath its brow, hateful and staring.

The effect was terrifying, making him look demonic and malicious somehow. Something else caught my eye. For the first time I had ever seen, Bill's driveway was not perfectly cleared of snow. His sidewalk likewise had a few inches piled up on it. This was very strange, considering how meticulous he was with his household upkeep. There was also something else too. His garage door was slightly ajar And the lights was on inside

There was a sound coming from the interior That I didn't like one bit It was like the sound my cat made When eating wet food Sloppy, snarthing and dribbling I couldn't help it Despite my fear I was overwhelmed to the curiosity

And needed to see what was making that horrible noise It sounded large and inhuman And I needed to know for certain If my suspicions were correct walking past the hideous snowman I pulled open the garage store and gasped horrified at what had been revealed behind it

the usually well-kept garage was in disarray shovels axes and sores have been knocked from their organised places and were strewn everywhere bags of salt and soil had been spilled and the light bulb hanging from the ceiling

was off his axes crooked and flickering and at the centre of all of this was Bill, or at least what remained of him. He had been eviscerated and disemboweled, the top half of his body now completely separated from the legs, his torso were cavity of mangled flesh and ruined organs. Surrounding Bill were several of the snow creatures,

now horizontal and standing on all six legs like giant insects. They were feasting on his viscer and vital organs. They acted like a pack of wolves, tearing him apart and rending flesh from bone, snapping at one another greedly as they fought over the choicest morsels. I saw Bill's eyes were still open, and he was blinking. Somehow alive, despite all of this, his mouth making soft bubbling, gurgling sounds, as blood poured out from between his lips. Then there was a soft crunching noise behind me, and I spun around to see the other snowman creature from outside. He was crawling up behind me like a giant spider, creeping so quietly across the snow, I had barely heard it. It saw me and hissed the warning to the others, who likewise turned and hissed like cats.

They began to skitter across the cement floor towards me, as the other one did the same, even closer to striking. Terrified, I searched the nearby space for a weapon. A snow shovel caught my eye, and I grabbed it and spun with it in my hand. He made contact with the face of the creature, just as it was leaping at my midsection with his branch-like arms outstretched. The feeling was like taking a swing at a brick wall, and the handle rattled and vibrated in my hand painfully after the impact. But it seemed to do the trick. The creature's teeth were crooked, and his head deformed from the blow, and he made a noise like an injured dog as retreated and ran from the house. The other three creatures were momentarily stunned by my attack on their lookout.

But they regained their composure quickly, seeing I was outnumbered. They raced toward me and panicked, throwing the shovel at the one in front like a javelin. The blade of the shovel cut through the creature's face like a knife through butter, exposing its eleanoid brain matter. A fountain of green blood began to splurt like a geyser from his exposed brainstem, and it crumpled dead to the floor. Two of them were left, but I was without a weapon now, and they sensed their opportunity. They moved towards me

And only had a few moments To think of a way to respond They were far too quick to outrun I never make it to my house or my car Then the snowblower caught my eye I remembered when Bill had bought the damn noisy thing He bragged about it for months Showing off its features to anyone who would listen

He was particularly fond of the push-button start mechanism No more pulling a starter cord over and over in the freezing weather Jordan, this baby is top of the line, he told me one day excitedly, demonstrating it for me. With no other options, I grabbed it quickly and pulled out the choke,

then tipped it over and hit the green start button just as the creatures dove at me, the jaws wide open and dripping with blood. I wetched my feet between the base and lifted the snowblower up a few feet into the air with all my effort. The creatures had never encountered anything like a snowblower, I guess, since it caught them completely off guard.

One of them jumped right into it, sending green blood jetting from the top of the machine and spraying it all over me and the ceiling above. I was left with just one of the creatures who no longer seemed to like the odds after having seen me murder three of his friends. It escaped out the carriage door, and I was left alone in the cold, breathing heavily and feeling utterly exhausted. Bill took one last shuddering breath himself, I was completely still after that. I stumbled out of the carriage, feeling like I'd fallen into another world.

I looked around and saw I was alone. Trembling from fear and shaking from the cold, I was about to pull out my phone to call the police. But then I heard the soft crunching sound again, this time, not just from one place, but from all around. Following the sounds, I looked around to see not one, but dozens of the snowman creatures coming from all around, from every direction, drawn in by the calls of their injured comrades, they flooded the street. My house was blocked by one of them, and more moved in from the other side, but the way to my car was still clear.

I ran to it as fast as I could, opening the door and climbing inside quickly. I started it and peeled out of the parking spot, just. as they surrounded my car and began to hammer on the windows, their branch arms squealing and scraping across the glass. Fleeing the neighbourhood, I got to a safe spot and called my wife. There was no answer. The local police weren't picking up either. I'm trying to sort at my thoughts now, trying to figure out what to do next, but it seems like no matter what I do, the outcome will be the same. These things multiply too fast. They're too strong and too quick. I hope my wife is okay.

I'm building up the courage to go back and try find her. I wish more than anything I'd stay to fight, just so I would know she's all right, and so that I could give her this message. Christine, if you're hearing this. Bill said, we can borrow his snow blower.