CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Do You Have Two Small Stitches Behind Your Ear?" Creepypasta

Episode Date: February 5, 2022

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by beardify: 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-

It was good of you to come out, man, Alex said over the foam of his fifth beer. It's been too long. It has been, hasn't it? Alex and I had been best friends in college, but these days we barely saw each other, even though we lived in the same town. There was a long silence. Our eyes drifted to the game on the screen above the bar. Alex scratched at something beneath his ear.

Look, ah, I know I haven't done the best. job of keeping in touch. As Alex muttered, his itching intensified. I don't know what's wrong with me. Hey man, life gets in the way. I understand. I clacked him on the shoulder. No, I mean...

As my friend leaned in close, I noticed his eyes. Bloodshot, an animal wide and marble round. Had I missed it before? I mean... Alex whispered. I don't know what's wrong with me. Some instinct made me want to pull back when Alex moved even closer and lifted his earlobe. He pointed to a little scar, about two inches long and closed with stitches.

Have you seen anything like that before? Did you have an operation or something? I asked, confused. It looks fine. No! Alex pounded the table with his fist and his face screwed up in a mask of anger. I drink sloshed and spilled. I felt the irritated glances of other patrons on the back of my neck. No, that's just it. I woke up and felt this itch. Then I touched this place in my neck

and found this cut, like a surgical cut, and a pair of stitches. Now, I ask you, how could something like that happen without me noticing? Uh. I bought some time with a long sip of beer. No Dear man, that's pretty strange. And that's not all, I exist. I felt off ever since. I wake up sore, but I don't remember any workout, or I try to remember what I did at a certain time of day. Let's say, between six and nine o'clock, and I get nothing.

Or even worse, I get these vague memories that seem like they were pieced together from other ones. They feel fake. They feel implanted. I frowned. My old pal was starting to sound of the guy I passed on my way to work, talking to pigeons in the park. I was afraid for him, but I was also afraid of him. Have you tried seeing a doctor? I ventured. Or maybe a psychologist.

I can't, Alex sighed. I mean, I literally can't. I tried to book an appointment, but when the time comes, I'm not there. I get voicemails from the office saying they'll bill me anyway. The worst part is that sometimes I do remember going, but I know the memory isn't real. That's why I called you. I needed to know that something from my past was actually real. I didn't know what to say to that, and I guess it showed.

You don't believe me, do you? Well, I chose my words carefully. I believe you're going through something, and I believe you need help. Alex rolled his eyes and bunched his hands into fist. Okay, try this then. Walk around the bar, act normal, nothing suspicious. But look at the space just behind people's ears. Then come back and try to tell me that there isn't something seriously wrong here.

If I was going to get help for Alex, I needed to appease him for the moment. So I did what he asked. It's not like I actually expected to find anything. I made a big show of standing up and pretending to search the bar for a friend and as I did, I started to notice. The 30-something woman with a bob cut and hoop earrings, the Mexican bartender bobbing his head to the music while mixing drinks, the trio suits laughing at something on an iPhone.

These, and at least 20 more, had a mark just like Alex's, just behind an earlobe. so fine and well hidden that I'd never have noticed if I wasn't already looking. I circled the bar in a days, counting the scars I saw. What the hell could it mean? As I did, I felt suspicious eyes following me. Was it just me or the ones with the stitches watching my every move, like they knew what I was looking for? Right, Alex asked.

One look and my pale shocked, face must have told him everything he needed to know. He leaned back on his stool, looking tense, but smugly satisfied. Okay, I panted. It was hard to get control of myself. What could be happening here? You tell me, Alex grunted. But I know this much. Once, just once, after the stitches first appeared, I think I came back to my senses when I wasn't supposed to. standing in this hotel lobby that I'd never seen before with a bunch of people I didn't know. They must have realized that something was up, because all their faces snapped towards me. They had this, like, concern look, but it was the same look, the same expression on every face.

That's what freaks me out. And then... Alex shut his eyes tight, like he was afraid of his own words. It's okay, I squeeze on his shoulder. gone. And then, I felt something squirm, inside my neck, deep inside, and the other side of that horrible little cut. I tried to grab it, but it was too deep.

It kept wriggling. I tried to fight it, but it's like it was taking me over again. And the rest of them grabbed me, and everything went black. Alex started hyperventilating. Was it just a light, or could I see something writhing near his throat? it, almost like his intense emotions were making it uncomfortable. There were a lot of whispers and worried looks toward our table, but only the stitched ones who I noticed before watching unblinkingly like hawks.

When I came back, I was sitting on the couch in my living room with a TV on, staring into space. You have no idea how much I grabbed and squeezed and prided myself. I tried to feel that thing again, but... It was gone, back deep inside of me. Alex held out his palms and looked at them helplessly. So, how can I really know? How can I know if I'm me or if I'm it?

Tell me you understand, man. Tell me I haven't lost it. I thought you were crazy, I admitted. Then I indicated the twenty-odd faces staring motionlessly at our table. I don't anymore. A huge shadow fell. over our spilled drinks. The bouncer. They're going to be a problem here, he grunted. I fixated on the stitches behind his ear,

and my blood ran cold. No, I murmured weakly, no problem. The bouncer snorted, hovered for a long moment, then lumbered off. By the time he did though, something had changed. It was Alex's posture. The way he held his beer, his smile, everything just a few seconds had passed but I was convinced that I was no longer looking at the same man huh he laughed gesturing to the screen

did you see that goal nothing in Alex's glazed over eyes gave any indication of the conversation we'd just been having yeah I tried to laugh that's crazy I'm gonna head to the bathroom real quick I stood

and as I did, I noticed that about three other guys stood up with me. I sat back down. They did as well. You okay, man? Alex asked with a wide smile. The Alex, who I remembered, barely gave more than a half smirk, even at the best of times. Yeah, man, I nodded, just tired. Maybe I'll just head home.

I wondered how the hell I was going to get out of that place. If there are enough normal people around, they wouldn't dare to hurt me, right? So soon? Alex scratched my wrist. His smile had become a sneer and his hand was cold. Have another drink. The bartender plunked a murky cocktail down on the table beside me and I felt sure that if I drank it, I'd never be myself again.

With a clumsy swoop in my elbow, I knocked it off the high table. Ah, sorry. Here, I'll order another one. I took advantage of the shattered glass, the slip of the stool. I made for the bar, but at the last second I swerve left and bolted for the door. Hey, the bartender shouted at the music. That guy hasn't paid. The patrons, stitched and unstitched alike, turned to watch the spectacle of my clumsy flight. I ducked under the bouncer's arms, slammed my shoulder into the door.

I was free. until a hand big as a dinner plate closed on my shoulder. Dine and dashes get taken to the back room, he growled breathily into my ear. The giant bouncer twisted my arm until the pain screamed in my brain and burst like bright lights behind my shut tight eyes. It was so intense that I hardly noticed

I was being steered into an alley behind the bar. A rusted door squeaked open at the end of the alley. There was only darkness inside. Three or four figures stood beside it, waiting for what, to give me a little cut and two stitches? I think seeing what awaited me at the end of that alley gave me a burst of adrenaline that allowed me to overcome the pain, dislocate my shoulder and run for my car. I think I must have somehow unlocked my car door and gotten inside without being caught and then driven back to my apartment in a panic. to check something. I think that's what happened.

But I can't be sure. Because I just looked in the mirror and found two little stitches behind my ear.