CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Don't talk to Stranger Tom" Creepypasta

Episode Date: August 10, 2023

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Saturdead: 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"- • "I wasn't careful enough on the deep ... ►"Personal Favourites"- • "I sold my soul for a used dishwasher... ►"Written by me"- • "I've been Blind my Whole Life" Creep... ►"Long Stories"- • Long Stories 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

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on doing to come. Give you self then a boost with Biocure Maxshot Liquid. Three opepend Planta,

magnesium, iceer, an energy booster to make then to come to comellllom to connecton Machshott

Liquid. Fooding Supplement forc by the apotheker. When Sammy got sick, it was like stepping into a dark mirror world. We'd been economically well off, with our two full-time jobs and child-free lifestyle. So to suddenly step down to a single income was a wake-up call. Not to mention how the insurance companies managed the weasel out of paying for more than half of Sammy's treatment.

Disgusting, Sammy swung for the fences. She took it all in stride. We had our ups and downs with every doctor's visit, but we always ended with taking steps back rather than forward. There was always next time, they said, but we figured we were quickly running out of next times. One year down the line, Sammy was on a downward spiral. By then, the catastrophic had turned tragically mundane. I did everything I could to keep a spirit up. But at that point, her light was faded.

We barely spoke anymore. A work friend of mine, Barry, was having a bachelor party. He was pulling out all the stops. I was never planning on going, but Sammy insisted I should. You need to get out of the house for a bit, she smiled. Do something normal for a while. I protested, but seeing a light up for the first, first time in weeks was enough to break my guard.

She was so happy to see that I still had friends out there. How could I say no? I agreed to be the designated driver. I wouldn't be gone for more than a day, and I'd just be a phone call away. Sammy didn't seem to need that kind of reassurance. It was mostly for me. This was in November.

Barry was having a December wedding and wanted all his pals to come along for one big night. Sure, I was just a work friend. But when you're in your mid-thirties, you gotta take what you get, friends-wise. And Barry certainly took what he could, inviting no less than 25 people. So, in mid-November, I packed my bags and stepped on board a party bus heading Franopolis. There were drinks and dinner at the hotel. Then a few hours of losing money on the craps table. I gambled away about $200 at the roulette table,

but magically won about $600 playing blackjack. After months of losing battle after battle, it felt good to finally win. I got to admit, I was getting into it. Not as much as Barry's best man, Jake. the guy wearing goggles who spelled out boobs. But hey, that's hard to top. What a legend.

Once it became apparent that there'd be no need for a designated driver. I just went along with it. Five shots of minch snaps later, I started feeling a bit guilty. I called Sammy, but she laughed it off. It's good to hear you slur, she said. You're a fun drunk. Most of the night went by in a blur. More drinks, some dancing,

lots of cheering for our main man, Barry. Flashing lights, people pulling us back and forth between dance floors, bars and wandering the streets, looking for a taco truck. I clearly remember sitting on a park bench at one point, listening to one of Barry's friends

lecture me about roasted seed snacks. Something about antioxidants and digest. I only remember the noise of it. I ended up back at the hotel. Jake had rented Barry this huge room, and 12 of us had made it all the way there. The after party, and the night was far from over. Because of course, there had to be exotic dancers. I crossed the line by getting completely Bassackwards drunk, but that's a bit of

about as far as I was willing to go. I gently but firmly declined to partake in any dancing. Instead, I retreated to the back of the room and enjoyed a cigar. Not a habit I'm very proud of, but it's one of those things my old man taught me to appreciate. A good cigar, a whiskey on the rocks. Hell, a man might forget his troubles for a while. time after them replaying poursome sugar on me for the sixth time, the party was dying down. Some people were heading back to their rooms. Some did so with the company of a dancer.

It was a wild night, but like most parties, the music dies. And at three in the morning, I was ready to let it. There were only four of us left by then. Barry, Jake, some guy named round. And I, we'd all crashed on a couch, telling stories about our wives, or in Barrie's case, his wife to be. It was a wild party, but it was clear the guy was in love. Gotta respect that, then. A stranger walked in. At least six foot seven, body like a scarecrow, wore all black except for a white shirt.

white hair slicked back and conned. He had the most intense blue eyes I'd ever seen, like he could look straight through me if he wanted to. I see you gentlemen are enjoying yourselves, he smiled. I'm guessing the girls didn't disappoint. They most assuredly did not, pick up Jake, but we're married men here. Oh, I can tell. If it wasn't for the cigars,

all I'd smell in here is virtue. That got a chuckle out of us. Jake introduced him as Tom or stranger Tom. Apparently, he was the kind of guy you'd talk to if you wanted to have a good time anywhere from Passendena to Kent Island. He co-ran several clubs and he was an enthusiastic movie entrepreneur. I only had to see the colour of his business cards. to know exactly what kind of movies he made.

Classy stuff. As we started winding down, our discussion drifted into a more philosophical nature. Barry kept saying how much he hoped this marriage would be the one. Jake was worrying about his youngest kid, not making it through college. Ramsey was on the verge of crying, talking about his sick dog, and me?

Well, I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to think about real life for a while. Stranger Tom took his feet off the coffee table, spilling an ashtray on the floor. He brought out this intricate silver lighter, engraved with a crow and a pair of sunflowers. Let's imagine, if you would, that you could get answers to all those questions, he said. If you could know what things would look like with your wife 20 years down the line, If you could get a hint how to push your boy to the finish line,

or how he could find the right person to help your darling pooch make it just a little longer. Yeah, grinned Barry, finishing the last drop of his drink. That'd be worth something, wouldn't it? Sure would, nodded Jake. Well, how about it then? Tom flicked open his lighter and this steady blue flame shot out. Small, but bright as hell. It didn't flicker.

It'll cost you, but you'll get what you want. Price varies on the scope of the question. Is this like a party trick? Like a Luigi board, chuckled Jake. The guys laughed. I couldn't hold back a snort myself. Weiji board, Ramsey corrected. Luigi is the Mario guy.

Whatever, Tom. Is it like that? Nah, Stranger Tom smiled. I assure you, it ain't nothing like that. His attention turned to me, eyeing me up and down. There was this strange smile on his face, and the man never seemed to blink. Even then, as drunk as I was,

I could tell. He was creepy as hell I'm good I smiled You guys go ahead Surely you want to know something Something good I looked down at my empty glass

Tom was getting on my nerves Playing on the worries of drunk people Is one of the lowest ways to trick someone Out of a cheap buck Reminded me of a televangelist But without the promise of paradise ice. Sure, I nodded. I'm calling you out, Tom. I want you to tell me the color of my lucky boxes, the ones I wore at my wedding. That's it. Fair enough, said Tom. Now, take a good, hard look,

and just tell me one thing. We all focused on the silver lighter with a little blue flame, unflickering, steady like an oil picture. Do you submit? he asked. We did. All happened in an instant. This one loud snap, like the choir of carrots breaking in unison. Jake's right arm fragmented in three places. I could see bone poking out in different directions, breaking through the skin.

Rem's jaw snapped and three teeth rolled out of his mouth, tapping against the side of the table. as they tumbled across the floor. Barry's left legs seemingly exploded, cracking wide open from ankle to hip. And me? A sting on my index finger. Nothing more.

For a second, there were no screams. Just these blank stares as we were drawn into the blue flame. There was no panic, no agony, just realisation. Yes, said Jake in perfect clarity.

Yes, that's how. She's still beautiful, muttered Barry. Remsey tried to talk, but ended up slurring with his broken jaw. Blood mixed spit poured out of the corners of his mouth, along with two more teeth. I sat there, looking at these three broken men, a stranger Tom lit a cigarette. It was like three puppies who had their strange. strings cut, talking out loud like wind-up dolls. Tom held the lighter aloft, keeping the blue flame bright and steady.

He looked me dead in the eye, his smile growing wider. They were red, he said, with little white petals. He closed the lighter, and our collective consciousness went out, along with the blue flame, waking from a dreamless sleep. I remember screaming. It stank of blood, and I could see dark brown spots across the floor in furniture. There were two EMTs giving Barry chest compressions, and someone lifting Jake out of his chair. Ramsey was nowhere to be seen.

It was bright outside. Someone was trying to get me out of my chair. Make room! they yelled. Get out! Is he dead? Oh my god, is he dead? I leaned against an unknown hotel staffer as she held me out of the room. The second I was out, the hangover and chalk buckled me over.

I hurled all over the carpet. The hallways were covered in confused guests as a flurry of people rushed past me. I only caught a glimpse of Barry's arm. It was white as snow. I had nothing but a bruise on my index finger. It was chaos. EMTs running back and forth, screams in the hallway, in the rooms.

Someone just kept yelling, What's wrong with Barry? Over and over again. My heart was beating so fast that I could barely hear it. Stranger Tom had been absolutely right. My lucky boxes were really. red with white petals. I got them for my wedding day,

and they always managed to bring Sammy a smile. They were just this bright reminder of happier days, so of course they were lucky. But I couldn't stop staring at my index finger. I'd asked a small question and paid a small price. Was it that simple? Was it real? Really real?

Barry's fiancée promised to inform us as soon as she heard anything about his condition. One of the other guests offered me a ride home. One by one, we left the town in silence. All the while, I couldn't stop thinking about that tall man with a silver lighter. By the time I got home, Sammy had already heard the news. She hobbled all the way to the front door, almost dropping a cane as she flung herself at me. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling a tinge of ache in my finger.

Thank God you're okay, she sobbed. They said it was an accident. I didn't want to worry her. She had so much on her mind as it was. I don't know, honey. I lied, kissing her head. I was out cold. The next few weeks, I got a lot of updates.

Barry had started to recover. Drake was so messed up, they had to amputate parts of his lower arm, along with two fingers. Ramsey had to drink his dinner for the foreseeable future, but he was doing better. I tried to put it all out of my head. I had more immediate things to deal with, even if that blue flame haunted my nightmares. I sometimes imagined stranger Tom sitting at the edge of the edge of the edge of the in my bed asking me if there was anything I liked to know. And of course there was.

But this madness, there's no such thing as wondering prophets and soothsayers. But when I saw an Instagram post of Ramsey hugging his dog, something ached in my heart. Maybe it was real. Maybe I'd missed a real, actual opportunity. In early December, Sammy took a turn for the worse. Her parents were over every day to help out while I was at work, trying their best to get her to various appointments.

The doctors had all but given up, but were determined to finish the treatment nonetheless. Then came that one day, I'd forgotten about doing laundry and only had a single pair of underwear left. my lucky boxers, red with white petals. Putting them on, even then, brought a smile to Sammy's face. I decided that I wouldn't let the mundane win.

I wouldn't wait for the worst to happen. I took time off work and went to see Jake. Jake was still on sick leave for his broken arm. I met him at a cafe downtown. And we got ourselves a couple of bear claws. Without the boobs glasses, he almost looked like a person. We small talked about Barry and Ramsey and how they were doing better. Jake talked about his arm and how the two of us lived through the wildest nights of our lives.

Then, he took a long look at me. You really do have red boxes with white petals, don't you? he asked. I got a pair, yeah He nodded Taking another sip of his steaming hot coffee He looked at the window with a sigh My boy is doing better He said

Turns out he's got an eye condition Gave him some migraines So he's doing better Night and day Jake smiled It's nothing short of a miracle There was a problem pregnant pause as we just nodded at one another, drinking our coffee.

Finally, I bit the bullet. Jake, I'm gonna need the number to Stranger Tom. Jake tried to help as best as he could, but it turns out it wasn't quite that simple. He'd met Tom through a friend of a friend of a friend. Backtracking wasn't as easy as it seemed. Jake gave me the number. to a guy who worked at the casino we'd been to. That guy, in turn, directed me to a nightclub manager in Halathor.

It took me two days of emailing, texting, messaging, and unwanted calls to finally get to a clear lead. A dancer over in Ferndale told me she could set up a meeting with him for a price. It cost me all my blackjack winnings, but I finally had a time. an address. Some guy who'd won the lottery and rented out a strip joint. Guess who their host was? It was a Friday night when I drove out there. The place was rented out and closed to the public. I slipped the bouncer a hundred dollar bill, named up the dancer I'd talked to and promised I wouldn't cause any trouble. That did the trick. The party was going strong. Explosive music, dim red lights, smoke, champagne and sweat, clinking bottles

accompanied by cheers and groans. Not too different from a certain bachelor party. I could almost feel the champagne bubbles tickle my nose. And there, at the bar, sat none other than stranger Tom. Walking up to him, I felt my heart sink into my stomach. This might be one big hell Mary, or I could be the dumbest man on the entire East Coast. Tom turned in his seat, sliding a shot of whiskey my way. He didn't even look up. I knew you'd be back, he said, throwing me a side eye. You have questions?

Just one. It'll have to wait, he smiled. I got business. He turned to face the party-goers. He raised a glass to them, getting a handful of cheers and return. Tom spoke under his breath, never dropping that unnerving smile.

Clown monkeys. As he turned, those piercing eyes dug deep into me. They seem different now, stronger, angrier. I could have sworn they moved like fire. I don't usually let people ask me twice, he said. Then again, most don't want to. It's important, I said, and I'll pay the price.

Oh, I'm well aware. You've come chasing me down. You've got to be hella desperate. Drink your whiskey. I'm good. I wasn't asking. My heart skipped to beat. I chugged it, letting the liquid fire sink into my throat.

My fingers tingled, and I could imagine the ache of my index finger. Just that tinge of pain with promises of more to come. Stranger Tom turned to face the bartender, ordering himself another shot of whiskey. Who are you? I asked. How do you do what you do? I'm no one. Tom said, Who cares?

So you won't tell me? He held up his glass, letting the liquid reflect off the coloured lights. Suddenly, his silver lighter was on the table. I never saw him reach for it. It just sort of appeared. I come from a land of a watchful red sun. Stranger Tom grinned,

where the snow is feathers and the shores are sick. silver black, where all the flowers have choked to death, turning a sickly blue. He tapped his lighter, like my fire, while Tom slipped from table to table, refilling glasses and lighting cigarettes. I stayed at the bar. After a while, it all looked the same. Men, women, dancing, sitting.

It was all just meat, sweat and fabric. Wedding rings reflecting the burst from the strobe light, memorial tattoos grinding against exposed chests. My phone buzzed, and I knew it was Sammy. I couldn't bring myself to read it. Long past midnight, I'd fallen asleep at the bar. I woke up as one of the girls wished the bartender a good night. Looking up, I saw Tom waving me over.

most of the place had cleared out. Just a handful of guys left. Tom had the seat of honour at the edge of the table. There were traces of questionable powders right next to puddles of spilled mahitos. You think there was... Ever life on Mars? Someone asked. That's messed up right, like, if there was?

Yeah, another agreed. Like, all the way over there? What is that even? Like, what does it mean for us? Stranger Tom gave me a known look. Sounds like you gentlemen are a curious lot, he smiled. Now, let me present a hypothetical. He gave them the same speech as we'd cotton. Made it sound fun, kind of like a drinking game.

Our biggest, deepest questions, all for a spooky little price. A deal with the strip club devil. One guy just asked for the name of whoever stole his pickup. Another tried to be a smart ass, asking for the article number of a replacement drip pan for his fridge. They took turns, asking these inane, childish nonsense questions. And I just sat there, sweating. Then there was this one guy.

This one drunk asshole that chimes in. I want to know what God looks like, he grins. Wouldn't you guys like to know that? That's a big question, nodded stranger Tom. One of the biggest. Yeah, well, I want to know, the guy repeated. Don't you guys want to know? They did.

They all did. I tried to chime in, a word here and there, asking them to reconsider or go back to their earlier questions. Hell, I even tried to suggest calling it a night. But, it was too late, and Tom had already brought out his lighter. His eyes were brighter now, hungrier. He was thriving. I wanted to do something more, something drastic.

If asking what a marriage looks like in 20 years into the future ripped your entire leg open, What does asking for the face of God cost? I made a plan in my head. I was going to head for the bathroom, maybe pull the fire alarm, or maybe get everyone a round of drinks stalling for time. But when I saw Stranger Tom's grinning face looking down on me,

I knew it was too late. Don't you want to ask a question too? He asked. I swallowed my pride, feeling the salt sticked to the side of my throat. It burned worse than the whiskey. I nodded. I want to know how to save my wife. I got a few strange looks from around the table, but Tom just smiled.

That's a big ask, he grinned. A real, real big ask. Can you help? Oh, I can, he nodded. And I'm sure Sammy will be just fine. Looking back at it, I was just too nervous to notice. But I never told him her name. He flicked open his lighter, and it lit the blue flame.

It felt like the bulbs in the room started to dim, like the music faded away. The static buzzing and the overhead speakers grew louder. Then look deep into the flame, gentlemen. Look deep and answer me this. His eyes flickered. The flames didn't. Do you submit?

And they did. I closed my eyes and held my breath, waiting for the pain to come. Seconds passed. Then a whisper. I love this part. The man across from me. Unfurled. That's the best word for it.

Unfurled. From his fingertips and up, the very bones of his body started to come and done, like they were escaping his flesh, turning themselves into needles, puncturing him from the inside out. As his skull fractured, twisting his musculature into a parody of a human smile,

He started barking nonsentical words, something from a dead language long since unheard, all with perfect clarity and pronunciation. As his bones broke apart, smattering like a box of firecrackers, whatever he saw was enough to drive him to an eldritch madness in that last moment, to view the face of God. Yeo, he smiled, Eo, Eo, Eo! Blood and tears streamed down his face.

His neck broke in a snap, along with his spine and hip, twisting his body into an impossible shape. The others panicked. One guy fell backwards out of his chair as his body split open on the floor. Another headed for the emergency exit, but didn't even get halfway before his legs burst like popcorn. corn. Eo, Eo, Eo, they screamed for the last of their wit. One of them crinkled in on himself, like crushing a sheet of paper. One had his ribcage split open, folding him inside out like an empty pocket.

Eo, Eo, Eo. It wasn't a yelp of pain. It was ecstasy. Stranger Tom stood up, soaking it all. in. Without turning his eyes from the chanting mounds of broken men, he spoke out loud. Yours will be worse, he said. They wanted to see something. You, you wanted to save a human life. You know what that's worth, he towered over me, his eyes literally crackling with a blue flame. to preserve the infinite potential of a life,

the immortal form created in the image of those who begun. He laughed like it was the best joke he'd ever heard. He laughed until there were tears streaming down his cheeks. You're going to suffer so many times over. He held up his lighter and put his finger on the lid. Thank you, he smiled. Click, images rushed past me, A beach of silvery black,

White feathers falling from a clear sky, An endless, waveless ocean, And above, A bloodful, lidless eye, Ever peering into the cracks of our being, Bending the world, growing larger in my mind, sucking me into a thoughtless everything.

Eo, Eo, Eo, and at the end of a breath, the answer was clear to me. I'd had the cure all along. A few weeks down the line, Sammy was going to make a miraculous recovery. After a hundred steps backwards, she was finally taking a step forward. It was bound to happen. It was always going to happen. Her hair and smile would grow back,

and by spring she'd be sitting next to me. feeding ducks at the pond. And now, I was going to die for nothing. I came to, being held aloft by stranger Tom. He panted like a hungry dog.

His eyes fully blackened, with blue embers flickering impossibly deep in his skull. His eyes had grown sharp and predatory, revealing a white maggot-like tongue. He sneered with anticipation, staring into me. No, I stammered. No, I, it's not. The last chance of Eo had died, reduced to a single wheezing cough from the final man

with something that could resemble her face. Stranger Tom's smile faded. He turned his head to one side, frowning, you, you're not going to save her, are you? No, she's, she's going to make it on her own. God damn it! He grasped my neck with one hand and threw me to the floor. I tried to fight him off, but it was like pushing on an oak.

I was looking forward to that one. I'm aching for it, he groaned. and I get nothing? Just let... No, he spat. I'm not getting much, but I'm going to savour this. He let me go and stepped back.

A hundred thoughts rushed through my head. Pleading, cursing, crying, screaming. It all just turned into this whining noise, meaning nothing and everything at once. Tom bore down on me. furious, Give me what you owe. Then, a crack and darkness.

People tell me the place went up in flames. I think he set the fire, possibly to cover the tracks. It was easy enough to blame the partygoers. They didn't particularly care for fire safety. I remember swelling smoke moving overhead as someone dragged me by the legs. In that moment, that infinite second between life and death, I could see it.

That big red eye in the sky peering down at us, infinitely far and away and enveloping us at the same time. Eo, Eo, Eo, for those who ask, I was just going to a party I'd been invited to. That's the official story. There was a fire and a beam fell gave me a minor spinal fracture and knocked me out cold for you know that the fracture came long before the fire The most magical irony of this whole story

Was just a few months ago I was in bed Waiting for the pain meds to kick in And Sammy was waiting for me by the door Can't sleep all day she smiled. We've got ducks to feed. I wanted to share this

in the faint hope that it prevents a tragedy to someone somewhere. He's still out there lurking at the edge of parties listening in on drunken songs waiting for his time to strike. When that lapse of judgment

is just right. It really makes sense for the most basic basic advice to help us, even now, to never, ever talk to strangers.