CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I delivered pizza to a house I’d never seen. They were wearing my family's faces" Creepypasta

Episode Date: May 11, 2025

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Saint ZanderCreepypastas 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:   / creeps_mcpasta  ►Instagram:   / creepsmcpasta  ►Twitch:   / creepsmcpasta  ►Facebook:   / creepsmcpasta  CREEPYPASTA 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

The rain had been falling hard for most of the evening, hammering the windshield in waves, sweeping sideways when the wind picked up. The wipers couldn't keep up. I kept one hand steady on the wheel, while the other balanced the warm pizza box across my thigh. It had come from one of those new vending machine setups, some gimmicky start-up people had started ordering from. The machines handled everything. order, prep, box and seal.

My eyes bounced between it and the road. I couldn't help wondering what made this so popular. The car jolted hard over a speed bump I hadn't seen in the rain and I felt something slide off my lap. I looked down. One of the slices had slipped halfway out the box and landed right across my thigh. I pulled over and brought it.

the car to a crawl, glancing down again. My shirt was soaked in red. I lifted the slice by the crust, and somehow it looked perfect. Hardly any source was missing from the surface. The rest of it must have been some excess pulling at the bottom of the box. It didn't smell like pizza, though I couldn't tell exactly what the liquid on me smelled like. some weird oil they used the sauce hadn't changed the slice's appearance

I pushed it back in with the others it looked perfect to me so I figured the customers wouldn't complain I wipe my fingers against the side of the seat and closed the box again I pulled up to the curb outside the modest two-story house headlights cutting through the sheets of rain

The windows were fogged from the inside I grabbed the box, stepped out, shielding it from the downpour as best I could and jogged up to the walkway. I rang the bell. A second later, a muffled voice called out from inside. Sweetie, just like we practiced, go get the pizza delivery.

The door clicked open. A little girl stood in the doorway. about seven years old. Her hair was tied in two loose puffs, pulled back evenly. One front tooth was missing. She wore a pink hoodie. She'd scribbled on with permanent marker. My arms went slack.

It was my sister. I stepped back once with an audible gasp, staring. She tilted her head a little and gave me a tiny shrug. Hmm? I blinked. The rain was cold against my collar. My arms moved on their own and passed it over. She took it without question, said thank you with a smile, and shut the door.

I kept standing there, staring at the closed door. That was her. I wasn't imagining it. It wasn't someone who looked similar or reminded me of her. It was her. from the chipped nail polish on her fingers to the way she rocked forward slightly on her toes before closing the door.

I bagged down the steps slowly and got into the car. My hands trembling as they found the steering wheel. The wet fabric of my shirt clung tighter now and I noticed fresh red smears on the upholstery where I'd sat. I stared at the house through the windshield. What the third?

What the hell did I just see? It wasn't a resemblance. That was her. I tried forcing logic back into my head. Maybe she was spending the weekend at a friend's place, and I just delivered to her without either of us registering what was happening. She could have been distracted. Still, she had stared right into my face,

and I saw no familiarity in her eyes. Surely my sister would have recognised me. My brain kept whirring in my head like I'd missed something massive. I gripped the steering wheel harder and muttered to myself. I reached for my phone and dialed my mom. If anyone knew where my sister was, it would be her. It rang, then rang again. I tapped my foot and looked up at the house.

I hung up, then called again. Still, nothing. My leg bounced harder. I felt the web fabric shift under me, sticking to my skin. I leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling of the car, whispering, Come on, pick up. I dropped the phone onto the passenger seat and stared at it, then out the window, then back at the house.

This is insane, I said on. under my breath. I can't believe I'm about to do this. I popped the door and stepped out into the rain. I didn't go straight to the front door. I walked around to the side of the house, following the edge of the hedges until I found a spot where the curtains didn't fully cover the window. My shoes were soaked, every step squished, and the cold water crawled up past my ankles. I just needed to see, just a peek. I leaned in, squinting through the glass. The inside of the window was foggy, but I could still make it out. There, I saw my sister again, sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a book spread out in front of her. But I also noticed. My dad, sitting at the table,

focused on a newspaper. What looked to be my mom? No, what was definitely my mom scrolled on a phone across from him. She was on a phone right now, but she hadn't picked up my call. The TV was on low volume, with some cartoon humming in the background.

I pressed my palm flat against the window and stared harder. That was them. All of them. But it couldn't be. They were supposed to be at home. What were they doing here? And if they weren't my family,

who the hell were they? Was there a doppelganger of me as well? A sound cut through the air so sharp and sudden, I almost fell backward. The dog slammed against the window, snarling, teeth bared. I hadn't even noticed her in the room. But now she was up against the glass, her tail stiff and ears pinned.

I stumbled back, slipping slightly in the wet grass, then turned and ran. I didn't look back until I was in the car, slamming the door shut and locking it. It was our family dog, but I thought she had run away months ago. My chest heaved, my hands trembled on the steering wheel. I drove. The whole way home, I tried talking sense into myself. They're just visiting someone. That's all that is.

I don't know. Maybe I forgot. Maybe they told me and I tuned out. I forced out to laugh. They don't have to tell me everything. I kept talking, but the feeling didn't leave. Something was wrong. Something was deeply, irreversibly.

wrong. As I pulled into the driveway, the streetlights cast long streaks across the wet road. My parents' car was already there, sitting where it always did, angled slightly toward the garage with a front bumper dent I'd seen a thousand times. I sat for a moment, then stepped out into the cold and walked up to the door. The moment I opened it, I saw something that set alarm bells off in my head. My dad's sneakers with the grass stains around the soles. My mom's worn flat and my sister's light of velcroes. I shut the door behind me and called out.

Mom? No answer. Dad, you're home? I swallowed hard and moved deeper into the house. Each step slower than the last. I passed the living room and the kitchen. I turned down the hall and the master bedroom. The door was shut, but I could hear the quiet hum of a space eater coming from inside.

I pushed it open just enough to see through the gap. There were three shapes under the covers, one large figure on the side, another in the middle, and a smaller one near the edge. I shut the door gently. So they'd been here all along, but I'd just seen them. I'd watched them sitting together at the other house. I know I hadn't imagined it. But if it wasn't my family, then who the hell was at the other place? My thoughts scrambled for answers, but every path hit a wall.

Clones, skin walkers, shape-shifters. I wasn't superstitious, but I had read stories. But those were fiction, weren't they? I lay in bed with my eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling fan slowly turning above me. My clothes were still damp with rain and source, and I hadn't changed. I hadn't even turned off the bedroom light. There was no sleep coming. I had so many questions I needed answered.

I tried going. for every detail. I thought maybe I'd exaggerated it. I told myself, people can resemble each other more than you think that my mind had filled in the gaps because I was stressed or overworked. But the more I ran through it,

the more certain I became. I didn't get it wrong. I'd seen my sister. I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was still early, just before five. I got up and grabbed my keys. I needed to see again.

I needed proof. I parked across the street from the house and killed the engine. The windows was still dark. The porch light had shut off with the first rays of sunlight. I reclined slightly in the seat and waited. Minutes passed, maybe more than an hour. Then, the front door was. opened. My mom stepped out first, coat slung over one arm, digging in a purse for keys.

My sister followed behind her, wearing her school uniform. This couldn't be a coincidence now. I was certain. The exact same uniform? No way. They got into their car and I watched as my mother started driving. I didn't even realize I'd started the ignition until I was already following them. I followed them across town, keeping two cars back so I wouldn't be noticed. They pulled into the lot of West Grove Elementary, my sister's school. I recognized a mural on the front wall and the big plastic tiger near the entrance. I parked across the street and watched. My mom stepped out first, guiding my sister with a hand on her back. She adjusted her coat, glanced both ways, and crossed towards the front door.

My sister skipped behind her, bouncing at the sidewalk's edge. They laughed about something before heading through the main entrance. I stayed frozen behind the wheel. My hands were locked around it stiff. This was really happening. I couldn't wait anymore. I got out and crossed the street. The security officer at the door didn't stop me.

I walked through the main entrance and straight toward the front desk. The woman sitting there looked up and offered a polite smile that disappeared as soon as she saw me. Can I help you? She asked, voice cautious. I'm trying to find my mom and sister. They just came in. I saw them walk through the doors. She hesitated, glanced toward the interior hall, then back to me.

There's a parent-student event going on this morning. A lot of families are here right now. Do you know what classroom they were going to? I shook my head. I just... I need to talk to them. I'm sure they're here. I saw them come in.

Her eyes flick down to my shirt. her lips parted like she was about to ask something, then stopped herself. Instead, she pointed to a small cluster of chairs by the entrance. You can sit and wait there if you'd like, I sat. The seat creaked beneath me, and the smell of industrial carpet and disinfectant hit my nose. I rested my arms and my knees and tried to quiet my breathing.

my head ached from how hard I've been clenching my jaw. The woman at the desk glanced at me again, then stood and stepped closer, her voice lower. Sorry to bother you, but what is that on your shirt? I looked down. The red stains were still smeared across the front and sleeves, thicker near the bottom. I'd forgotten all about it.

Pizza sauce, I muttered, had a delivery incident. It's nothing. She nodded, unsure. I leaned back and rubbed my eyes. My thoughts spun without direction. What was the point of all of this? Why were these copies even targeting my family specifically? And more importantly, when was I going to see my own copy?

I was so deep in my train of thought that I hadn't noticed the flood of parents and children that had spilled into the front lobby. I got up in a trance, looking around while tiptoeing, trying to find the two. Then I saw them, my mom guiding my sister by the hand. They were headed for the exit,

her purse over one shoulder. I had to try calling out to them. "'mom!' I shouted. It didn't seem like they heard me, but I couldn't quite tell, because I was interrupted by a hand and landing in my shoulder. You're right, man. I turned to see a security guard standing next to me,

eyes scanning me from head to toe. I yanked my arm free. I'm fine. I just need to talk to them. They didn't hear me. The guard opened his mouth, probably about to suggest I calm down, wait or sign something. I didn't give him the chance. I stormed out the front door. The car had already started moving.

I sprinted across the lot, jumped into mine and cranked the ignition. My tire screeched against the wet road as I pulled out and began tailing them. They pulled into the driveway and parked. I stayed on the opposite side of the street, ducked low behind my steering wheel. My mom stepped out and my sister followed. The front door opened and my dad appeared in his work uniform. I was on the cusp of losing my mind. Every time I tried rationalizing what was happening, I got hit with another slap in the face.

He smiled, walked down the steps, wrapped my mom in a brief hug. kissed the forehead, and knelt and patted the dog barreling out behind him. They all walked inside together. The door shut behind them. I stared at the house with my hands frozen at ten and two. I had seen them. All of them. But me, the sun had begun to dip by the time the front door opened again.

I'd been watching for hours, parked down the street, barely blinking. My legs were sore from sitting. My stomach had long since given up asking for food. They all stepped out of the house together. My mom logged the door behind her, dropped the keys into her purse, and got into the car. They pulled away without a glance behind them.

I waited until they turned the corner. Then I stepped out of my car. I passed the front door and rounded the house. stepping over weeds and bits of rotted mulch. My hand trembled as I reached for the back door. I tried twisting the handle, but it was locked. I stepped back, scanned the area, found a rock near the edge of the fence, and hefted it with both hands.

My breath was fast. I raised it and smashed it through the back window. Glass scattered across the linoonium. I cleared the sharp edges of my forearm, climbed in and landed with a thud in the kitchen. The moment I landed, I heard a growl. She stood at the end of the hallway, ears pulled tight, tail still. Her front paw lifted an inch off the floor, her body's stiff. Hey, I whispered, it's me, you remember me, right?

She growled louder, hackles raised. It's me, girl, it's me. The dog lunged forward, barking with a snarl that echoed down the hallway. I barely managed to raise my arm before she collided with me, her teeth snapping at my forearm. I twisted and shoved with all my weight, throwing her sideways into the wall. She yelped as she hit the ground hard. She didn't move after that, but I checked her chair.

I pushed into the living room and tried to steady my breathing. I moved through the house room by room, turning over drawers, peeling open photo albums and flipping through paperwork. The diplomas were on the wall, their wedding photos sat crooked on the dresser. I opened my sister's closet. Her clothes were exactly as I remembered them. I checked the drawings tape. check the drawings taped to a wall.

In my parents' room, I rifled through the drawers one by one until I hit the one near the bottom. It stuck a little when I pulled it, swollen from humidity. I yanked harder. A stack of old text documents and receipts spilled forward. Beneath them,

wrapped in a hand towel, was a revolver. I unwrapped it and turned it in my hands. The chamber was empty. I had come here unprepared. If I was about to meet a group of skin walkers or monsters, I realized then that I needed a way to defend myself at the very least. I kept searching, and eventually I found a box of rounds beneath a row of passports and family records.

I loaded the cylinder, clicking each bullet into place. Six rounds. I sat on the couch and stared at the hallway where the dog lay. I just wanted to end it. I wanted someone to tell me why this was happening. It was dark by the time their headlights swept across the wall of the living room. I turned every light off. I sat in silence, revolver resting in my lap, heart steady now.

I had been waiting so long that the silence had begun to see. settle around me like furniture. The car door slammed shut, the front door unlocked, swung open, and they entered together, chatting about something casual. Then, they saw the dog. The laughter stopped. My mom dropped her purse. They ran forward, crouching down, reaching for her.

My sister gasped and pressed herself against the wall. That's when I stayed. slipped forward from the hallway. They turned as one. I lifted the revolver and cocked it. They froze. My dad raised his hands slowly. My mom didn't move. My sister stared at me with her eyes wide and wet. I didn't blink. Who are you? We all asked at the same time. I didn't answer, and they didn't either. I waved the gun around.

I asked the questions. I corrected my posture. Why are you copying my family? Still, nothing. I saw you all here, I said. I delivered that stupid pizza here and saw my little sister and my entire family in this home. But I saw them. my family back home, lying in bed.

So who are you, people? Why is there no copy of me? Am I not good enough? My voice cracked at the end, but I swallowed it back. You're not them. My dad started to speak, something low and even. Don't, I said, don't start acting now. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the roll of doth.

duct tape I'd brought from the kitchen drawer. I tossed it across the room. It bounced once, then stopped near my dad's foot. Start tying, all of you. Arms, legs. Don't test me. My sister started crying. My mom didn't move until my dad knelt and began wrapping her wrists,

muttering that everything was going to be fine, that they'd do what I said. He worked quickly. quietly, barely looking up. He bound her ankles next, then moved to my sister, who flinched with every motion. I tied my father's wrists myself. You're coming with me, I said. We're going to see the real ones, the originals.

My dad looked up at me, confusion twisting into fear. I'm going to get my answers. I marched them outside. The street was empty. I had them walk in a line, slow and careful. My finger never left the trigger. I opened the door of the car and shove them into the back seat one at a time. My sister sat in the middle, wedged between them.

The faces were tight with panic. My dad tried whispering something to her. I told him to shut up. I got behind the wheel and started the engine I drove toward my house my fingers tightened on the wheel with every mile

my throat was dry and the weight of the revolver pressed against my thigh I kept my eyes flickering between the road and the mirror we pulled into the driveway my hands were shaking on the wheel slick with sweat even though the night air had turned cold

I left the engine running and stepped out first, keeping the revolver low but steady. Out, I said, voice dry. Come on, let's go. The dad shuffled out of the car slowly. His hands were still taped, arms held away from his sides like he thought any movement might set me off. He looked at the house for a second, then at me. Look, he said, trying to meet my eyes. Please, just think about this.

You don't have to do any of this. This is a mistake. You're confused. I can tell. I didn't say anything. He kept going, breath picking up. You said we are copies, doppelgangers. What if that's not what this is?

What if you just mix something up? We walked toward the front steps. I was right behind. him. Uh, he stuttered. If I'm a copy, what's my name? I stopped walking. The question buzzed in my head, dull and ugly. His name, that should be easy. I'd said it a thousand times. I opened my mouth. Your name is, he defensively raised his arms, awaiting an answer. I raised the gun again. Shut up, just shut up.

You're about to meet them. I led him down the hallway. Every light in the house was off. I didn't bother with the switches. I just, I wanted to get this over with. They're in there, I said, the real ones, you'll see. And when you do, I want to hear you say it. I want you to admit you're a copy.

He didn't speak. I reached for the master bedroom door and pushed it open with a barrel of the gun. It creaked. The air inside was thicker, warmer somehow. My family was still in there, sleeping. I stepped in first and flipped the light switch. And then...

I stopped breathing. The sheets were stained dark, red, splotches soaked through the fabric and crusted around the edges. The man behind me led out a soft, horse sound. Why? He said, voice-breaking. Why are you showing me this? I looked at him.

I didn't speak. I raised the gun and shot him once in the chest. He dropped to his knees, gasping. Then I stepped forward, placed the barrel against his head, and fired again. His body fell sideways under the carpet. I stood there for a while. Still, there was noise in my ears, a fan word above us. I didn't say anything.

I just turned around and walked back toward the door. The rain had returned by the time I stepped back outside. It drifted over the street and soft sheets. thin and consistent, slipping into the collar of my shirt as I crossed the yard. The sidewalk glistened beneath the streetlight, puddles gathering in the same uneven cracks that had always been there. I walked toward the car with a revolver down at my side. When mom sat rigid, mouth sealed beneath the tape, eyes locked on the door of the house.

The sister sat next to her, shoulders. trembling, hands pinned in a lap with a tape still tight across a wrist. The faces were read from crying. They had seen the flashes through the window. They knew. I stood there for a moment. No one said anything. I opened the driver's side door and looked at them. My mom's eyes flicked to mine. Her head shook slightly. Just once. I ran. raised the gun and fired. The bullet struck her just beneath the left eye. Her head jerked back and smacked the seat with a dull thud.

Blood sprayed the inside of the window and rolled in slow streaks down the side of her cheek. My sister screamed against the tape. She writhed sideways, twisting as far as the restraints led her move. Her knees kicked at the dashboard. She tried to turn away. I walked around the car, her eyes met mine through the side window. I opened the passenger door. She tried to speak.

Her voice caught behind the lays of tape and panic. I raised the gun again and fired twice into her chest. Her body slammed back against the seat, then folded sideways. The screams stopped. Blood soaked through a shirt, soaking into the seat below. lower. One of her arms dropped loose at the elbow, limp over the edge of the cushion. I stood there, staring at the mess for a long time. My arm trembled beneath the weight of the gun. I let it drop to my side and stepped back from the car, breathing through my mouth. The rain hadn't let up. I turned

and walked back inside. My shoes left a trail across the tiles in the entryway. The copper smell inside had grown stronger. It crawled into my nose, into my throat and settled there. I sat down on the couch. The revolver clacked as I placed it on the table in front of me. I leaned back and stared at the wall. My hands rested in my lap. I could still feel the recall in my fingers.

Minutes passed, maybe more. and then far off I heard sirens they were coming I looked at the revolver again one shot left