CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I found a disturbing yoga stream. If I stop watching, I can't save her" Creepypasta

Starting point is 00:00:00 From world-wide topmerken to entrepreneurs who net begin, millioner vertrawe on Shopify, Vercoop online, in your winkel, on Instagram, TikTok, and more. Allers from out one platform. Beheer your products, bestellings and betalings

Starting point is 00:00:16 and let me find out of your way. Start today not your gratis proof period on Shopify.b. That is Shopify.b.E. Yoga for one. I found a stream a month ago, during a rare confluence of self-distain and spare time that collided into something

Starting point is 00:00:41 resembling motivation. Tucked between the kickboxing classes and the home gym meateds was her thumbnail. It caught my eye. It was a simple shot of her face, so near to the camera that I could count the freckles.

Starting point is 00:00:57 Her teeth a little too large for her mouth and her nose ever so slightly crooked. I've never been the type of guy to consider yoga, but I tuned in, and in a matter of seconds, I was entranced. The girl was in a living room, a haphazard Misanen, the floor speckled with sad little plants and stacked magazines. She posed with her hands on the floor and her hips thrust in the air. Her butt perched in the centre of the screen. I decided to stay a while. I had no yoga mat, so I laid out a towel.

Starting point is 00:01:36 It was difficult to follow along. She talked, a lot, and only a fraction of it was about the routine. Press your heels together and bend your head to your feet, breathing deeply. My feet smell like peaches and cream today. Makes me want to gobble them up. I love summer peaches. I love biting into them and feeling the juice erupted in my mouth. It reminds me of the time when...

Starting point is 00:01:59 And I fell into the mediter. quagmire woven by her words, inhaling the scent of my own socks, failing to notice she'd moved into a different pose. After a while, my muscles trembled with the effort of supporting my soft body in these unfamiliar positions, so I called it a day. It was then that I noticed it. Viewers, one. That was me.

Starting point is 00:02:28 I was the only one watching. I felt an inexplicable flood of guilt when I closed the browser, like I was abandoning her. I checked back into a channel the next few afternoons. It was the strangest thing. She was always streaming. She was either unaware of my presence or apathetic to it. Her ramblings, so free-willing that they approached random word association, didn't seem to change whether I was there or not.

Starting point is 00:02:58 She was often mid-sentence when I logged in. She was flirty in a way that made it clear she wasn't trying to be, charmingly raw in a tendency to fumble instructions. Curiosity overwhelmed me. I yearned to discover more about this fascinating creature. Her movements drew me in like she was grasping me through the screen. I marvelled at the feeling of being her silent voyer. I developed more comfort with the basic poses, though I still couldn't get my hands anywhere near my toes. Too soon, she notched up the level of difficulty. She eased herself

Starting point is 00:03:37 into the splits. Each leg outstretched, her toes pointed at perfect right angles. I tried my best to replicate the pose, my groin protesting the pressure. Each day, she pushed a little farther. She curved her spine sharply behind her, a graceful arc. She lifted a back leg high into the air at an angle that seemed to wrench her hip out of place. I forced my body into the closest approximations of her geometry that my tendons would allow. My teeth gritted against the sharp warnings issued by my nerves. At night, I dreamed that she was breaking my joints,

Starting point is 00:04:15 cracking my limbs into the clean shapes that she maintained so effortlessly. One day, she twisted her arms so far behind her that I felt sympathetic pain and folded herself up so that her bent legs swooped around her shoulders, touching her toes behind her neck. She smiled at the camera, demurly, politely. You want to see me bend into a pretzel, don't you? she asked. That was the first time. She addressed me. I would forget to eat, and wake up on the couch, having dozed off,

Starting point is 00:04:51 and she would be murmuring about pomegranates while her forehead brushed her knees. Did she sleep? Did she eat? I saw no evidence of it. Every time I moved, my body ate with a memory of being stretched to its limit. I was spending 10, 12, 14 hours a day on a stream. She spoke to me frequently. I know you've been watching me. I think you like watching me. How far do you want me to twist for you? The fluid shifting of a body into vertices and curves and delicate polymers.

Starting point is 00:05:27 guns was hypnotizing. I was getting lost in the light of a flickering flame as it swirled into different patterns. I was working myself into something more pliable, molding myself into something like her image. It's difficult to pinpoint the moment she went too far. It was more like the creep of quicksand than any one single moment. She would lie on her back and lift herself on the palms and soles of her feet, her torso thrusting at the ceiling, like she was something from the exorcist. She would inch her hands and feet closer together, folding her body backwards on itself until she was nearly split in half. And then she would skitter forward until the whites of her eyes flooded the screen, scaring me so much that I'd jumped. And she would laugh,

Starting point is 00:06:15 as if she had made a joke. She would twist her head around like an owl and thrust it between her thighs, always blinking at the screen, always smiling like we were sharing some inside secret, like I was in on the sly conspiracy. She said, you like this, don't you Mr Smith? Am I your foldable pocket toy? Smith is a very common last name. There was a non-zero chance she'd just guessed correctly. But this freaked me out enough to slam the laptop shut, shattering the image of a toothy smile. I had to resume normal life, but I had almost nothing to fill my time except television and social media and filling out applications for jobs I'd never want to work.

Starting point is 00:07:05 A strange sensation tickled at me, like something was wrong, like I was forgetting something, and powerful waves of guilt, the same guilt I'd felt when I closed the stream the first day I'd found her. I tried not to. I really, really tried to stay away. But the urge overwhelmed me. So, I returned. For the first time, she wasn't on screen when I logged in. I peered closer at the scene, seeing the familiar yoga mat on the ground, the coffee table, the magazines. There was a soft noise coming from just off screen, a muffled noise, irregular and halting. A huge. A huge. voice. I turned the volume all the way up and I couldn't tell if it was laughter or crying. Feeling sick I closed the stream this brings us to yesterday. I had spent

Starting point is 00:08:07 countless hours thinking about her, wondering what she was doing, whether she was still telling stories to invisible visit her. I logged in. Her eyes filled the webcams filled a vision so suddenly that I scrambled backwards, and that sound, echoing from the walls of her apartment to mine, and it was now clear that it was the sound of misery. Her moan was wordless, and as her face backed away, I saw why. Her barefoot was stuffed halfway in her mouth, her jaw nearly unhinged and accommodated. The ball wedged between her teeth. tears were streaming down her face

Starting point is 00:08:49 pulling around the corners of her stretched lips her arms were folded behind her head and her other leg was tucked under the first she was struggling and I realised that she was stuck she was trapped in that position a twisted ball of limbs

Starting point is 00:09:07 and strain joints unable to speak I stared slack jawed at the screen and her eyes met mine seeming to blink in recognition The force of her sobs crescendoed. In relief, I wasn't sure. I had no idea what to do.

Starting point is 00:09:26 I didn't know her name or where she lived. I didn't know for sure that she was in the same country. I sat, frozen for long moments, watching the twitching of her limbs as she tried to wrench herself out of the cage her body made. Then it struck me. I could type. Can you type your address?

Starting point is 00:09:46 your address? The message pinged its arrival at her computer, our first real communication. She shook ahead almost imperceptibly, with a slight range of motion her position allowed. I tried again. Can you type with your nose? Her eyes flickered across the page as she read my words. With great effort, she rocked herself over, landing face first on the keyboard. All that was sent was a mess of keystrokes.

Starting point is 00:10:16 My heart pounding, I said, try again. I watched, and she managed to prop herself precariously on one shoulder. Her body was convulsing with the force of her sobs. Eventually, she leaned forward, carefully, delicately, and pressed the tip of her nose to the keys. Three. Yes, that was it. That's great. Give me another number.

Starting point is 00:10:42 We traded for long, suspenseful minutes. her giving me one number or letter at a time, me writing them down and encouraging her as best I could. You're doing great, I'm here with you, help is on the way. She had cobbled together a number in a street. It had taken us nearly an hour to get to this point. She had just finished typing Apartment 12 when she stopped, trembling with the effort of keeping herself upright

Starting point is 00:11:09 and we met eyes again through the camera, hers shining with pain and fear. And then she collapsed. She rolled out of sight. Panicking, I sent dozens of frantic messages. What city, what state? Stay with me, I'm here. Where are you?

Starting point is 00:11:28 I need more. It became clear. No one was coming. Her sobs stilled. Her breath quieted. I searched the address and found every city in the country where the address she had given me existed. I called every police station in every jurisdiction within range.

Starting point is 00:11:46 It took a lot of explanation, but after hours of work, there was nothing I could do but sit and wait nervously by the phone and stare at the empty apartment framed within my laptop screen. All I could do was type. I'm here with you. You'll be safe. This will be over soon. You're not alone. The ringing of the phone nearly sent me out of my skin. It was one in the morning. Did you find her? I asked desperately, scanning the scene for any sign of activity. Tell me she's all right.

Starting point is 00:12:25 The voice on the other end of the line sighed, a deep sigh of sadness or frustration, I couldn't say. We found her, he said. His words gentle but guarded. Stuck in that position, as you described. She's not okay. She died of dehydration. She... What? No, that's not possible. I just spoke to her.

Starting point is 00:12:53 I don't know what you saw, son. I truly don't. But the girl we found has been dead for months.

CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I found a disturbing yoga stream. If I stop watching, I can't save her" Creepypasta

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