CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I help out at a local food bank. On Wednesday we had the weirdest donation" Creepypasta

Starting point is 00:00:01 A young woman stood in the doorway, hands cupped, as though protecting a baby bird. She was waiting, it seemed, for an invitation. Hesitance like that is a common sight at the food bank. It's tough for people to ask for help, even when they really need it. It breaks my heart to see how many hang their heads, trying to hide tears of shame when collecting a meager box of supplies to see them through. It's not their fault. The government should do more, starting with knocking off all the poor people are lazy,

Starting point is 00:00:31 trick, especially now, but I digress. The girl was slim, gaunt even, and barely out of her teens. The faded yellow dress she wore hung off her bones, several sizes too big. I doubt it did much to keep a warm and the damp January air. She looked around for a bit, and I did my best to give a space, busying myself by taking inventory. Lots of folk get spooked if you're too keen, and often the courage it takes to walk through the door is brittle. I tried to feign indifference as a kindness. After a minute or so of steady observation,

Starting point is 00:01:08 she appeared in front of the table as I was stacking bags of pasta. I glanced up with a practice smile. Her eyes had a strange, still quality that caught me off guard. I don't remember ever having been looked at like that before. So coolly or so thoroughly. Higher? Suddenly my throat contracted, and I spluttered, seized by wood. violent coughing fit. Sorry about that, I said, patting my chest. Can I help? The girl hadn't moved,

Starting point is 00:01:41 hadn't blinked. Her face impassive and inscrutable as a statue. She simply stood, boring into me with a flat grey eyes. I'm not very good at silence, and to ease the comfort, I fiddled with the string of my hoodie, trying to think of something to say. Thankfully, she spoke before I embarrassed myself by babbling. I have things to give, she said in a steady, measured tone. Great, I gushed, we are grateful for whatever you can spare. I gestured at the table of rice to my right, and we're going to tell her which bits we were typically low on,

Starting point is 00:02:17 tea bags mostly, though stock cubes are always welcome. She raised a hand to stop me, and I did stop, compelled by a gesture. The way she moved was considered, commanding even. It was so peculiar to see authority like that in someone so young, In many ways, she still looked like a child, playing dress up in her mother's clothes. I offer this. She placed a small brass tin about the size of my fist on the table between us. I wasn't sure what to say.

Starting point is 00:02:50 It was tiny, but I didn't want to seem ungrateful, and, after all, every little really does help. Thank you, I said, trying to keep the disappointment from my face. It is for everyone, she said, then turned away, walking back out into the cold, the flimsy cotton dress gently lapping at her calves. I regarded the tin with vague contempt. It looked like the ones old-fashioned pastels came in, and I highly doubted that would be any use to us. Still, not looking a gift horse in the mouth is good advice, and I resolved not to be so dismissive. Perhaps it would be something we could divide between a few boxes, or find a use for it in one of

Starting point is 00:03:33 of the trigger dietary bundles. To say I was astonished when I twisted off the lid would be a phenomenal understatement. Inside the tin on a layer of plush, suedey-looking fabric sat a single sweet, wrapped in bright purple foil. What the? I muttered, tilting it slightly my hand, bemused. I screwed the lid back on and strode across the room, eager to share my peculiar experience with the other volunteers. Mark, come see this, I called on my way over. Mark was the project lead who had recruited me, a perpetually cheerful man in glasses that always seemed to be trying to escape his face.

Starting point is 00:04:14 He held them in place with a well-practice forefinger trotting to my side. What she got, Dee? I handed in the tin without a word. Alice's curiosity had peaked too, and she used the carton of U.H.T. milk in her hand to nudge Mark slightly, angling for a better view. He frowned and turned the tin over, probably looking for an expiry date out of habit,

Starting point is 00:04:37 and gave me an inquiring look. I just shrugged, telling him it was a donation from a walk-in, while I list tutted and went back to her boxes, grumbling softly about people taking the mick. Twisting the lid off just like I had, Mark brought it up to his face and sniffed at the shiny wrapper

Starting point is 00:04:54 like a bespeckled truffle pig. The absurdity of the whole thing tickled me, And I led out a snort when I laughed, about to ask him what he thought we should do with it. A family sheepiously entered the hall, their confusion and worry drawing my attention enough that I abandoned Mark to his investigation and headed over to greet the newcomers with a welcoming smile. I wish I hadn't left him like that. If I'd stayed, it might have worked out differently. We would probably have had a quick giggle and then chucked the wretched thing away. It would have been just a fun of it.

Starting point is 00:05:30 little story to tell each other, an in-joke about the weird woman and a tin. Now, it's so much worse. When I left that afternoon, I'd pretty much forgotten it. The day had been busy, and my mind was already on tomorrow's supermarket delivery. I was completely ignorant of what was coming, of what I had done. When I went in the next day, Mark's car was parked outside. This wasn't unusual. Part of what made him great at the job was his commitment.

Starting point is 00:06:03 And he was often the one first in and last one out. It was strange that he hadn't heard me open the door, though. Normally, I'm greeted by his terrible, if enthusiastic singing, or at least the sound of him faffing about in one room or another before setting up. I figured he must be in the loo or something, and set my stuff down, preparing for the day to start in earnest. After fiddling with my phone and tracking down the sign-in sheet, movement across the room caught my eye.

Starting point is 00:06:30 I hoped Mark had heard me come in and made me a copper, but there was no one there. He wasn't in the room, but something else was moving. A brassy glint danced on the floor, and a sharp whirring noise grew louder. The tin from the day before was spinning, as though someone had twirled it like a coin, between the far tables. I frowned and watched it slow, eventually falling still with a hollow clink. Mark? I called. No reply came, and I felt silly for a long and little.

Starting point is 00:07:03 prickle of fear to creep up my spine. He was probably just mocking about. I still don't know if the thought was genuine or a subconscious effort to soothe myself. Mark, stop buying silly buggers and put the kettle on. There was a shuffling sound from the direction of the kitchen, and I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Ten minutes went by, then 15 and 20. Every so often, I would find my eyes sliding back to the tin. I don't know what I expected. from it, but my nerves were jangled, and I gave it a wide berth as I stomped to the kitchen, annoyed at Mark and myself in equal measure. It was empty, but the whole room was in disarray. Coverage doors were open, coffee granules were spilled all over the countertop, sugar crunched

Starting point is 00:07:53 underfoot. My irritation dissolved into worry, and I shouted for him again. Mark, are you okay? Where are you? Another clang came from the hall, and I headed back to the way I came. There he was finally. I was awash with relief. His back was turned and he was hunched as though looking for something. I assumed he had dropped his classes like always and started to head over to help. Hey. I wanted to ask him what was going on, what had happened in the kitchen. But before I could get the words out, he stood and turned. My hand flew up to cover my mouth on instinct. The man in front of me was indisputably Mark. There could be no doubt, the clothes

Starting point is 00:08:42 were the ones he'd been wearing the day before. But his face, there was something wrong with his face. At first, I thought he might have fallen and injured himself somehow. It was like I could only take in flashes of what I could see,

Starting point is 00:08:56 partial snapshots, like I couldn't process it all at once. His face looked raw, but he wasn't blood or bruising. The colour was all wrong. His mouth was smeared with a deep plum stain spreading out across his cheeks and chin.

Starting point is 00:09:10 I reached a hand out to him, then faltered. The colour wasn't on his skin. It was under it, and it was moving. I could see clearly now, thousands of tiny capillaries writhing around his lips, pulsing with every beat of his heart. My own hand hadn't moved, and I could feel the pressure of it,

Starting point is 00:09:32 grinding flesh against teeth. It took all the strength I had to tear it away and speak. I'm going to call you an ambulance. You'll be... The next part is a blur. I tried to reach for my phone, worried he might be having an allergic reaction. I was scared, not of him, but for him. I should never have turned my back.

Starting point is 00:09:54 My head hit the back of a plastic chair as his weight slammed into me from behind. The impact turned my vision to static, and everything else was just a tangle of limbs and agony. He grabbed me by the temples, kneeling on my thither. eyes, fingers tangled in my hair, and lifted my head to his as I tried to desperately blink away the involuntary stream of tears. I could see him, not clearly, but well enough, as he loomed over me. The wine-colored thread had spread up from the side of his nose, twisting the contours of his face into something monstrous. Their throbbing made me want to wretch, and I clawed at his hands, struggling to free myself. Mark yanked my head back, making me yelp in pain and pulled me closer.

Starting point is 00:10:36 close enough I could see the dilated pupils and the smell of copper tang on his breath. The veins in his face were twitching as though they were alive, some distending to the point of bursting, a few at the corner of his mouth split, spilling thin blackberry icka down his chin. He tilted my head back, pulling at my hair, silent and merciless. Alice burst through the door with armfuls of shopping, walking straight into the chaos. For a second, we were all caught in dumb shock.

Starting point is 00:11:08 Mark and I startled by the noise and Alice trying to make sense of what she saw. It was enough for me though. Mark was distracted and taken advantage. I grabbed the closest thing to hand, smashing it into his distorted mug with all the strength I could muster. The same revolting liquid that had erupted from his skin splattered over me and on the floor behind. But I kept on hitting and screaming until Alice pulled us apart. For the first time she got a good look at his face and gasped in horror as he lolled on his back, barely conscious. I just panted clutching the can of value grapefruit segments to my chest.

Starting point is 00:11:46 While Alice called the paramedics, I caught my breath. The adrenaline combined with the taste of his blood in my mouth made my stomach churn, and I heaved myself up into a more comfortable position in case I needed to be sick. As I shifted my weight, I felt something cold against the heel of my hand. and I flinched. I knew what it was without looking. Mark was still lying prone, seeping dark fluid from his wounds, and Alice was here now. Help was coming.

Starting point is 00:12:17 I was safe. But still, something about this tiny object frightened me. I thought about throwing it across the room. One fierce love to get the wretched thing away, but I couldn't risk Alice picking it up. I didn't want her anywhere near it. hesitantly I closed my fingers around it without braving a glimpse only to snatch my hand back in surprise the lid was off and spread out neatly on the velveteen lining was a square of bright purple foil

Starting point is 00:12:49 something inside me knew mark had opened it even before I touched it even before I noticed the embossing inside the foil he had peeled it apart so perfectly there wasn't even the slightest tear He'd even smooth the creases. The only imperfection left was the word at its centre. The rest of the day is basically blank. I was taken to hospital, that much I know. I have some vague memories of tired voices, warm hands,

Starting point is 00:13:22 and the hem of a yellow dress. Though mostly all I can recall is a muddle of noise and confusion. My injuries were superficial, barring a concussion, but they've kept me in for testing because the doctors don't know what's wrong with Mark. They did what they could, Alice said, but there is something very wrong. He's in a medically induced coma right now, and I can't help but hate myself for it.

Starting point is 00:13:46 I did that. I hurt him, not with a can, but when I left him with that tin. I handed him something evil, and he was corrupted by it. It should have been me. When I woke up this afternoon, the nurse told me I had a visitor. I hadn't been expecting anyone and shrugged in response. you're very lucky to have such nice friends she said pulling the lid from my gift to show me a single perfectly wrapped orb i forced the smile and she natted cheerily about how expensive and fancy it looked i didn't have the strength to argue or explain or even cry i couldn't bring myself to tell her but if she were to look very closely at the gleaming purple wrapper she would find a word etched lightly in its centre a single word a name. She'd only have put it down to my head injury, and I was certain. Hours have passed since then, and I'm mindlessly tracing the new thread of veins

Starting point is 00:14:47 blossoming on my cheeks with my nails, trying hard to ignore the sunlight reflecting of the brass behind me. It won't be long now. I just wanted you to know, wanted someone to know, for mark's sake, as well as mine, that we tried to be good people. He'd want me to reach as many as I can. so you can keep yourself safe. That's why I'm telling you this,

Starting point is 00:15:11 so you can learn from our mistakes, before it's too late. Learn from my mistake, please, refuse whatever the girl in the yellow dress offers you. The skinny girl I thought was strange but harmless, the one I worried for, the bundle of thin bones in thinner clothes,

Starting point is 00:15:28 the one who gave a little would cost us so much. Do not take anything from her. I'm begging you. Her name, is on the foil. Her name is flooding my veins. Her name is killing me slowly. Her name

Starting point is 00:15:44 is pestilence.

CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I help out at a local food bank. On Wednesday we had the weirdest donation" Creepypasta

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