CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I Hunt Skin-Walkers For a Living" Creepypasta

Episode Date: May 11, 2020

I wouldn't recommend this career path. CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Frequent-Cat: 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...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-

The festival season is Aangbroken and that betekent mudder. And so, ging Kim to Amazon.com. com. On the look to a waterdict tent,

a comfortable luget, oh, so, knus, and Lupeart print regalarze. Miao. Now, he has Kim not for the

modder, just like that's the moddermann there, oh, wait just even, has he now

only modder on? Oh, yeah, only mudder. Drove? BROGb. Goar for. Find what you

need you need For the public, my contact details aren't available. If they were, I'm sure I'd be hit up with many false calls, both on purpose and accidental. My number is reserved for the higher-ups who pieced together if my service is needed, and last night, it was. Publicly, there are a number of disappearances reported around a little hiking trail in Utah. A terrible thing, but not too uncommon.

However, on the social media of the recently missing family and friends, there were some statuses that caught my higher-ups attention. Some of them posted that during a memorial at the edge of the trails, they felt they could hear their dearly beloved voice calling to them from the thick of the woods. Though they took this as a sign from God and hoped that this meant the missing would return, the people managing their personal pages felt otherwise. And that's where I came in. Skin walkers are dangerous.

In terms of raw strength, they outmatch us in almost every way. But it's their cunning that truly makes them the apex predator they are. I was called in to investigate as soon as I could. When I arrived, the police were there, the colourful lights bouncing around like a rave show. Leaning against the cars were a number of beat cops, sent there for the satisfaction of the locals that something was being done. I could tell the head of disdain the moment I approached

As this meant their quiet night of falling around Was to be disturbed with actual work Trials closed One said I turned a finality to the words I was called in to investigate I shot back That's our job

Little Sandal things here You can just go home He replied The exasperation in his tone told me He wanted me to just leave I'm afraid I can't Can't do that, I sighed. With that, he just stared at me.

I could see the gears grinding in his head, along with his teeth. He gestured for me to join the rest of them, and I informed them of everything I was legally allowed to divulge, that I was sent there from higher orders, and they were to let me do my job. However, a hedge I always run into is verifying the authority. You see, the paperwork I come in with always has no contact information. for obvious reason, but this means I'm always faced with scepticism. In the end, I was met with a compromise.

I could go in, but I was to take one of them as a partner to keep an eye on me, and my gun was to be confiscated. I begrudgingly agreed, knowing this was the best I was going to get if I wanted to go in that night. I was left to go into the thick of the woods with my new partner in crime, Austin. If I thought the guys back of the cars were begrudging and talking to me, Austin was practically dragging his heels. It seemed obvious that he had the lowest seniority, as he never even had a chance to protest about this arrangement. How long are we going to be out here? he groaned. As long as we need to, I said back, quieter than him.

We've searched the trails a dozen times over. You're not going to find anything, he protested. You don't know what I'm looking for, I shirk back, still at a lower tone. What are you looking for, then? He whined, his voice carrying through the trees. With the way things were going, anything within a mile was going to hear us clearly. He had no tact for being inconspicuous, but I knew asking him to be quiet would be met with more questions.

So instead, I tried a different approach. Have you heard of Skinwalkers? I asked him, breaking him out of his interrogation. Of course, there are a popular legend around these parts. They're often told to warn hikers not to wander too far. Do you know where they came from? Old native legends. Trying to scare me or something?

Correct. The legend stems more specifically from the Navajo, a southwestern Native American tribe. I shot back, ignoring his question. He scoffed at this, seemingly not wanting to hear more. But I continued. In the Navajo language, the word skin walker is Yinaguchiai and translates to He who walks on all fours.

He grunted at my ignorance of his hints for me to shut up. However, when I talked, he didn't. And I spoke in a much softer tone than he did. I knew he needed stimulation to stop moaning. He was obviously bored and uninterested. so I decided to keep him distracted with the tail. I used to walk some of these trails when I was younger. I grew up rural, so hiking was the number one pastime for a lot of my friends and I.

I started. Yeah, yeah, a lot of people did. Some pretty popular walks around these parts. He'd be mused, not yet interested in my words. Well, this carried over to my adult life. When the stresses my job got me down, I'd take to the trails and woods to car myself. It was my form of meditation. You'll be surprised the amount of kind spirits you can bump into when in nature.

It seems to bring out the best in people. There must be what she saw in me. I met her during a walk. Nothing grand, just doing what everyone else takes for granted in a densely wooded area, and she was jogging the same trail. We stuck together for the rest of the way, and we were inseparable ever since. Two years later, I called Regina, my wife. Mm-hmm.

Austin groaned, still not pulled in, but was now at least quiet. When we had a kid, Davis, I passed down this love for nature to him. He caught the bug as hard as I did his age, and we bonded as a family during our outings. We knew the land well, too well, so we decided to trail off to a lesser walked area. Our sense of adventure was at full swing. We knew we were more than experienced enough to look after ourselves. We had many tools to help us if we fell too far from society, but getting lost wasn't our downfall. I carried on.

At that statement, Austin's brow furrowed. Now I knew I had his attention. Though he didn't say anything, I felt he wanted me to go on. We set up camp. It was quiet. a serene peace at first, but it was because of that solitude that the sound of a twig snap pulled us from our trance. The more creaks and crunches we heard, the more we realized how unnatural the silence was.

It was an overbearing pressure that was only broken by the slowly approaching snaps of sound. The closest we heard it was the perimeter of our camp, and it stopped. We eventually settled down, but we never lost the feeling of being what. I could hear the breaths through Austin's nose, whether it was from exertion or anticipation of the story, he would probably never tell me the truth. The day after, things felt tense. We carried on with her excursion, but our backs always felt prickled with the feelings of tension. It only took one lapse of judgment, and it was ironically when nature called.

My son, Davis, just wanted to go potty. He told us he needed to go before sleep, so we let him out, autopilot in full swing, after a heavy set of mental fatigue. It didn't take long for us to realise our error, but that was all it took. We slipped out our tent and cautiously made our way to our designated toilet area, and Regina quietly called out for Davis. He didn't answer. All that could be heard was our increasing breathing as panic started to set.

But, though he was quickly broken by a meek voice calling out, I paused purposefully. I could feel Austin's gaze on me as he waited for more, something I withheld. Eventually, he burst out saying, What happened next? Seemingly out of impulse. I smiled, lavishing his attention and carried on.

It's okay, Regina, I'm right here, Davis exclaimed jovially, as he slowly stepped. into the half-light of the campfire. Thank God, Regina soothed, rushing over to scoop him up in her arms. By the time I realized what jarred me. It was too late.

What fun I was having, scaring this fully grown man, was gone by this point. This is the part of the story I hated telling the most. I didn't even wait for a response before going on. Davis's arm shot out,

sharper than they had any right to be. and pulled her torso first into the darkness behind. Watching this, I froze. The words Davis spoke ringing in my head. Davis never called us by our names. I was kicking myself that I should have known sooner. I gritted my teeth. Even though I told this story many times before,

to prepare people for what may come, it never got easier to tell. Still, I felt obliged to finish my story. I wanted to go after them. I wanted to rush in and pull them from the brink of wherever they were. They supported this idea. Regina and Davis whining out for me to come to them, to save them, to join them.

But their cadence was off, their emotions absent. I knew it was a trap. So I just dropped down and wet. All that lay after I finished the tale was silence. Austin's pace slowed as his mind deliberated on the information I spoon fed him

I could practically see the cogs turning in his head while he weighed the words I said on his scales of skepticism Another toll on his mind was that I distracted him enough To the point we were far Into the appointed trail

I was to investigate When I figured he'd reach an acceptance That he was stuck with me I started asking questions about the case I asked about the victims where they went missing when it happened what's been found

I got him to put park marks on my map and that gave me some set areas to search and search we did to the moans and complaints of Austin for two hours I did my best to ignore him

and was quite casual in my work until I found something small and white poking from the ground quite a ways away from the trail a small piece of bone. I immediately hushed him in a serious tone, and he took note, a reaction that was seemingly instilled by the mood I said earlier.

I inspected it carefully, trying to figure out his origins. The serious look on Austin's face washed away immediately when he saw what I was looking at. You got worked up over that, a piece of chicken bone? I ignored him while I surveyed the ground for more. He sighed and resigned himself to just stand there, but I had a new objective, follow the trail of bone fragments. There were more scattered in one particular direction, and if I was careful and observant, I would find another piece, then another, then another. Eventually I found its origin, a body. However, it was not recently departed.

The body before me, clad in torn, colourful ribbons of hiking gear, had been there for a number of months, maybe years, old and decayed. The cop turned his head at this. Great, more paperwork he must have been thinking. Finding a body this old is nothing but a headache for authorities. A cold investigation of wasted time lay before his feet. But I could recognise the work of a skinwalker anywhere. Knowing Austin would not take what I told him 100% seriously.

I gave him the most simplest of instructions. Austin, I wanted to keep a lookout for something that looks like a hollowed out dog. Can you do that for me? Sure, whatever, he sighed in acceptance. I took to investigating the body closer. The skin being removed completely was the first thing I noticed. But when I expected the bones, I noticed they had been scrubbed. scraped away, not gnawed or chewed, but scraped.

Oh no, I thought. Quick, I yelled to Austin as I reached into my pack. Put this on. I held out a mask, similar to the one I was putting on myself at the same time. I was obviously met with apprehension, but my tone got to him, on top of my own urgent actions, and he followed suit. And just in time too, as an ominous, obsidian cloud blowing around us.

I forcefully covered my face in reaction. What is this? Austin blurted, muffled by the mask. Though I could tell he wouldn't believe me, I told him that Skinwalkers make poisons from bodies. I knew he denied the part about the Skinwalker, but he couldn't deny the danger around him. My hand slipped behind me, and I pulled out my small blade, a needle-thin, steak-like dagger.

A crisp sheen flickered from its polished silver metal. I squinted over to see Austin withdraw his pistol. I knew it wouldn't work. However, I didn't want to discourage him, since I knew it'd still help as a distraction at best. What I also saw was that he didn't cover his face when the cloud blew in. Something I felt I shouldn't have had to tell him, but he didn't figure out in time.

He was screaming in pain, rubbing the dust from his eyes, only making it worse since his arms and hands must have been coated by now. Before I had a chance to help him, he darted away, trying to get out the cloud.

A rocky mistake. I left after him at a more cautious pace. I eased my way to where he went, following his panic shouting. The juxtaposition of not believing what I told him to being attacked

seemed to have sent him in a bit of a frenzy. though his skepticism was still apparent as he called out to his assailant like they were a human. Give yourself up and you'll be shown proper treatment, he screamed, a terrible bluff. I got him, over here, I heard me say, which flipped his mood immediately. Thank God, they're going to pay for this, he said threateningly through a grin and shot off towards my voice. Except it wasn't me who said that. I didn't get a chance to stop him, before I heard him jump into a nearby bush, followed by horrific screaming. It echoed around and faded away at frightening speed, further into the wooded area away from where I was,

trying to avoid me coming in to help. At that, I stood up, sighed, while stretching my aching limbs from all that sneaking, and got to work. Knowing I wouldn't be disturbed, I casually made my way around. and set up wards all around the main trail. I saw some side trails, but ignored those. The cheapskates only paid for the main trail, so they only get the main trail. When I made my way to the edge of the trail,

ready to call it quits, I saw them. Two familiar figures, with fresh smears of red on their faces and hands. My fist clench at the sight of them. They don't have to do any threatening movement, to provoke me, because they know how to get to me. After all these years, they consistently taunt me with the skins of Regina and Davis, tattered

and barely held together. But I recognized them regardless. It was dawned by the time I was done. I emerged from the trail and met the other police officers from before. They had less energy to challenge me this time, as they seemed tired from their long night of escapades. I told them I was done and grabbed my stuff. They asked where Austin was, and I told them he said he'd head back to meet them not long ago in an innocent tone, acting oblivious to everything that went down. I used their confusion as a chance to slip away

and headed back. I informed the higher-ups that there shouldn't be a problem at that specific trail anymore, and that I'm open for any more work they send my way. But I didn't tell the gritty details. That's the secret with my job. 99% of the time, the Skinwalker never gets killed. I mean, they're damn near impossible to kill. You either have to burn their hidden skin, which they make damn well impossible to find.

Whisper their original human name that's often lost to the ethers of time, or somehow overpower them and tried to kill them with silver, which I mean, good luck with that if you want to try. I've been around so long because I've been smart. I just work on cutting down their hunting grounds one trail at a time.