CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I shouldn't have looked through the old family pictures" Creepypasta

Episode Date: April 6, 2022

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by jebstewart: 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"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...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-

I've been with my husband for the better part of 20 years. We dated for 10 of those and have been married for 8, two children accompanying us along the way. I still remember when we first met on a field trip during high school to a zoo which sat outside of our city. He walked around with me for the entire trip as we watched silly monkeys swing from branch to branch and we laughed at the elephant taking a five-minute pee right in front of us.

I recall how beautiful. the cotton candy skies of pinks and blue swirled above our heads on the bus ride home. It was perfect, much like the past 18 years had been. My husband had never gave me any reasons to be suspicious of him, whether that be cheating or something more sinister. No, as I said,

the life we had built together was, for the most part, perfect. Of course, it wasn't without the use. usual relationship problems, like arguing and the occasional disagreements, but we always made it through. Outside of bickering about who has to take the trash out or why the electric bill got paid a day late, we'd never had any major test of our relationship. At least, not until recently, that is. It was just another average day, a warm spring Wednesday, when I noticed the first cracks in my reality. I almost wish I hadn't pulled up the old family pictures to reminisce, to take a stroll down

memory lane. Even if my life, my children and my relationship were a lie, I still enjoyed every second of it. I was sitting at the kitchen table, golden rays of sunlight pouring in from the garden window as they covered us in a blanket of warmth. I sifted through the pictures we'd taken from the polo camera which still sat somewhere tucked away in the house. My youngest daughter, Vyra, sat next to me

as she rummaged through the cardboard box labeled Memories, passing me the stacks of pictures we'd accumulated over the years. Sheesh, Mom, used to be so skinny. Kids never failed to give you their most honest opinion, even if it's a little too truthful. I giggled, try my best to conceal my distaste for a comment. Yeah, yeah, I replied. rolling my eyes and sticking my tongue out at her.

She laughed. As I flipped through the stacks of pictures, most of them being random pictures of her old dog, Ranger. I came across one of my husband, Sam, and I, leaning against an old fence. His long, black hair cascaded down his shoulders in a curly mess. His arm was slung over my shoulder, a big grin on both of our faces. We were so young.

front door squealed open as heavy boots pounded the floor on the way in. It was Sam. His clothes were flecked with dirt and doused with oil from another hard day at the auto body shop. His blonde hair was matted down like a pile of greasy straw. That's when I noticed it for the first time. I looked down at the picture and hopped him several times. The man who stood before me wasn't the one in the picture. It felt like all the air had been violently torn from my lungs. If I could have screamed, I would have. Sam must have noticed my shocked reaction.

He seemed to tense up before snatching the picture from my hands. What are you looking at these for? He said, his brow furrowed. Hell, even the shape of his nose and eyebrows seemed completely off. I wanted to cry. I just wanted to look at some old pictures. I finally croaked out, tripping over my words along the way. Whoever the man that stood before me was,

I didn't want him to see my worry, my anxiety over catching him. How had I not noticed this before? The man gave me an odd look, before looking down at the picture I was still clutching in my hands. His forehead brow eased into a surprised expression, his eyes turning big like silver dollars. Wow, uh, we sure have changed a lot, babe.

He awkwardly laughed before continuing. I'm going to go hit the shower. I'm all sorts of gross. He quickly shuffled out to the kitchen and into the bathroom down the hall. My mind began racing. Who is this man in my home? What had happened to the real Sam?

How had I not noticed this before? All these questions swirled around my brain and converged at the centre, creating a mess of thoughts I couldn't sort out. I brought my shaking hands upward, studying the image once more. Everything was wrong. Sam had long, black, curly hair which hung past his shoulders, a long nose which turned up at the end and thick black eyebrows.

His eyes were big and brown, piercing through me even in the old picture. The man in the kitchen had medium-length blonde hair, a large, wide nose and light, almost transparent eyebrows. Perhaps the most obvious difference of them all was his bright blue eyes. The man also wore a beard, which is thick and full, darker than the rest of the hair on his face and head. There's no way this could be Sam. No one just changes like that. Even if they could, it still doesn't explain his eyes changing into a completely different colour.

I began sifting through more pictures. The next picture I found was of us, a few years later, sitting around a fire and talking to my parents. Sam's hair looked different, like it was still long and black, but this time it was straight. I continued my search for more pictures, adamant to prove that the man in the house wasn't my husband. After a couple of minutes, I managed to find another picture of Sam, by himself this time, sitting on a lawn chair in our front yard drinking a beer. Two things were odd about this. Sam had always been, as far as I can remember, strictly against drinking alcohol. Secondly, his hair in this picture was shorter, a dark brown colour and straight.

Perhaps the most chilling thing, however, were his eyes. Instead of the deep brown colour they'd been in the earlier image, they appeared to be a dark green in this one. The last picture I found was one of Sam and our oldest daughter, Tara, standing in front of a Christmas tree in our living room. This particular one seemed to be from just a few years ago. Tara was no more than eight in this picture. Sam stood. or rather stooped with his arm over Tara's shoulder. They were both smiling.

Sam, in this picture, had even shorter, lighter hair. His eyes were now the same color blue that the man in the kitchen had. I compared the first picture to this one, noting the distinct changes in facial structure between the two. I feel like I'm losing my mind. Are you okay? Vira said, which made me jump. I looked down at the little girl whose eyes were like saucers.

I must have looked crazy, rummaging through the memory box and wildly sifting through its contents. Yeah, yeah, I'm all right, honey. Just wanted to look at as many as I could before I start dinner, I replied, smiling weakly at my daughter. The shower stopped, leaving a deafening silence over the rest of the house. My heart pounded as I gathered the pictures and shoved them into my house. my pocket. Will you clean this up and put them away, please? I instructed Vira, who sighed and groaned in response.

If you do, I let you have an ice cream sandwich after dinner. She seemed to perk up after hearing this, as she haphazily stagged the photos and tossed them back into the box. I was uneasy for the rest of the night, stiffening up every time the strange man would walk by me or pull me in for a hug or kiss. I tried my best to hide my disgust, my fear for whoever this was in our house. The most unnerving thing was watching him interact with my daughters, though they didn't seem to notice anything off.

Weird. Dinner went by without a hitch. However, it wasn't without all goodness on my behalf. Everything and everyone else seemed fine. The kids were happy and the man seemed nice enough. He knew the kid's names and other things only my husband could know. Maybe it was Sam. Maybe I'm just overreacting.

I just don't understand how someone could change so much. The night settled in as darkness consumed the house. Bedtime. I stood in the bathroom douse in my face in cold water, preparing to sleep in bed with a strange man. I decided it was best to study the picture. further tomorrow after he left for work. I didn't want him to find out what I knew. I walked, shuffled stiffly to the door of our bathroom, nervous to open it. The door swung open

before I could touch the handle. Oh, hey, the man said, scratching the back of his head. I got to use the bathroom. You mind? He stepped past me and shot me a look that indicated I should leave. So I did. I jogged as lightly as I could, around the bed, and hopped under the covers of my side. I looked under my pillow, where I hid the pictures when Sam wasn't around, and made sure they were secure in their place. Turning the TV on, I flipped through the channels in an attempt to calm myself down. The door to the bathroom creaked open, and out walked the man. He lazily threw himself under the other side of the bed, groaning as he did so.

If this wasn't my husband, he sure acted comfortable being in bed with me. He slid his hand down his pants and scratched his crotch before letting out a monstrous belch. Sorry, he giggled. What's up with you tonight? He said, turning his gaze to me. I looked everywhere else but his eyes, feeling my face began to burn as I tried to come up with a lie that would satisfy him. I'm fine. Why do you ask?

I managed to get out. The longer I spent around the stranger, the more I wondered how I hadn't noticed this sooner. The more I thought back, trying to recall how long he'd been here, or if this was Sam, how long he looked this way. The fog here my memory seemed to get. On ease coursed through my veins. Oh, well, you've just been distant tonight, he said, his eyes turning to the television. We watched a movie for a while before I finally drifted to sleep, my adrenaline pumping keeping me awake throughout the rest of the night.

I swear I could see him watching me from the corner of my eyes while we watched TV. The night dragged on for eternity. Sometimes I'd watch Sam as he snored in a deep sleep, or I'd turn the TV back on and watched another episode of my favourite series. Eventually, the glimmer of morning sunlight began to be able to. peeking in through the blinds. I was first out of bed that morning, obviously. I made my way to the kitchen and began preparing breakfast, hopeful to get this man out of our

house as soon as I could. I had to get answers. After an hour or so of sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on a cup of coffee, Sam walked into the kitchen, already dressed in his work outfit. Hey babe, I got a call from work, and I got a leave. leave a little early, he said, before kissing my cheek and swiftly walking out of the house. It was like he could read my mind, knowing how badly I wanted him out of the house. I took little time to return to the bedroom, eager to return to my investigation.

I spent most of the morning studying those pictures, try my best to piece it all together. The girls didn't wake up until just before noon, sleeping in as much as possible, or spring break lasted. By the time they emerged from the bedroom, I had already brought out the entire box of pictures, hoping I could add more to the timeline. Instead, I was shocked even further to find that my daughters had changed as well.

Am I going crazy? Tara walked in lethargically into the kitchen, her feet falling like cinder blocks as she went. She just recently started drinking coffee. pouring some of the aromatic substance into a cup before sitting across from me at the table. That's when I noticed. The image I had in front of me was of Tara

from just a couple of years ago. Her hair was almost platinum blonde and wavy, accompanied by a pair of hazel eyes. The girl sitting across from me had deep red hair and dark brown eyes. Her entire facial structure seemed altered as well. Her long, thin nose, now appeared wider and more upturned.

I feel like my entire world is crumbling around me. I squeezed my eyes shut. A ball of emotion had materialized in my throat, and no matter how hard I tried to swallow, it wouldn't go down. I folded my hands and bit down on the knuckle, try my best to stave off the eventual panic attack that was ensuing. It'll be all right, Mom, Tara said.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words were caught in my throat. How did she know? I peered up at the girl and found her smiling coyly, the steam from the mug of coffee distorting her face. I need to use the bathroom, I said, before I abruptly standing up from my chair. I threw all of the pictures back into the box and shoved it across the table. My outburst didn't seem to face Tara in the slightest. The next couple of hours were a blur. I don't really recall much after my interaction with Tara in the kitchen.

My same mind giving way to the worst panic attack I've ever experienced in my life. Questions which no same person should ever have swirled around my mind. Are these people really my family? Is it possible for someone to... Shape-shift? Either way, I had to make a plan soon. Sam would be at home at any moment. I sat in a space between the wall and the toilet,

try my best that calm my nerves. I'll gather my things tomorrow when Sam is gone and leave when the girls aren't around, I thought. That seemed to be the best course of action. The only one. Even if I was losing my mind, I had to get away from the source of it. There's just no way these people are my family.

I cautiously sat up from my spot on the floor and quietly walked over to the door. I held my breath, afraid that making even the faintest noise would result in my sudden death. I had no reason to feel this way, but I just did. I reached for the doorknop,

counting to three in my head. One, two, three small knocks emanated from the other side of the door. My entire body went stiff, my blood ran cold, my hand instinctively recovered, called from the doorway as I stepped backward. Finally, the silence was broken.

Honey, Tara's telling me you don't feel well, the sympathetic yet stern voice called out to me. It was the man masquerading as my husband. I remained still, silent. Please come out, I just want to talk to you. No one's upset. He beckoned to me. I wish I would have stayed held up

in the bathroom. Hell, even calling the police and getting admitted would have been a preferable alternative to what happened after I finally gave in to his pleas. The rest of that afternoon and into the evening went by as normally as it could have. I sat in the kitchen table while my husband prepared dinner. The girls played quietly, remarkably quietly, in the living room close by. I got up from my spot at the table and peered out of the garden window, watching a pair of doves flying circles playing with one another. I wish so badly that I could be one of those birds, so that I could fly freely away from this place.

I feel trapped, as though they would stop me if I attempted to escape. I turned away from the window, from the beautiful creatures which played amongst the nudie green trees to find these people in my home staring at me. The hamburger which sizzled and popped over the flame on the stove was the only thing staving off the silence. The man watched me, studded me, with wide eyes as I folded my arms and backed away. I peered into the living room to find the girls doing the same.

The toys cast aside as they stood and stared holes into me with cold, dead eyes. I... I was just looking at the window. Is everything okay? I stammered, stumbling over my words. They soon returned to what they were doing before, as if their behaviour wasn't completely bizarre. I'm stuck between the anxiety of being the one in the wrong,

worrying that I've truly lost my mind and I'm now throwing in in the face of my perfectly normal family who's trying to help me stay sane. On the other hand, I can't help but feel that my life is in danger, that these people around me aren't who they seem to be, the small, primal piece in the deepest part of my brain screaming at me, to run away. I walked to the kitchen sink, pouring a glass of water

to help soothe my heavy chest and rapid heart rate. That did little to calm me. Dinner is ready, Sam said sternly, emphasizing every syllable in his words. I turned quickly to find my entire. family sitting at the table. The faces contorted and marred with anger. I'm not sure if I was just lost in my own little world at this point, but I swear I didn't hear a single footstep or noise as they all gathered for dinner, which is highly unusual, considering these people are usually

very loud. The rest of the night went on similarly to this. Small, nearly indescribable oddities showing themselves in the form of my family's weird behaviour. Sometimes I'd catch them watching me, all of them watching me, studying me as though I were a lab rat or something. It was deeply unsettling. Finally, the most dreaded time of them all was upon me. Bedtime. I felt a grown sense of sickness take hold in me as the idea of sharing a bed with that man was nearly unimaginable. I feel as though my life is at stake.

if I don't play along with these wicked games that something bad will happen. I crawled underneath the covers and laid in my side away from my husband. I curled my body as tightly into a ball as I could, wishing that I could simply vanish from existence. God would not afford me such a liberty. Sam laid stiffly next to me. He had watched me very carefully with each step I took into the bedroom. I'd been laying there.

in the fetal position for about half an hour, before the silence was finally broken. You're so stupid, you know that, he said. The hate in his voice cut through the air like a knife. My heart started pounding once more. I could hardly breathe. It took you a long time, Cindy, a long time. He laughed, a wheeze of air escaping his throat before continuing.

I didn't think it would take it this long to notice. 18 human years. He clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction, in disappointment at my ignorance. I felt like I'd gone into shock, my voice finally returning to me after a few minutes of silence. What do you mean? I whimpered.

I could feel the weight in the bed shift as he sat up, and even with my back to him, I could feel his eyes scanning over me. You and I both know what I mean. You finally got it. You caught on. Now you know the truth. Or some of it, he replied. My blood ran cold like ice at the last thing he said. What do you mean some of it? Where's the real Sam? I cried out, clenching my eyes shut and gritting my teeth. I am the real Sam. It could be hard to maintain an

appearance over a prolonged amount of time for our species. I couldn't believe what the men was saying to me, You know, I could be anything you want me to be. Anything. I felt sick from his poisonous words, which are becoming more distorted and robotic the longer he spoke. I could feel a distinct wetness

brush up against my arm. I jerked my arm away, but it was no use. What felt like a slimy tentacle had wrapped itself around my bicep and held me firmly in place. I opened my mouth and tried to scream. only for a massive dark hand to clamp tightly over my mouth.

Hey, hey, it's going to be okay, baby, the creature said. His voice was ragged and harsh. Waves of his foul breath invading my nostrils nearly caused me to vomit. I'm going to give you one more chance, either start acting right, or I'll make you act right. It's grip and my arm and mouth eased as I brushed them away, trying to catch my breath. I turned my attention to the side of the bed the creature was on, but nothing. It wasn't there. I'm up here, honey, it bellowed, causing me to jump and peer up at the ceiling.

The creature's arms and legs extended to the corners of the bedroom like a massive daddy long-leg spider. Its body was twisted and knotted, the knobs of its spinal cord protruding from his pale flesh. Various parts of his back and stomach pulsated angrily, as though. it could explode at any moment. The worst part was its head, which was twisted backward, revealing the face of Sam as I had first met him.

I can beat anything, even your worst nightmare, it goggled out, globs of thick spit and fragments of teeth fell from his mouth and down onto me. The disgusting bile which poured onto my skin burnt horribly, causing me to roll out of bed

and onto the floor. I bolted for the door, pumping my legs as quickly as I could. I flung the door open, causing it to crash violently against the wall, before my journey came to a sudden halt. Outside of my bedroom stood our two girls, looking up at me with huge, black chasms where their eyes should have been. A future green substance triggered freely from the exposed socket to the fries. I gagged and pushed forward, shoving the two out of my way.

The front door was just a couple feet away, my one-way ticket to freedom. When I emerged into the outdoors, I was met with a cool drizzle which fell from the black sky. I ran for what felt like hours before I finally collapsed from exhaustion. The last thing I remember was how badly my lungs burned and the putrid smells which still clung to the inside of my nostrils. The events I just detailed for you, happening. over the course of two days about a week and a half ago. I was discovered by a squad car

about three miles outside of the house I'd fled. After a couple hours of questioning, they decided it was best to send me to a psychiatric ward in a larger city neighbouring ours. Obviously telling the officers about my husband turned spider demon

wasn't the best reason for why I was laying in a ditch off the side of the highway. Either way, I'd rather be labelled as a delusely or psychopath, rather than go back to the hellhole I'd escaped. That brings us to the events which transpired this morning. I was lying in a bed. I've got my own room here, when the doctor politely knocked on the door before entering.

He quickly stepped over to the computer, which sat next to a bunch of other machines I wasn't quite sure of. Well, miss, I have some good news and some bad news, he said, turning to me. He was wearing a mask which obscured his face, but his blue eyes seemed haunting, piercing into me. What's that? I said quietly. Well, Cindy, the good news is that you're definitely of sound mind. However, he removed his mask, revealing the horrors which had lurked beneath it. The bad news, for you at least, is that you'll be coming back home.