CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I uncovered something serious on Hart Island. Please tell the media" Creepypasta

Episode Date: November 12, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by urbexmachina: 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...CREEPY THUMBNAIL ART BY►cenay oekmen: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/0n...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-

They warn me not to write this post, but I have evidence, and I can't live with myself knowing about this and not exposing it. I'll upload proof in an edit as soon as I'm done posting. If you know any reporters, please send this to them. Okay. I'm an urban explorer in New York City. I'm just getting my Reddit started, trying to build an audience, etc. And a few of you know I went to Heart Island last week.

That's the tiny scrap of land in the East River that was a prison camp during the Civil War. Then a psychiatric institution. Then a TB sanitarium. Now a mass grave for poor people. You get it. The island is mostly abandoned now. So, I went out there. There was supposed to be like a million bodies buried there.

So they would get me views. It's close. It's creepy. and I assumed it would be empty. It's run by the Department of Corrections, but after asking around, I got a few DMs saying it's pretty easy to avoid them if you stick to the buildings and stay away from the mass graves.

At first, things seem fine, you know. I was supposed to be getting the creep out vibes, but Heart Island is actually kind of a beautiful place. It's mostly nature now, a lot of trees. Half the buildings that are still standing. are the kind of old, whether charming and rustic, so I checked some of those out and took some picks. Then I heard a helicopter closing in overhead

and saw a black SUV winding up the road in the distance. At first I was just like, ah damn, it's security, so I ducked inside the building and took cover. But as I kept track of the helicopter through a window, it got lower and lower and lower, It wasn't just surveying the island. It landed just over the hill next to me.

The SUV was also closing in, but the people in the car didn't look like cops. It was like a bunch of laughing women in fancy dresses. For the life of me, it looked like they were going to a party. I looked around. Where the hell had they come from? Were they already on the island this whole time? This thing is only like a third of a square mile, and there's no bridge to it. And where were they going?

I wondered if it was some thrill-seeking billionaire trying to impress his friends, or one of those high-end theme parties you hear about. They drove right past me and over the hill. Then another helicopter came and landed, and another and another. I decided to check it out. That was a bad call. So, I stayed inside the tree line, trying to keep hidden.

But I started following the car over the ridge. Over the hill was a squat grey building. My stomach kind of churned when I looked at it. It just looked like a sanitarium or a hospital, or an asylum, something, possibly a prison. But there were all these people milling around outside of it. Cars, helicopters, plural, all disgorging men in black suits, and women in cocktail dresses, like it was the damn Metcgada or something.

Then I started inching in closer. Open exploring doesn't normally involve sneaking up on people, but I noticed that no one was hanging around the back of the building. Just caterers coming in and out, most of them not in uniform, just white aprons, which was perfect. Maybe I could blend in there.

I went around the back and crept as close as I dared, By now, the stream of Cateras were starting to trickle off. Whatever it was was about to start. I waited for the last Catera to disappear and prayed they wouldn't lock the door behind them. I got lucky. The creak of the rusty door seemed like the loudest noise I'd ever heard as I pulled it open. This place clearly was not built for luxury, which just piqued my interest further about what in God's name all these people were doing here.

My heart pounded as I wove to the kitchen. It was dark, but definitely inactive use. Filled with pots and pans, delicious smells bubbling up from them. I started down the hallway. It was way too narrow. There was nowhere to hide if I needed it. I crept through dozens of buildings, older and emptier than this one. But this was worse.

I'd never broken and entered anywhere in inhabited before. Pretty soon, Asher Whispers came to me. Men and women, low voices, excited. Small talk. Some of them, the younger ones were giggling. Some of the older people sounded very serious, worried. Like at any party where some people have business and others just the gossip, I guess. But I kept hearing the word, Skinner, which was weird.

The Skinner situation, the Skinner incident, what happened in Skinner? Is skinner a place? If that means anything to anybody, let me know. I was actually in a pretty good spot for stealthy eavesdropping until something ran up the leg of my pants. I managed to muffle my scream, but I did not contain the flailing. I stumbled forward directly into the open doorway. A terrified mouse flew off of me and screwed away.

A hush fell over the entire room when I stumbled in. This was a massive room, with rust-coloured cracks running through the yellowing paint. But it was made up to look like a giant party atrium, with tables of snacks lining one wall and damp balloons hanging from the ceiling. What the hell? About 200 people wearing Prada and Gucci stared at me, and I stared back at them. An older woman in a cocktail dress took a step towards me.

Um, hello, the woman smiled. mild, uncertainly, nervously. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Are you with a gardening staff? Hallelujah. Yes, ma'am. I looked down apologetically. Maybe too enthusiastically and my mud-covered boots.

I was told to find a supervisor and, uh, I did my best to look lost and clueless. It didn't occur to me that Heart Island doesn't have a gardening staff. Then the woman smiled this wide, unnerving smile. Oh, it's no trouble at all. She glanced at the two men next to her, who looked decidedly more concerned. In fact, why don't you join us for a spell? I'm sure you've been working very hard. The bigger guy's eyes widened, and he was suddenly smiling too.

Yeah, get yourself a snack, kid, he enthused. Big, screw this anyway. But the lady behind me gave me a playful little shove forward. Enjoy yourself. You're in for a show. So I stood around surveilling the room as subtly as I could. This was a weird-ass place for a party. The upper floor, overlooking the atrium, was lined with doors that looked like steel,

and I didn't want to think about who they might have held. I couldn't record discreetly, surrounded by all these people. so my plan was to wait around until they started to leave and then hide in a bathroom or something and film the aftermath. Until then I was alone in this mass of disgustingly rich people chattering on about increasingly unsettling things. What are your intentions for January? One woman asked the friends.

They're saying it's going to be a big one, a good time to ask for big things. You don't believe in the amplification BS, do you? The man had a side asked. That stuff's all in your head. Cognitive dissonance. Channeling works the same way all the time. We just like to imagine there must be a trade-off when things go to hell. Look at 1929, the woman insisted.

Major canes, major losses, they always come together. It's the balance. So, when things get really bad for a while, it just means something really good is coming. We just have to take advantage of it when it does. Cognitive dissonance, the man insisted. Patternseeking. All of that.

With all the suffering in 2020, we can hope. Another woman raised the champagne flute in a gloved hand. I look forward to many years of a long life and good health. I'll drink to that any time, the man agreed. Every bone in my body told me something here was really, really wrong. But then again, I was curious, and maybe a little flattered. I'm not the kind of person who gets invited. to big events, and some of these people seemed kind of nice.

Ignoring the fact that I was wearing an outfit that could be best described as and tifa losers at mud wrestling, I thought to myself, what the hell? Why not? But an hour later, serious alarm bells were starting to go off in my head. Gaggle after gaggle of rich people came up to me, like I was some kind of damn celebrity. They asked about me. What was my name? I lied, obviously. What did I do? Lied about that, too.

They told me how it was just so good to meet me. I was too flabbergasted, and possibly too freaked out to ask them anything about themselves. People like me don't have long-term relationships with people like them. I felt like an animal in a zoo. Maybe this random poor person

who had walked into their midst was an excuse to feel good about themselves for being magnanimous. About an hour in, the sound of clinking glass filled the air. Everybody fell silent almost instantly, and I followed their expecting gazes to see a taller man with a thick salt and peppered beard. The woman who invited me stood at his side, smiling funly. Esteemed magisters and members, from Seleau to St. Charles, from 71st to Georgetown,

will you? He had the voice of radio, and now it echoed. throughout the cavernous room. Thank you all for your presence here tonight. I know I, for one, have been anticipating this occasion for the better part of a year. Thank you for the opportunity to host. This is an auspicious time indeed to renew our collaboration. All signs are that the energy of this alignment will be particularly auspicious.

The world has seen terrible suffering in this past year, but we all know the greatness that will follow. Magisters? The hairs on the back of my neck were starting to stand up. Or spacious alignments? Sounded like some harmless rich people BS, like astrology or maybe the secret. But Magister sounded like something out of the craft.

Then he looked directly at me. We have an unexpected guest with us tonight. I looked around. The eyes of the rich folks nearest me were fixed on me too. Yeah, nope. I started trying to inch towards the door to the kitchen, but the group around me tightened a little, smiling at me, smiling, like they were afraid I'd run.

Yeah, I'm gonna head out. Sorry to intrude. I tried to push past them, politely, but a little insistently. But they didn't budge, and one guy even went to grab my shoulder. So, I bolted. I tried plowing through the crowd, hoping they would be too delicate to try tackling a crazy person who's clearly having a nervous breakdown in the middle of their gala. My hopes were disappointed.

Whispers like hisses filled the air around me, and suddenly my feet are in the air. Somebody must have spilled champagne, because I hit that tile floor with a full force of my weight. The party guests gathered around, giggling and exclaiming in awe. "'Geeze, you okay?' I looked up to see an unrealistically cute girl kneeling over me. I really think I've seen her in something, but for the life of me, I can't place what? Hey, your leg is bleeding. I looked down, and the pain hit.

I think you cut it on my glass. You're going to bolter me again if we go get you a band-aid. I looked at the champagne flutes shattered beneath me, and all the champagne all over a dress and suddenly my fear was mixed with a twinge of sheepishness she took me over to a side area and found a towel we chatted while she held it against my leg and I tried to shake off the embarrassment of fleeing in terror

from what was so obviously just a gala there was a lot of blood which for some reason made it even more embarrassing but she was really chill about it So right through my gardening staff story. But she offered to keep the secret if I'd stay and help them out with something they were about to do. It's just like a dumb show thing that happens sometimes,

but it means a lot to people. All you have to do is sit on stage for a few minutes. I wasn't feeling very motivated to say no to her. Just one thing. I'm going to have to blindfold you while we walk in. Wait a minute. Why would I need to be blindfolded? is this like an eyes wide shut kind of thing

get your mind out of the gutter and the next thing you know there I was being led through the dark I felt the girl's hand leading me down a hallway then another set of hands then another at least four people had their hands on me steering me towards something I couldn't see

suddenly an order woman's voice the woman who initially beckoned me in was in my ear Take a seat, dear. They sat me on a chair, but the hands stayed in my shoulders. Suddenly, I felt a rope swing around my left wrist, then my right. They pulled tight in a violent jerk, burning my skin and crushing my arms against the arms of the chair. I yelled out in pain.

Then the blindfold came off. I was sitting in the middle of a dramatically lit circular ballroom. The paint was flaking with the chandelier. were burning like it was a hundred years ago. I was surrounded on all sides by the party guests, watching me, waiting for something. What the ever-loving hell! The cute girl was standing in the front.

She winked at me. It's really awesome that you're doing this. I stared at her, while everyone else looked at me like a movie star. I didn't know if I was the hero or the victim. I swung my gaze around the ballroom, trying to calculate just how much danger I was in. I was flanked by four huge brass bowls. Two of them were filled with what looked like water.

The other two billowed bright orange flames. Two people stood on either side of the four bowls. They wore white ceremonial robes that looked like they've been made by Versacei, embroidered with black symbols. At the edges of the crowd were about ten people with. Sceptus? Is that the right word for it? Some kind of staff with big, heavy-looking knobs on the end.

These were also engraved with symbols. What the actual hell had I gotten myself into? The chandeliers dimmed and the ballroom was cast in eerie, flickering orange light. The crowd around me fell silent. It didn't seem real. I stared at them. They just stared right back. And then...

They screamed. All two hundred of them screamed at me. Karnel, their faces contorted into grotesque snows of rage. I screamed too. I couldn't help it. And then they stopped. Instantly they were silent. And staring at me again.

I was shaking. One of the men in robes stepped towards me. He had something in his hand. It was the towel with my blood on it. He held it up for the crowd to see and walked with it over to one of the flaming bowls. He caught the towel on fire and dropped it at my feet. The crowd hissed me as the flames licked dangerously close to my jeans. I tried to ball my legs up and away from it, but the heat was still singeing me through my denim.

I waited for my pants to catch on fire, but the rag burned itself out. The spotlight went out. Then the singing started. The low murmur, perfect synchrony, perfect harmony. The acoustics of the ballroom magnified their voices until the air itself seemed to vibrate. I could feel the vibrations in my chest, even though the voices were still low and gentle. Whatever words they were singing weren't English. They weren't Latin either.

I've never heard anything like it. The volume rose, but it. in a way that felt excruciatingly controlled. The harmonies remained intact. The voices perfectly synchronized. This was a religious act for these people. I could see the faces of the front row and the light of the fires nearest me,

and their eyes were closed. People didn't achieve this kind of harmony unless it meant something to them. My skin was beginning to crawl. The volume and the pitch were rising slowly. My ears were ringing. My chest was aching from the force of the noise. The people in the front row were shouting now.

Then they were screaming again. But this time it wasn't normal screaming. The voices kept their synchrony, their pitch, building a weird chorus of competing and harmonising screams. They sounded like they were about to kill somebody. All at once, the screaming stopped. Thank God. But it was replaced with a hissing, an aggressive, hungry, chanting. The hair

was standing at my arms and then realized it wasn't just from emotion. The air around me had grown very, very cold. A sudden gust of wind ruffled my hair. I looked around. Wind? Then something tickled my face.

A gentle rain of dust. Plaster dust. I looked up. Directly above me was a huge ancient chandelier. I threw myself, still tied to the chair, away from it. At the same moment, a thunderous crack echoed from the ballroom. I hit the marble floor between two of the flaming cauldrons,

at the same time the chandelier impacted with a horrific crash. And then... Nothing. I woke up, alone in the back of an SUV. My body hurt, my head hurt, the cut to my leg stung, my shin still burned, and I was covered in deep bruises. I glanced out the window, but I knew the answer. We were in Queens, only a few blocks from my apartment.

Almost home, sir. How did he know where I lived? My wallet was in my pocket, so was my phone, but I left my ID at home. You're lucky we found you when we did. The driver passed me back a bottle of water and a pack of aspirin, and that it wasn't worse. Those buildings can come down at any time There's a reason people aren't allowed out there

I stared at him in the mirror What was that? You got hurt, exploring, that's all Who were those people? Who are you? The driver pulled over and turned back towards me He stared at me, gravely serious No one, you see, saw no one. You got hurt while trespassing and we found you. And as long as that's what happened,

you were going to have a healthy and prosperous life. Do you understand? I thought I did. Maybe. Prosperous? He didn't answer. But if that's not what happened. His demeanor changed. I saw a bit of fear coming into his eyes. Don't. I've seen what can happen, okay? Don't tell anyone what you saw or who you saw. Just, please. You don't deserve all will happen to you. For the last week, I haven't.

But I recognised one of them on CNN today. And, like I said, I can't handle knowing about this and not alerting people. So I'm almost positive it was... And I think... If I share these pics, you can help me ID the others, so here we go. Sorry, I'm getting a terrible headache. I'll try uploading now. Sorry for the delay.

I'm just being really weird. Still trying to upload. Wow. Head hurts. Still having trouble uploading. I'm going to try one more time. get the images but hold on

I don't know what's happening to me