CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I was hired by Disney to cut the hair of the dolls because their hair grows yearly" Creepypasta

Episode Date: May 2, 2022

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Goose_jpg: 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-

This weekend I'm from waked I'm all moose I'm not as I'm on think Oh, that dossier that morning off must be

I'm all mooh as I'm not on think. Oh, van't after the night at a yearnobos I'm a moose

if I'm on going to come. Give you self then a boost with bio-cure Maxshot Liquid three up-heptive

plants, magnesium, iceer, an energy booster to make sure to come to come out of Bocure

Macshot liquid. Foodings Supplement, forcriag-mire by the apotheker. Now, I'm unsure where I stand legally with this after signing an NDA, but those things only matter if you're alive, right? My name is Mack Habistro. The Mac is short for Mackenzie, and I'm a freelance artist. Now, I'm not a painter. In fact, my work revolves around dolls. I'm not fun of them as much as the next person.

Porsing dolls scare me the most. Their lifeless eyes, entire fashion, are outdated. and I can't help but associate them with horror movies. I often avoid working with them unless I'm desperate for a gig, but I must admit that doing their hair is more manageable than most dolls. Despite this, I spend most of my time working on anything but porcelain. I post my work on Facebook and Instagram, as they've been the best way to reach clients. But when my niece, Laura, suggested I try and upload clips to TikTok,

I saw an influx of interest in my handiwork. I was surprised to see how many people sat through a quick one-minute clip of hair restoration or styling. And despite the negative stigma surrounding dolls, people loved it. Kids seemed to enjoy my guides and I was thankful. In fact, Laura's suggestion was so helpful that I received a message requesting my phone number from the Disney in my business email, despite the address only being linked to my my Facebook and Instagram. At 10.34pm, the following evening, I received a call.

I was tempted to ignore the obnoxious buzzing from my mobile due to how late it was. My social battery was drained from a day of putting on a personality for videos, and I just selected a movie to watch. But when I answered, the mention of a hefty sum of money soon sent electricity through my veins, and I was awoken by a sheer motivator of cold, hard cash. Before I tell you about the job, I have to explain it a little. If you're not familiar with yarn, weirdly enough, it grows. Technically it stretches over time, but when you put it on a doll, you may as well say it grows.

And, with the added wetness and humidity of places, such as the Disney, it's a small world ride. The doll's hair blooms. Since yarn has a very high chance of splitting, you can't just hire any. to cut the hair. It needs to be done by somebody with experience, as it means they'd have to pay another person to come and replant more. This is where I come in. When you download or sign up for something, do you read the terms and services? Because I don't. I probably should have read my contract past the first page and made with the NDA when I arrived in California. Over the phone, Mr. Darwin mentioned that I was allowed to

take pictures for my portfolio. However, I was not allowed to live stream the process on Facebook or Instagram. Any knowledge of the workings of Disney was not allowed to be shared. Nothing surrounding live streaming on TikTok was mentioned verbally, but I wondered if the NDA had any information that may have warned me about the experience. After the brief meeting, a senior cast member named Louise led me to where I would be staying, which from my understanding was situated right in the park. Louise was pretty young, perhaps mid-twenties,

a year older than me. However, despite a young age, dark circles hidden poorly by makeup hung from her eyes, and her mousy blonde hair was thin and frail and hung in a face. She walked me around the park and showed me employee walls

awarding long-service cast members. A few awards belonged to Mr. Darwin, who worked for the park for 15 years. "'So you like dolls?' Louise asked timidly, as if she had forgotten a roll for a minute. "'Yeah, you could say that, but I mainly like doing their hair. "'I've always enjoyed it, even when I was little,' I shrugged. "'The girls in your family must love you,' she smiled softly. Soon enough, she closed the distance between us.

"'I grew up with my dad, and he didn't know how to tie hair.' She sighed, her voice hardly audible over both adults and children's joyous screams. What about your mom or sisters? I asked, afraid to overstep any boundaries. My mum passed away while I was little. My dad's side of the family didn't really have any female relatives. I gave Louise a small smile, unsure what to say, and ultimately decided to change the topic. Who previously did the doll's hair? I asked, just as Louise, showed me how to open my room door. I thought that a place like Disney

would have a permanent guy for it. The question must have surprised her because she fumbled with my card and a red light flickered above the handle. Never met her. A need to avoid eye contact made it obvious she was lying.

I found it peculiarly that Disney didn't have a specific person for the role. I asked Mr. Darwin on the phone when he first called but he just told me she'd transfer to the treasure staff apartment, but I was hoping to speak to her about how the dolls are usually treated. Louise tried the sensor again, and this time we were greeted by the clink of a door unlocking and a green light. You should try to ask him then. I didn't speak to her much. Is there anything

else you need? She asked, and I shook my head no. The room was like a studio apartment, open planned with the only walled-off area being the bathroom. It was cozy and a kitchen meant I get cook rather than fattening myself up on expensive attraction food. Sat on a kitchen island was an elegant but aged file on all the dolls and a small toolbox. Every single page had been laminated, but it was clear they were once left bare by the crinkles on each sheet. There was one page specifically that was aged the most and stained with purple brown ink. The picture attached to the document seemed to have been taped. ton, while the others must have been glued.

The image was a pretty blonde doll, dressed in age attire with a small white apron. The sheet listed her usual hair length and sign off sheets for when the hair had been cut and replaced. But, unlike the other dolls, Bella Donna had managed to keep her original yarn from 2005. Despite not being the oldest of dolls, her page had definitely been loved. in the toolkit was scissors, tonics and cotton buds to care for the dolls although the hair was my forte they requested I also clean the doll's eyes and any dirt spots or mould

that may have gathered since the last time of care Mr. Daron requests that you enjoy your free time until this evening while the park is closed Louis smiled we like to keep our rides operable during the day and avoid disturbing the magic for the guests while on the ride The last thing they want to see is you working on the dolls. I'll be back to guide you this evening.

And with that, she left. With Louise gone, I took the time to study each doll. Almost all of them had the same care pattern, and honestly, trimming yarn was something I'd done for decades. A few dolls with sticky notes on their pages needed particular things, such as restyling. These dolls moved a lot more, and their hair often came loose. and a few had needed more hair planted in.

When evening came, Louise guided me over to the ride, an incredibly catchy tune still played and got louder as we approached. She took me through the back entrance, which allowed me to access the dolls from behind. Louise, I called just as she was leaving. Could you turn off the music? I asked, surprised that they went through the effort of emptying the water but left the music running.

I can't, she said flatly. Is there not a button? I can hope you look. I don't know if I can work while it's playing, I insisted. I also wasn't sure if I get some sort of copyright issue on TikTok. No, we've never turned the music off. It misses with the dolls. There's a slight pause.

Mechanics. I'm not sure about the specifics, but many are old animatronics, and the music plays a big part. but if you need to pause a doll while you work on it, you just need to press their IMBs, individual mechanism buttons. There was nothing too strange about the first evening. I'd never been to Disneyland before, so I was completely unaware that the song's language had changed for each area. I managed to get just over a dozen of the dolls preened and cleaned, meaning that I could move from the frozen North Pole section to Scandinavia.

A few people that join my stream enjoy the program. process, and with my phone on a tripod, I was able to work efficiently. As expected, a majority of viewers had complained about the song, so much so that I had to pin a comment explaining that I couldn't turn it off. A strange thing was that some of the doors had a weird goo at the top of their head, as some sort of brownish bonding agent hadn't mixed well with the humidity. I scanned the Scandinavian section for a moment and took in the details. beautiful and traditional dresses to unique hats. It looked magical. I could tell which dolls

had a lot of movement from the number of flyaway hairs. However, there was one doll that didn't remain static. In the distance, on top of a crescent moon in the air, sat three dolls. In the centre, a blonde doll's head moved right to left on a loop as if surveying the area. I had attempted to show the viewers, but I caught a looming louis. standing at the door to the section. Mr. Habistro, Louise called out. She was no longer in a uniform, but her hair was still neatly tied back.

She remained at the door to the attraction, almost like she refused to come in. I didn't blame her, though. One misstep, and you'd probably fall. I pulled my phone down and looked towards Louise. I swallowed a flat glob of spit back down to my throat and replied with the strange. Mm-hmm?

Sorry to disturb you, but it's 3 a.m. I was told I had to guide you back to your room before I could clock out, she yawned. I gathered my gear in a rush, careful not to knock over anything in the set. Had you noticed? No, Louise. I'm sorry, let's go. The next night I came prepared, with earbuds designed for married couples, to drown at their partner's snores. But nothing could cancel out the cheery side. It was so useless that I ripped them at the beginning.

The earbuds were better used as an expensive cotton swab, great for those hard-to-hit spots. Once again, Louise watched me from the door for a few moments. How many nights do you think it'll take you? she asked curiously. Hmm, with this many dolls, it could be two weeks, maybe more, I shrugged. I used the dull pair of scissors to snip away the elastic band around the doll's hair. Louise allowed the tune to fill the silence for a couple of seconds before

saying goodbye and leaving. I once again set up my phone. If the CIA wanted a new torture method, boy do I have one for them. The tune to It's a Small World is endearing for a short while,

but it becomes increasingly annoying. Imagine just how much I wanted to rip my hair out after an hour. I was surprised that my viewers continued to increase. I talked through another doll and changed the angle to show the three dolls on the moon again. However, I was surprised to see the centre one sat static again. That's strange, I hund.

Perhaps she needs repairs. I think it's one of the older dolls. She's pretty, though. I moved the phone to point to the other dolls and began to work on another that needed a trim. Something as simple as a snip, takes a lot of time as you need to be careful. I'll have to ask for a ladder tomorrow. Maybe we'll get a good view from up there.

Nearing the night's end, I noticed that dull pair of scissors had gone missing. I'd come across them on the track with some extreme looking and a brilliant suggestion to use a torch. Embarrassed by my mistake and the idea that I may have dropped them while the earbuds were in, I grew extremely flushed. You can't record in here, McKendon. Louis spluttered in a panic. I almost dropped the scissors at her voice.

You can take pictures, but you need to delete that video. Although it was the demand, it seemed like she was regurgitating someone else's words. And like a child being scolded, I stuttered to speak. It's a... A live stream. End it, end it now. She was desperate. I quickly followed a word and closed the live stream.

"'Is it off?' I nodded. "'You can't do that. They're shy.' Louise glanced up at the moon, and her eyes changed for a split second, before she let out a small chuckle, indicating that she was choking. "'Hey, you head back. I need to close up.' She smiled, and I obliged. "'Don't worry. I won't tell them.' Disney probably safety-checked the ride each morning.

But I couldn't help but think of the scissors, causing a crash of flinging into somebody's face. The fact that I could have killed somebody kept me up alongside the mass messages of an edited screenshot of the moon dolls. The most annoying part was that it was sent from many accounts. A stupid joke, but one freak enough to make me not want to be there alone. On further inspection, the middle doll had been staring at the camera. Something its mechanism shouldn't have allowed it to do. I managed the sleep through the day The warm sun illuminated the room softly

And protected me from anything looming in the shadows And allowed my overactive brain to relax I'd managed to wash up Feed myself and play my phone for a bit Until there was a knock at my door Mr Habistro I'm here to escort you A male voice trickled in from the cracks beneath the door I hesitated to answer and crept to the door

"'Where's Louise?' I asked. She transferred to a different department,' he informed, and I peeped to the spy hole. In front of the door was a young gentleman in his early twenties. Despite his age, he seemed confident in himself. It was weird since she didn't mention transferring. Maybe she forgot. Mr Darwin asked me to escort you from now on. He beamed as if he knew I was looking at him.

so I opened the door and he handed me the doll profile book. You left this last night. The walk to the ride felt shorter than ever. Michael and I got along swimmingly and he shared stories of his little sister's fascination with dolls which she had gotten from their older sister. I was wrong to be suspicious of him. Hey Michael, do you know how to turn the music off?

I tried. Oh, it doesn't turn off. The dolls have to stay active which means the music stays on. He informed me. The reply was similar to Louises. I decided not to work on the moon dolls at session, as the middle one had disappeared. Maybe for repairs. Bushing my luck, I set up another stream and started by showing the new section to the viewers.

Strange, none of them are moving today, I noticed. It was true. The music was playing, however, the dolls were still, as if their iron bees had been I guess it makes it easier for me to work on them. Since it was an easier night, I was able to answer a few questions. I refused a disclosed location, but people quickly identify the dolls. How do you know which is which? A comment asked.

Well, if you check their backs, there's this tag with a number on the back. I explained while moving to the next doll. I arrived at one which looked well kept and searched for the tag. Oh, this one doesn't have one. I showed the front of the doll to the camera. Her mousy blonde hair hung straight, but the strange brown goo had begun to seep from the scalp. She must have lost the tag.

I took the time to clear the smelly goop and tied the hair back, careful not to ruin the yarn. Just as I was about to switch to another doll, I noticed the liquid had started the seep out of one of her eyes. I quickly wiped it with a cloth, turning the material a maroon collar. Maybe it's some sort of wood glue or something. I swapped another doll, which is dressed up as Alice from Alice in Wonderland, and pulled out the tag to show it.

Number 32, so if I searched through my book for 32, it'll show me a reference. I grinned. I can't show you, though, or I'll get into trouble. But I bet you can guess who she was meant to look like. I learned from previous mistakes and stop my stream before three, which was good judgment because Michael appeared right on time. How's it going? he smiled. Peachy, I found all that a tag though.

Who do I report it to? I pointed out the doll to him. Oh, I'll look into it. Belladonna was back the next night and the dolls were back in motion. It seemed the further along I got, the lazier the dolls became. I couldn't help but wonder. if the mechanics got burnt out after being on 24-7. Michael was able to get me a ladder,

but he seemed to linger around, meaning I couldn't stream. I climbed up the ladder and placed my toolbox at the top. There was no room for the book, so it meant I had to climb back down to double-check my work. Did you find out what number the door was? I tied his hair back, but I'm worried it had a certain style. I asked him,

taking extra care to trim the yarn of the first. first doll while so high up. Um, Michael Hund, I'm not sure. Do you want to come and check with me? I know where the right plans are, he mentioned. Like, right now? With my rising viewage, I didn't want to start my stream too late. It felt like I had people expecting me, Fonnes.

When you're done with that? I took a look at Belladonna and pressed at I&B. Something clicked, and it allowed ahead to move back forth again. Although I hadn't worked on her yet, I didn't want to jam the mechanics for too long for fear of breaking her. Michael took me to the backroom area for the ride, somewhere I never expected to be. He rummaged around as if he knew what he should be looking for, but not where it was. I heard that they keep an updated plan from the Imagineers somewhere. Every other ride I worked on had one. They used to updated when there were any changes. He should be

shoveled around until he got to the last drawer. Oh, what is it? This one was last updated in 2006. Disappointment alongside something else I couldn't pinpoint goaded his voice. I watched as he took out the previous plan and waited for him to examine them. Mr. Habistro? What do you think about the ride? He asked. I mean, it's cute. I struggled to place an opinion on it. Kind of strange, I dunno. My older sister used to love this ride. When she turned 18, I remember she got a Disney pass, so she could come and look at all the dolls. I raised the brow, feeling like I was in the wrong place.

I was only eight at the time. Yeah, I replied. Let's head back. A lot of the dolls aren't even on here, especially the new one. Did you check down the shirt for the tag? No. I guess I didn't check properly. For some reason, Michael kept hold of the ride plan and followed me out.

We navigated towards the mysterious doll across the ride, and I noticed a new tag hanging out of its shirt. Just as I went to reach it, a huge crash echoed throughout the tunnel. The sound of clashing metal sent both Michael and me, jumping out of our skin. Michael screamed a few curse words and quickly corrected himself. It seemed like he hadn't fully grasped the cast member personality just yet. Sorry, he apologised.

We turned the slight corner around to see my toolbox on the ground. The ladder, however, was still in place. I guess I should be the one that's sorry. I should have taken it down with me. Unfortunately, bottles of cleaners and tonics had smashed across the track. I hopped down and tried to clear the bigger pieces while Michael grabbed a broom. I loaded the bigger chunks into the now liquid soaked piece of cloth, but a much smaller piece impelled my finger in the process.

It didn't cause much harm, but I was a baby about pulling it out. When Michael came back, he helped me remove it, and I used the cloth to stop the bleeding while he retrieved the first aid kit. The liquid on the fabric stung and turned my blood a dark colour. It wasn't one of my best ideas to use something soaked in clean, cleaning fluid as a gauze.

When Michael came back, he took it upon himself to disinfect and bandage the wound. Despite everything, I was stuck staring at the cloth. Michael followed my gaze to the cloth and hissed under his breath. You lost all that blood? No, just a bit. Those big stains are from the dolls, I huffed. Why would dolls bleed? He asked, confused.

I mean, I'm not a doll expert, but it wasn't blood. It was a weird goop. It may have been glue or something reacting with the rusty mechanisms. Now that I said it out loud, it did sound stupid. Which dolls? he asked. Quite a few. The one we're at had some. Michael grabbed the scissors from the ground and rushed over to the newly tagged doll.

I scrambled behind him, desperate to keep up. What did she look like? He shook. She? She? The person before me. Louise. Michael rushed his words out. His panic had started to infect me.

She had almost brown hair, mousy blonde, dark circles. I don't know, I tripped over my words. Look at it. Although his voice was weak, his sentence was demanding. And I did, as I was told. At first, it didn't make sense. The doll in front of me was frail-looking, skinny, with less yarn than they gave the rest. Sure, the hair colour was the same, but that didn't mean anything. You're not suggesting, I trawled off.

It was so ridiculous that I couldn't finish my sentence. Cleaning fluid had formaldehyde in it. Do you know what it's also used for? He asked. Scissors gripped so hard in his hands that his fingers were turning white. When I failed to answer, he did it for me. They embalm with it. It reacts with blood too.

It's even used in disinfectant water. pipes. I had caught onto parts of his accusation even more now. But if it was embalmed, why would it leak? I don't know, a bad job maybe. Michael raised the scissors, ready to stab into the doll, and I threw myself in front of him. Stop, this is stupid. You can't destroy it. You have no proof. Michael stopped, lowered his arms and paused for a minute. He pulled the folded right plan out of his pocket and opened it up. Do you remember which dolls had the goo? Circle them.

I stared at the plan for longer than I wanted to. It took me a few moments to decipher it. Well? I can't, I admitted. They're not on here. Only the moon one is. Show me the page for it. Michael followed me back to the doll portfolio.

It was already open on Belladonna's, ready for a fix-up. "'Hurs,' I handed in the book, which he took. "'I watched as a tan Michael turned pale as a sheet. "'His appearance became incredibly sickly, "'and his lack of reaction worried me. "'Finally, he shook out a breath and swallowed. "'He shakily handing me back the book and sat on the wet track. "'Michael began to sob into his knees aggressively,

"'and once again I stood in fright of the strange man. It wasn't until I crouched down to his height to comfort him that I managed to hear what he was crying out. Donna, Donna, Donna, he sobbed. His voice cracked and his words broke from his tears. Donna, Bella Donna? I asked. And he only sobbed harder. I couldn't get an explanation out of him for a long time.

We sat on the tracks, soaking our trousers and left over bromine residue. I had no idea how to deal with somebody. so unbelievably upset that all I could do was take the scissors off of him, drop them and wait. When he finally calmed down, I glanced up at the doll on the moon, returning the stair. Pint pricks of fear stabbed my body as I locked eyes with her, but she didn't move. My sister, Donna, she went missing here. My parents never told me what happened, but I became obsessed with her disappearance a few years back. The police never figured it out

And she apparently checked out of the park So it wasn't the park's responsibility I felt uncomfortable But I heard him out They think they found a body But her face was mangled Her eyes, teeth and fingertips were missing But it had a bracelet

My parents couldn't confirm it was her But we buried it anyway I wrapped my arm around him And pulled him into an embrace His wet cheeks pressed against mine Bella Donna is what a cast member used to call her I re-watched old home videos recently He wasn't too old

He'd maybe a few years on her Probably my age Pretty Donna I watched Michael stand up and head to the ladders His shaky frame climbed it towards the doll I didn't have the heart to stop him He ripped it from his frame And carried it down

brown goo leaked from its eyes but it remained completely static Mom and Dad always said you go after anyone who gave you attention You were born to be adored He whispered and wiped her eyes with his sleeve In an unexpected feet Michael who had grabbed the scissors off the floor Stabbed the doll's face Brown sleds dripped from the hole

And whitish stones fell to the ground alongside it Teeth. All around us, the dolls began to leak, their bodies motionless, and the music stopped. This was a favourite ride. He sobbed and embraced the doll, standing his uniform with a liquid. I watched as he mourned for a long time, the relief of finding out what happened to his sister, but the pain of losing her again had reopened wounds that had once healed. Michael and I both left in my car

However, my phone won't stop ringing I have blocked Mr Darwin's number But I keep getting calls from random and unknown numbers Michael told me not to answer I was hired by Disney to cut the hair of the It's Small World Dolls because their hair grows yearly And now I fear That my life is in danger