CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I was hired to notice things out of place" Creepypasta

Episode Date: October 23, 2022

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Saturdead: 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►Ivan Dedov: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/XB...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

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As a kid I was scared of pretty much everything. At night, I'd see faces moving in the wallpaper. I'd see branches slither like snakes. Piles of clothes turned to slump bodies. Lamps look like heads. And the front of cars grinned at me with sinister intent. I could also hear them.

A creaking door would sound like a groan. The wind would scream. The floorboards would breathe heavy sighs. To me, There were ghouls, ghosts and monsters around every corner. Needless to say, I was a nervous kid. Turns out it wasn't just an active imagination. I have a condition.

It basically boils down to chronic, overactive paradolia. You know, the thing where you can see faces in cars or shapes of people in trees. That's parodolia. It is a sort of defense mechanism that humans have evolved to notice camouflage creatures like jaguars and snakes, and they discern the sounds of encroaching predators. But to me, it is about 16 times more noticeable than what is normal for the average person. I see things everywhere all the time. Of course, there were treatments.

By age 12, I had tried six different regiments over a total of. four years and the side effects were brutal. Some would make me irritable, while others would make me hyper-focused. One type of medication just straight up put me to sleep. By age 18, I thought I'd never get a job. I was barely dragging myself through school, and there was no way I'd make it through college. I was on a course of drugs that barely kept me together, but they gave me these awful tics. I'd drop things. I'd wake up in the middle of the night. My leg would shoot out and trip me. I was a mess. My mom had to cover the stairs and handrails in grip tape. A few years ago, I had a standing meeting with the county employment services every

Thursday. I hated it. On a particularly bad day, my mom had to drive me there. The meds were kicking my ass. She dropped me off at the end of the street, and just in that short walk to the office, I almost tripped into a brick wall. I was so flustered I knocked over a trash can, but for the first time in a couple of years, I had an interview with a potential employer. I didn't think much of her. She was just some old woman in a warm coat. She introduced herself as Teresa. and told me that she'd heard a lot about me. She offered me a trial and a hefty one-time payment. I didn't get a clear idea about what I was supposed to do,

but she told me that secrecy was part of it. The only demand she had was that I stopped taking my meds. Still feeling the trash smell of my pants, I took Teresa up on her offer. On my first day of work, I had no idea what to expect. I'd been off my meds for a week, and I'd barely slipped. It was hard to wrap my head around the world as I'd seen it as a kid. I'd see faces in the walls, in the shadows, in the leaves, in patterns, pretty much everywhere.

I'd hear voices and screams in every breaking car, in crinkling paper, in creaking floors. It was hard staying focused and I was so jumpy I could barely move without flinching Teresa picked me up in a grey sedan She was wearing a headset And kept looking over at the GPS I noticed her leg was twitching

And that she kept biting her lip She barely looked at me the whole ride We finally arrived at a small yard About a 40 minute drive off the highway There were two large trailers and a single-story run-down pre-vap house from the 60s. One of those things were cheap wood panels and matching broken windows. There were eight other vehicles in the yard. Four sedans, two vans, a jeep and a bus.

They'd set up warning tape, a command tent with laptops and an antenna, spotlights, and half a dozen crates covered with blue tarps. There were armed men with assault rifles, security personnel with handcuffs and a couple of medics standing by with first aid kits and a stretcher. I was swarmed as soon as I stepped out of the car. They fitted me with a headset, protective gloves, a heart monitor and tagged me with a plastic ribbon around my left wrist. All the while, Teresa was just looking around, a bead of sweat stinging her eye. What are we looking at? she asked. Three, four. Just one, I heard in the headset. We got it early. You got the spot? On sight, she responded. Any blues? No blues. We're clear. Teresa finally turned to me. She faced me, put her hands on my shoulders and talked slowly.

This seems like a lot, she said. All I want you to do is go inside, carefully, and tell me what you see. Why? I asked, what's in there? I don't know, she sighed. None of us know. But we think you can see it. Is it dangerous? She shook her head.

We don't know. We're trying to get to know them. There was a flurry of instructions. I had to sign a waiver. They took pictures of me from six different angles. They took several blood samples. They took a swab from my tongue, checked my eyes, and fitted me with a pair of safety goggles. Teresa took them from me just seconds later.

Nothing around the eyes, she said. You need to see clearly. They asked me to approach the door while they were running some kind of diagnostic. Weapons check, systems check, ready checks. It felt like we were launching a rocket. I could feel my legs shaking. I'm with you all the way, Teresa said over the headset. You can leave at any time. Just tell me what you see. And I really mean what you see. A countdown began. At zero, the spotlights turned on and the entire yard turned into a soundless ghost town. Everyone had to. Everyone had to be.

held their breaths. It was my turn. I stepped inside, a simple one-story house, three rooms, a bathroom, a kitchen. Someone had clearly lived there until recently. There were still clothes flung over a chair in the living room. The power was off, but the pale spotlights coming in through the windows

made it feel like I was walking through a hospital waiting room. My heart was being. pounding out of my chest. I didn't know what to expect. But this payday could be the boost I needed to get my own place, a paycheck with four zeros for a single day of work. But standing there, looking into the sterile living room, I was having doubts. What do you see? asked Teresa, notice anything? No, just, just furniture. A couch, an old TV, a fancy carpet, nothing out to the ordinary. I just walked around saying out loud what I was seeing.

As the minutes passed, Teresa was getting impatient. These are just things, she said. I need you to tell me what you really see. I entered the bathroom and immediately felt this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. A noise tickled my air. I looked in the bathroom mirror. I could see something moving behind me. In a heartbeat, I caught a glimpse of a pair of blue eyes.

I turned around screaming. Something moved. I flung myself backwards, closing the bathroom door with the tip of my fingers. I stumbled, tearing down the shower curtains and crushing a cockroach. Lying there with my feet in the air, I tried to remember to breathe. Rarely have I ever been so scared that I had to remind myself to breathe. My fingers tingled with adrenaline. Tell me what you saw, Theresa yelled. What's in there?

Blue eyes. It had blue eyes. Did you see where it went? I didn't. To the best of my knowledge, it was still outside the door. look again she continued look again then get out she had to coax me out of the bathtub she encouraged me spurred me on and reminded me that i had to leave that room one way or the other it probably took them fifteen minutes to get me out of the tub and when they did i could barely feel my feet when i finally opened the bathroom door i couldn't see a anyone. The hallway was empty. I carefully stepped out, looking around, nothing, standing in the middle of the living room. I felt like an idiot. This was exactly what I was taking my medication for, paranoia and sudden bouts of fear. It dawned on me that maybe I was influenced by all the people outside and their preparations.

I was walking in here expecting to see something. They'd worked me up, so of course I was seeing things. But then again, there was an odd painting on the wall that I hadn't paid attention to earlier. It was the strangest thing. It was a sort of thrift store painting, showing two women walking across a bridge on a hot summer's day. It was sort of generic, but I'd been hyper-villigent when I first stepped in. You know that feeling when you say a word over and over so many times that it starts sounding like a noise? That's the feeling that fell over my eyes.

The picture started to blur and disappear, turning into swirling colors. And there, in that blur, I saw a... those blue eyes, there were small blue dots in the water on the sides of the bridge in the painting. That's what I'd seen, and there I'd seen a face, something blending into my sight, disappearing, and for a second I knew for certain that I hadn't seen this painting when I first stepped inside. And now, it knew that I could see it. see it. I felt it. I slowly started to back out. There's something in the painting, I whispered, in the living room. You sure? Teresa asked. Absolutely sure. Absolutely. Get out. I rounded the corner

and heard the floorboards creak. I could no longer see the painting and I could sense something move, backing out of the front door and into the cool autumn air, I could feel hands on my shoulder. Armed men pulled me back, and paramedics started to check my eyes with flashlights. They asked me all sorts of personal questions, like my name, my mother's maiden name, and the name of the president. I was told to lay down as I heard a team breach the house with stun guns, cattle prods, nets, and a crate. laying there and feeling the pressure subside. I just cried and laughed.

I didn't even notice Teresa sitting down next to me. I was given a cold drink and a pill, and I took it without question. You did good, she said. You're done, you're done. What was that? What's in there? Something, only a special mind.

can see. That was my first time working with Theresa. Over the coming years, I will be called in about once or twice a month, and the pay I got from those few days were enough to get me out to my parents' house. Teresa would check in with me weekly, and I had to submit to regular checkups, but more after than not, I was completely off the leash. I started to learn a bit more about the company I was working for and what they were doing. I started getting payments from Hatchet Biotechnica, a subsidiary of Hatchet Pharmaceuticals. My official title was contractor, a title that was repeated like a name. Teresa started going into greater details on what to look for and how to act. But that first mission was a sort of test to prove myself.

I had no idea what I was actually providing, but it felt like my tendency to discern patterns and seeing dangers helped me along. I learned a bit more about their procedures. For example, they were adamant about, quote, checking for blues. This meant surveying the nearby area to look for some kind of infection, usually taking the form of miscolored flowers. most often blue but not always sometimes tulips most often sunflowers

once they just found a bunch of teeth sticking out of the wall whenever they checked for blues this is what they would look for something overtly strange and unnatural when something like this was found the whole mission would be called off

and they would use controlled explosives to just take out the entire area In more populated areas, they set up tents and used flamethrowers. I remember once the week before Christmas, when six men with flamethrowers were called in to burn down a greenhouse. I'll never forget the way the flames reflected off their visors. To them, it all just looked like flames. But I saw something else. I saw bodies breathing in the flames.

I heard screams in the shattered. glass and in the charred remains of melted plastic, I'd see painted faces glaring at me with hateful black eyes. Up until a few months ago, I had worked a total of 33 cases over two and a half years. Every case, I'd step into a location and look for one to three things hiding in plain sight. Up until that point I still had no idea what they actually were Sometimes I'd catch a glimpse of something running past me Or see a pair of blue eyes looking at me from across the room

Every time I just reported it and left A chair, a fridge, a suspicious window Hell once it was a music box This time we were just coming up to a house It was a rainy autumn evening And the area was already set up when we got there I saw a for sale sign Knocked over by one of the jeeps who'd taken a wide turn

I got suited up Blood samples plastic wrap all that jazz It was set up to be just another job Although I was still nervous I was getting better No blues asked Theresa None said one of the armed men. We're looking at a single tango.

You sure, Theresa squinted, first reports at six. Secondary reading says one. We might have runners. Not if I glappagus, she sighed, put him on the hunt. She turned to me with a smile, tapping me on the shoulder. In and out. You got this. I got this, I repeated. Yeah. Standard routine. Countdown, spotlights. game on. It felt like stepping onto a stage. As I walked through the door and saw my shadow

stretch out across the floor, I felt like a hunter, that I was the one to fear, and that whatever stayed in this house tried to hide for good reason. The floor is crooked, I noted, strange place. You sure? Yeah, I nodded, definitely. I stayed in myself. I said, and started checking the rooms one by one. I waited for that strange feeling to emerge. My eyes seeing through the obvious and seeing the picture beneath a picture. The blue eyes emerging from nothing and the patterns of shadowy figures growing clearer. Just relaxing and expecting that feeling to wash over me was enough to put me at ease.

But I could still feel a problem. primal part of me tickling my nerves, expecting me to panic. But nothing happened. I checked the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom. There was nothing. Just a strange, crooked floor, empty rooms, and the echo of my own footsteps. An empty guest bedroom with a single window. Through it, I imagine scowling faces in the trees outside. 20 minutes passed, and I got nothing. I reported to Teresa, and she assured me we were still getting readings from inside the house. Something was still in there with me, but I hadn't seen anything.

I went through cycles of denial, fear and anger over and over. What was I missing? Finally, I just sat down in the middle of the living room floor. I scratched my eyes, sighed and tried to relax. Teresa, I'm... I'm not feeling it. Are you sure? There was no response.

Teresa? Yeah, she responded absentmindedly. Yeah, no, I... We're good. Hold on for a minute. We're good, I asked. What do you mean we're good? Again, no response.

I stomped around for another. ten minutes before I went up to a window facing the front yard. It was hard to see the glare of the spotlight. Teresa, I'm coming out. The place is empty. As soon as I opened the front door, I saw two dozen faces fixed on me. Maybe they were surprised to see me, but I got the sense that there was something else. I could tell something was off.

They all looked at me with some. strange expressions, some neutral, some smiling ear to ear. One of the paramedics just stared at me with slack-jawed terror. It was as if they didn't know what to feel or how to express it. A hole sunk through my stomach. I got that hollow feeling as my eyes glazed over like I was staring at something false, something hiding a pattern. This was the sense I'd been looking for inside,

and now I was feeling it. In the far back, I saw Teresa. She stepped out from behind a jeep, smiling ear to ear. Behind the shape of her, her eyes emerged, glowing with a cold blue. One by one, their eyes flared up in a blue glow. And there, in a moment, my paranoid sight registered human-like shapes in the grass around them. Headless, mauled bodies.

Impostors, lookalikes, mimics, nightmare beings, having tricked us into a trap. One by one, smiles started creeping across their faces. Rows of impossible sharp teeth hiding long tongues. Their fingers grown longer, the necks elongating. They were losing their disguise and facing. me, head on, unafraid. Nothing was said out loud, not a word, but to me it was as if the wind itself was screaming for me. To run.

I slammed the door behind me and ran. Faces were coming out of the walls, door handles turning into hands, grasping at my clothes. My distorted face, reflecting in the windows and mirrors with jawless grins. I couldn't blink. Every heartbeat, a new horror forced my eyes open. There were more doors than I could remember. There were more windows than there should be. The kitchen suddenly had a skylight, and there were four fridges.

Countless paintings had appeared in the master bedroom, depicting cruel and blood-drenched horrors. They were already here, trying to surround me, and my mind was racing to remember what was real and what was. wasn't. Rushing to the back of the guest bedroom, I remembered there being only one window. Now, there were two. I had to roll the dice, take a guess, do something. As I grabbed the window frame, I imagined teeth slamming into my hands, tongues licking across my palms, wide smiles sating their hunger. But this time, it was just my imagination.

I burst through the window and took off running into the woods. Through the night, I just kept going. My chest hurt from holding the screams in. Without my medication, everything in the dark looked like something reaching for me, trying to eat me, trying to grab me. Creaking branches sounded like laughter, and howling winds were screams. I must have run for hours when my foot got caught between two rocks. As I tumbled to the ground, twisting my ankle, I saw them descend on me.

I felt their fingers scratching me. I writhed on the ground, screaming for them to just let me go, to just please, please let me go. But after a few seconds, I realized I'd just scratch myself on the underbrush. There was no one there. I was safe. I broke down crying, trying to ignore the twist. face reflecting of the full moon above. Eventually, I made my way home.

There were no messages waiting for me. All my work numbers had been taken offline. All ways to contact them were just gone. And there was no information on the firm that hired me. Hattropytechnecica exists only on paper. There's no location, no contact info, and no names attached. It's all affront. I haven't heard from Teresa since.

I think that whoever I've been working for has just assumed that I'm dead. That's why I decided to share this anonymously. Those who know who I am can reach out to me and for those who don't. I just have a word of warning. Be observant. Trust your intuition.

It might. Just save you. your life.