CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I wish my new friend didn't live deep in the woods" Creepypasta

Episode Date: May 11, 2022

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by beardify: 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-

It's not like my parents didn't warn me to be careful around strangers. But since my dad's sales job was, in his words, the only thing keeping us off the streets, I had to be very careful who I treated as a stranger. Auntie Lynn, for example. We only saw her a few times a year. But since she'd given my dad some kind of loan, I had to put up with a funeral parlour perfume, smoker's breath, and near constant cheek pinching and rib-poking from a gnarled. creepy old fingers.

Or dad's boss, Mr. Rainier, with his booming voice and bright red face and weird way of walking. He looked like the kind of big, sloppy drunk who just might toss a kid in the air for kicks, then tried to catch him and miss. Even so, it was, Yes, sir, Mr. Rainier,

and thank you for teaching me to shake hands properly, Mr. Rainier, each time he came around. Strangers, I learned, could be people who dressed weird or lived on the other side of town. They could be people who smelled funny or whose skin was a different color than ours. They could be people who talked too much or too little or people who had a lot of bumper stickers on their car.

But they definitely weren't people with money. When I told my grandpa about my parents' odd definition of strangers, he just scoffed. Sounds like a bunch of crap to me. I remember how much my mouth popped over. at that word. Grandpa never cursed. He was a strict Southern Baptist, as skinny and hard as the hickory he whittled

on his trailer's front porch. That day he put down his carving and bent down till his weathered blue eyes were looking into mine. Listen, Sonny, at your age, you got what I call kid sense. It's something you lose when you get older. Not sure why.

Maybe he gets replaced by other things. But the fact is, if something don't feel right to you, there's always a reason. It might not always be a good reason, like when you were scared of my hound dog, just because he's big and shaggy, and has one blind eye. But there's always a reason, always.

You listen to your kid sense. If it tells you to run, you get out of there quick. Got it. I thought I knew what grandpa meant. I wasn't totally sure, but I nodded anyway. My parents came to pick me up a few minutes later, complaining about what the Greville Roads were doing to the BMW. I made a new friend that summer. His name was Oliver, and he met almost all of my parents' qualifications for being a stranger.

We met on a half-abandoned basketball court halfway between his school and mine. I was shooting hoops alone and feeling sorry for myself, because my friends had kicked me out of the game of skunk, and Oliver. Well, I guess he was just exploring the neighbourhood. He was about my age, and we hit it off right away. We shot hoops together until sunset. As the sun sank below the trees, my heart sank as well.

I got along with this kid way better than any of my so-called friends, but how would I ever see him again? I knew my parents wouldn't want me to hang out with a kid like him. and yet I guess I gotta get home I sighed I wish we lived closer together you kidding

Oliver laughed where you live Meadowbrook Heights That's nothing 219A Home of the King baby Through the woods I was sure I hadn't heard right

Yeah Oliver looked at me Like maybe the basketball Had hit me in the head too many times You can take the abandoned railroad tracks Or one of the trails the animals make That connect to the power lines Look

He pointed to a break in the gloomy woods One of them even comes out on this court I mean, how do you think I was going to get back? I mean I looked around The street lights might come on At any second And then I'd really be screwed

but isn't it kind of, I don't know, dark? Oliver grinned and stuck his chin out proudly. I ain't afraid of no ghosts. In that moment, he became the coolest kid I'd ever met. We decided to meet that Saturday. I tell my parents I was going to play basketball with the friends they already knew, but my real plan was to sneak through the woods to 219A, home of the king baby

looking at the tiny trail and the overgrown shadows of the woods though I felt a lot less confident I'd already followed the power lines just like Oliver had said slapping the ticks off as I slugged through the shoulder-high summer grass the absence of people

was starting to freak me out a little in Meadowbrook Heights there was always somebody around the postman delivering mail the neighbours mowing their lawn those annoying toddlers two houses down spraying each other with a garden hose but out here

there was nobody if my kids sense kicked in out here who would I run to I told myself that I was just being a big baby and after all didn't Oliver make this walk in the dark even so it wasn't much of a trail more like a thin line of grass

flattened over time who or what had come come through here so often and why I couldn't even guess. As I walked into the wall of green, I thought about the abandoned railroad tracks Oliver had mentioned. Hadn't my dad always said that drug addicts and crazy homeless people hung out in places like that? The nasty tissues and rusted beer cans in the bushes started to seem sinister. Even worse, I realized there wasn't just one trail through the woods. There were dozens of them.

if I took the wrong one and got lost. I paused. Oliver had said, Straight through the woods, so straight was how I went. I'm not sure if the little path became clearer, or I got used to it, but soon I was actually enjoying the weird chunk of undeveloped land.

There was a little blue pond, colorful dragonflies like I'd never seen before, an emerald clearing with rings of tiny red mushrooms. In no time at all, I was overlooking the gloomy, colourless buildings of Dunbar apartments. I'd made it. I whooped and ran down the hill. Before I did, though, I ate the strangest feeling, like I was being watched from just inside the woods. But I shook it off and hurried to meet my new friend.

We had a great time, right up until I left. Oliver had planned on walking me to the edge of the woods. But a shadow fell over us as we stepped outside the door to 219A. Excuse me, the man towering over us had waved your white hair. His eyes were as bright and uncanny as his emerald green suit. A gold chain hung from his vest and gold rings twinkled on his fingers. Now here was a guy with money. Would you fine young men mind helping me out?

Fine young men, I liked that. What you need, Oliver offered. I'm a manager of sorts, you see. He gestured to the dilapidated bare door of 219B, and I need to get inside this empty apartment. Unfortunately, I'm not as strong as I used to be, and the door appears to be stuck shut. My new two fine young men open it for me.

Oliver and I looked at each other. The man in green drummed his fingers on his thigh. Impatiently, hungrily, I thought. Suddenly, I knew I didn't want to be in any. the apartment alone with this guy, and I knew exactly what my grandpa had meant earlier that summer. I actually got to be getting home. Sorry. I grabbed Oliver's wrist and tugged toward the staircase. Young man, the commanding tone stopped me in my tracks. It was exactly like my father's. As he spoke, the man in green had positioned himself between us and Oliver's apartment.

Our only are the means of escape. I am a manager, and I haven't given you permission to go yet. All I need is your help with a small task. There's no harm in that, is there? I can pay you. The man counters him coins, and Oliver's eyes lit up. I tightened my grip on Oliver's wrist. Well, you can pay somebody else.

We've got to go. Sorry. I took off before Oliver could protest, and didn't stop until we were back on top of the hill. What the hell, man? Then, Oliver panted. Didn't you get a weird vibe from that guy? I demanded.

Well, yeah, Oliver shrugged. But like my old man says, a dollar is a dollar. Besides, even if he was sketchy, what's he going to do? There's two of us. I don't know, I grimaced. I don't want to know. A truck horn honked, and an older version of Oliver waved at us with a big toothy grin. That's my dad, Oliver sighed.

He'd put on a brave face, but I could tell he was just as relieved as I was to see an adult other than the man in green. You've got to get back before your folks get suspicious. I ask my dad about that guy. Don't worry. Oliver punched my arm. I'll be safe now. Okay, I chuckled nervously. Straight back through the woods, just like you said.

Oliver gave me an odd look. No man, from Medibrook Heights, you go straight at the power lines. and then take two lefts. Oliver's dad honed again, and my friend gave me a final wave as he headed down the hill. It had gotten cloudy, and I wasn't sure

if there was a chill in the air or in my bones. All I knew for sure was that I did not want to go into those woods again. If I didn't, though, I'd be grounded for sure. Facing my dad when he was angry

was the scariest thing I could imagine, even scarier than that weird wide-eyed man in green. With a sigh, I set off down the trail. Okay, if it should have been two lefts before, this time it should be too right. It was dimmer in the forest this time, so dimmed I almost missed my turn,

almost. Try not to get lost kept me on edge, to the point that I jumped at the slightest sound, a bird cooing, skittering in the bushes. I almost didn't recognize the little, little blue pond, but the clearing felt familiar, and I knew I'd seen those circles of red mushrooms before.

I scratched my head. It didn't make sense. How had I ended up back in this spot? Oh, hello there, young man. I recognised the voice even without turning around, the creepy old man from the hallway. How had he beaten me here? His bright green suit was immaculate. even though he was sitting on a rotted log beside the pond.

Golden beams of sunset coming through the clouds, turned his hair of white golden, and illuminated the hand-woven basket beside him, full of plump and delicious-looking red fruits I didn't recognize. Medabrook Heights suddenly felt very far away. The man in green must have noticed the look of my face because he leaned forward with a big, wide-eyed grin that made my hair stand on end.

What a surprise to see you again. I thought you were in a hurry. I was, I corrected myself quickly. I mean, I am, so... Then, why did you come back here? He raised the bushy eyebrow. I didn't have an answer for that. Well, now that you've come,

why didn't you share some of these fruits with me? They grow here, you know, and they're perfectly safe to eat. He popped one into his mouth, and then the red juice ran down his wisoned chin like blood. Here, take one. I took a step backward. How had he gotten so close?

It's rude not to take us offer to you, young man. You know that, don't you. You don't even have to eat it if you don't want to. Take it home as a gift for your mom and dad. You can tell them you met the manager. They'd like that, wouldn't they? And then you wouldn't be in so much trouble. if word got back to them about your friend.

The man in Green's voice had a hypnotic sing-song quality. As he spoke, I felt the tips on my toes dragging over the wet grass as it reeled me closer and closer to him. There couldn't be any harm in taking just one, right? But then a strange thing happened. The crimson berries in the man's hand which just seemed so delicious and bright from far away looked a lot more like tiny.

rotten mushrooms up close. Kid sense. I thought about Grandpa and stopped my hand mid-reach. I don't care if it's rude, I said flatly. I don't care if I get into trouble. I'm going home, and I know my way back. The Man in Green's face melted into a red mask of rage and then put itself back together in a way that was horrifying to see.

But I didn't stick around for what might happen next. I was out of there, sprinting faster than I ever had on the basketball court. The streetlights were already on by the time I got back to Meadowbrook Heights. The yards and sidewalks were empty and blue in the twilight. All the families were inside and sitting down to dinner together, except mine. I was going to be in so much trouble. My clothes were filthy and shredded by the woods. I shivered as sweat began to cool on my skin.

Just two more streets, I told myself. He was approaching from the opposite direction. Even before I felt my stomach drop, I knew who it was. My jellied legs didn't have the strength to beat him to my parents' house. The gold of his rings and watch chain sparkled in what was left to the light. The man in green stopped just in front of my parents' driveway. Just like before, I found myself moving toward him almost against my will. It was like sleepwalking.

You've been a very bad young man. The man in green crossed his arms. His victory smile was like a razor blade. D trespassing in the woods, spending time in a stranger's apartment, lying to your parents. But I'm going to give you one last chance. If you will but tell me your name, I'll ask your father to be lenient when I tell him what you've done. I felt a burst of anger.

There was something wrong with a man in green. and I knew it. Even if my father and other adults couldn't see it, I knew it. It was true for me, and I wasn't going to let anyone else decide my truth anymore. Who was a stranger and who wasn't? Who was an enemy and who was a friend. Oliver was my friend.

The man in green was my enemy, and no amount of punishment was going to change that. I snapped out of it when the man in green's fingers were just inches away from my face. I shook my head. and sprinted for the front door without looking back. I slipped inside with my eyes shut and cringing, waiting for pale hands that pull me back out into the night.

Yet, I locked the deadbolt and leaned against the door as easily as if I were alone. I could hear the TV on in Dad's Den, plates clattering in the kitchen. A sharp knuck-a-wrap at the door brought me back to my senses. I saw familiar shadow in the tiny window. Tell me your next. except my gifts, let me in.

The sooner that you do that, the sooner it'll be over. I heard the words in my head, over and over, like a high-speed mantra. Even though there was a wall between us, it sounded like the man in green was whispering directly into my ear. His attempts to get in were getting louder, pounding, mashing at the doorbell, scraping his nails on the glass, slamming himself against the frame so hard that dusk shut out. And then it was over. The shadow on the doorstep was gone.

But a new one appeared behind me. What on earth are you doing in the hallway? My mom swayed tipsily, backlit by the kitchen light. She had her apron on and there was a martini in her hand. Your father's working late. Dinner with clients, he says, again. She sighed. Come on, let's get you fed.

Okay, sure. I smiled to myself. I'll be writing, just got to do one thing first. I snuck upstairs to the phone in my parents' bedroom and called Oliver to let him know. I'd made it home safe.