CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "If you come across unattended body bags on the side of the road, do NOT stop" Creepypasta

Episode Date: November 20, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Eigengraulogy: 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►Jiuxun Jin: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/zO...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-

One wrong turn. That's all it took for us to come across the wretched scene I'll be attempting to put into words. Even though the memory of it all is still fresh in my mind, considering not a month has passed since then, I feel like I've come to terms with the fact that there's no real explanation for what we witnessed. And even if there was one, I don't think I want to know. Say whatever you want about curiosity, but when you witness something in the flesh that you know can't and shouldn't be happening,

Well, let's just say it's not easy for our brains to just ignore events and defy all logic. You'll find yourself desperately coming up with all sorts of excuses, just as I have, to prevent certain parts of your mind from being irreparably broken. It's easier to chalk it up to a dozen different things than to just admit to yourself that there are certain events, situations, things of a different kind of nature that we're just not equipped to process and accept. A part of me has made peace with it, knowing full well that this isn't something I will ever forget or shake off. It will always be there, like a smudge that can't be washed off or a floater in the corner of your eye.

The other part, however, has brought me here, to you. I don't consider myself a very bright person, but I'm not dumb enough to start pursuing something I can't even make sense of. I'm not the kind of guy to just round up a bunch of people, grab some Ouija board, the dollar shop and hit the road in search for answers, because that's how people get killed, if they're lucky. There's worse things out there, that much I'm sure of, and it always fills me with anxiety and dread when the realization hits that I don't know the extent of how bad they can truly be. So, while I might not be dumb enough when it comes to certain things, I think it would do more harm than good if I just assumed from the get-go that there isn't a single soul out there that might have some answers,

Clues, anything that could help, no matter how small and insignificant. Perhaps it is an unwise thing for me to do, but I've recorded all this so far, and I don't feel like stopping now. Earlier that day, I attended a housewarming party for a relative. My uncle, who also attended, offered to give me a lift when we left. It was the first time either of us had been to that town, and coupled with the fact that we hadn't talked or seen each other in a long time. Well, one thing led to another, and after a distraction here and another one there, it, as I said in the beginning, all it takes is one wrong turn. Attempts to reroute and find the right path were fruitless, as the devices we put so much blind trust into decided to fail at the worst possible time, as they often do. Despite the empty road and the woods that surrounded us on both sides, we weren't really concerned about our predicament.

It was the middle of the afternoon. The sun was out and we had a full tank of gas. At worst, we'd drive for a little more than we attended to. Oh, so we thought. My uncle, Thomas, slowed down as soon as we turned a corner and saw an ambulance in the distance, parked on the right side of the road, the same lane we were in. He hit the brakes before we even came close to it

when we noticed the first body bag. The thought of it alone still unnerves me. this body bag with someone or something clearly in it, just there in the middle of the road, and at a considerable distance from the ambulance parked up ahead, you might be thinking to yourself that there isn't much to this up to this point. After all, driving by a minor has severe accidents while on the road is something I'm sure we've all witnessed at some point, as well as seeing empties doing their work.

It's an everyday occurrence, like so many other things. The thing is, as soon as my mind, uncle stopped the car to better assess the situation we ran into. We realised a couple of things almost immediately. One, despite the evidence so far that there had been some sort of incident, meaning the body bag on the road, as well as evidence that spore the fact that some sort of help had been dispatched, which would be the ambulance in this case. There just weren't any signs whatsoever of anyone being anywhere near the scene.

Two, even from a distance, we could see that the ambulance's doors were left flung over. and all sorts of items and equipment appeared to be scattered about on the ground right next to them. If only there had been someone there to reassure us and just tell us where to go, to just let us know it was all under control. But there wasn't. And for some weird reason, it started to make me feel like, I, well, we, had some kind of application to do, I don't know, something about it. Maybe it was something to do with there being a literal,

dead body on the road, and my uncle and I seemingly being the only living souls in the vicinity, like we had to take charge or something, you know. Which, I know probably sounds dumb, but what would you have done? I'm not saying I wanted to do something about it, but I remember thinking about it and feeling very odd at the same time, almost as if the thought alone was being forced on me. Perhaps that's what the body bag in the middle of the road was. Some kind of bait to elicit pity and empathy. respecting the dead and such.

I asked my uncle what we should do. Without taking his eyes off the road, he turned the ignition back on and drove the car as slowly as he could towards the ambulance. He moved around the body bag in a way that he could only be observed from the driver's side. My uncle stopped the car once again for a brief period of time as he rolled down the window and took a better look at the body bag

now a mere few feet away from us. He remained like that for the car, for what felt like a really uncomfortable amount of time, just staring out of his window while I stared at the back of his head, trying desperately to get some sort of reading on him. Something's wrong, he finally said,

as he resumed his driving. I'm going to pull over next to the ambulance. You might be thinking, if that were me, I would have just kept going. Or perhaps you would have told him, had you been in my shoes, that the situation did not concern us in the least, and that there was no valid reason for us to hang around.

For the record, I did not want to be there at all. Every time my brain went over the information that there was a body bag with a body in it in the middle of nowhere, the more rattled I'd become. But the thing is, my uncle used to work as an EMT. He's never discussed it with me at length, but I've heard some stories here and there from my parents. He always knew how to remain calm and composed during the hardest of situations,

and I could see how quickly he shifted to serious mode when he said he'd be pulling over. I trusted his judgment. The other thing I'd also like you to take into account is that my uncle knew a fair deal of co-workers, even friends in some cases, that couldn't quite manage to cope with some of the things they'd seen on the job.

From depression and mental breakdowns, all the way to ending their own life, he'd lost several people over the years when he worked as an EMT. I believe that might have gotten to him more than anything else, so it wouldn't really surprise me if seeing the state the ambulance was in is what triggered something in him. Had this been a normal scene,

with police and EMTs in the area, he wouldn't have battered an eye and would have let others do their work. Whatever we got ourselves into, however, told a much different story, and the first thing that crossed my uncle's mind was, without a doubt, they might need help.

I hope you understand where he was coming from, because that's what he'd always been like all the time, thinking of the well-being of others above all else. Our slow but steady approach towards the ambulance had me on the edge of my seat the whole way through, as much as I tried to hide it. Distancing ourselves from the body bag on the road did not bring me any comfort as we got closer to the seemingly abandoned and recently rummaged through ambulance. Either of those things were as equally perplexing and unnerving. When my uncle finally positioned the car side by side with the ambulance, a couple of other cars immediately came into view, which we hadn't been able to see until then. A red car parked in front of the ambulance

and a police car parked in front of it at a rather odd angle. For a brief moment, I felt a sense of relief. Not only was the police on the scene, this was also an indication that there had to be more people around. we were definitely not alone. My hopes were almost instantly dashed when we realized that both of those vehicles were in pretty much identical state to the ambulances,

doors wide open with all sorts of items scattered about. No one in sight, not in any vehicle, or on either side of the road. My uncle switched the engine off and turned to me. If you want to step out of the car, you need to promise the do as I say. I nodded, and we both stepped out.

I stayed next to our car while my uncle went around checking the other vehicles. He didn't touch them or step inside them in any way. He merely observed them from the outside. He returned after a couple of minutes. I asked him if maybe this was a prank of some sort. He shook his head. Don't think so. I found some shell casings next to the cop car, shot recently.

I proposed the idea of a robbery. that had gone wrong or something similar. He once again shook his head and frowned, appearing to be slightly confused. No, I don't think so. There's valuables in both cars still, phones and wallets and such. Also, no real signs of struggle.

I asked him of other shell casings and the items that littered the road surrounding the three vehicles we found and whether those would constitute signs of struggle. He scratched his head. I'm not sure. Sure, he said, there doesn't seem to be any blood or signs of a real struggle.

As for some of the stuff on the ground, most of it seems to have been torn and broken intentionally. Not something you do in the middle of a fight or a shootout, but that's just my guess. We also discussed the possibility of an animal attack, but there wasn't any damage to the outside or inside of their cars, like scratches or dents, or signs that something or someone had been dragged to the earth on the side of the road that led into the water. words. The more we tried to make sense of it, the less sense it seemed to make. When I turned to face the way we had come from and saw the body bag, I turned to my uncle and asked if he could possibly tell us something. He promptly replied, no, which made me recall how some minutes before he'd been transfixed by it, right before declaring that something was wrong. When I inquired about it, he looked at me with a very serious and stern look, his gaze jumping from me. He was, he

from the body bag all the way back. It almost felt as if he was intentionally debating whether to answer me or not. Ambulances don't carry body bags, and neither does the police. Well, some do sometimes. But that? He pointed at it. That's not a normal-looking one. What if that's supposed to be, I could tell from a glance that it's definitely not something

any actual workers in the field would use. the washed off colour, the uneven placement of the zippers, that smell. The face I must have made prompted my uncle to say the following in response. No, it didn't smell dead. Trust me, I would know. I'm not even sure there's a body in there. But whatever it is, it has to be in some kind of other state. We're not going anywhere near it without knowing what it is.

I'm sure it wasn't intentional. But my uncle's reasonings only made me grow. more curious in regards to the content of the bag. After all, a body in a bag, especially in such a setting, almost feels like a mystery that's begging to be literally unraveled. Is it a man or perhaps a woman? Have they passed recently or long ago?

Would I even be able to tell? What about the cause of death? Natural, self-inflicted, an accident, or perhaps even murder? Would an average guy such as myself be able to pick up on those clues with a naked eye? and if I did, would I perhaps be the one to crack the case, so to speak, figuring out what happened to them and thus why they ended up there in that state? A loud pop brought me back down to earth, quite literally in fact,

as my uncle pinned me down behind her car almost instantly. Jesus, he said, that was a goddamn gunshot right now. A chill ran through me. Another gunshot followed right after. I'd never been in a situation. situation, anything close to it, but I could still tell that we weren't being fired at. The sound was coming from the woods, but it seemed to have stopped after the second one. I asked my uncle what we should do next.

He hesitated, and I'm sure he considered just getting back into our car and floor it out of there, but that didn't end up being his call, not this time. I need you to stay put, he said. I told him no. Listen, I've got a license to carry. I yelled no, angry that he'd be willing to put himself at risk for who knows what, and angry at myself and knowing that there was no helping it. That's just how he was.

I said I'd come along with him, not because I wanted to, but because I hoped that I'd be forcing his hand and make him stay and just drive the two of us out of there. Hell, I would have done it myself if I knew how to drive. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed when he finally agreed to have me come with him. Although, I'd like to think, it just showed how willing he was to trust me in having his back. He retrieved the sick shooter from the car, and we cautiously entered the woods as we made our way towards the source of the gunshots. My uncle walked in front, and I clung to him, almost like a shadow.

We didn't speak a word to each other from the moment we stepped into the wooded area, as we didn't want to alert anyone that might wish us harm, but also because we had to be extremely alert to any unusual sound cues. There came a moment where he stopped and I almost bumped into him. He raised his hand in the air, signaling me to hold. He signaled to me to not say or make a sound and to follow him as he started heading in a different direction. I mouthed, why? To which he answered by pointing at something on the ground.

Not 20 feet from where we stood. It was a nearly identical body bag, one that was a very identical body bag, one that was a weird reason felt extremely out of place the longer I looked at it. My uncle grabbed me by the arm and finally forced me to take those first few steps into our new trajectory. I don't think five minutes had passed when we started to hear someone's voice, yelling and screaming at weird intervals, although we couldn't quite make out what was being said. The sound led us to a clearing of sorts, and, at its centre, with his back facing us, stood a man unmoving.

I could tell even from where we were standing at his clothes were unmistakably those of a policeman. My uncle, widely sensing that a wave of relief was washing over me upon seeing the policeman, placed a hand over my mouth, no doubt making sure I wouldn't be calling out the man, almost as if by natural impulse. He then made some basic gestures

that prompted me to look at the man again and do a double take. He was holding and pointing his hanger, at something had appeared to be on the same level as the ground. I nodded to let him know that I understood. We took cover behind a tree that was thick enough for the both of us. My uncle held me firmly against it, as if to say, don't come out and into his line of sight. I agreed to it, but gave him a wary look, as I knew what he'd be doing next.

We breathed in, but just before he stepped out from cover to let the other man know of his presence, another gunshot was fired, one which had come undoubtedly from the policeman. No, we heard him shout. No, stay down, stop. I feared for my life, but I was also more confused than anything. One look at my uncle, and I could tell that we both knew the man was neither firing at or talking to us. After a few more gunshots and unintelligible screaming, we could tell that he had run out of bullets due to the incessant cocking and attempts at firing,

his empty gun. My uncle decided this was the best opportunity to let his presence, as well as mine, by extension, be known to the man. Even though I knew his gun to be empty, I nearly peed myself when he turned around to look at us and took aim without any hesitation. His hair was dishevelled, his clothes dirted with both earth and pools of sweat, and his eyes, almost bulging out of their sockets, gave him a seriously deranged look. That and so much else made it look. That and so much else made it look like he'd been lost in the woods for days or even longer. I couldn't begin to imagine what could have led to someone breaking down in this manner. He studied us with his unblinking gaze, as if trying to discern whether we were really there or not.

He aimed his gun at my uncle the moment he opened his mouth, trying to reassure him that we were not a threat to him. He mentioned the vacant cars we had come across, the gunshots, and that we had come to see if anyone needed help. The man appeared to lower his gun. if only slightly. You didn't see them, he asked. We didn't see anyone on the road, which we found very hard. My uncle replied. No, he said.

That's not true. That's not possible. You didn't look. My uncle paused for a moment before continuing. We looked around. There was nobody there. Otherwise we wouldn't be here. No, no, look, he yelled, pointing at the ground.

You don't see them? my uncle and I were instinctively drawn to look at whatever the man was pointing at. And that's when we finally noticed certain uneven shapes and patterns on the ground and inert, right next to the man. A half dozen of those same identical body bags, each one sealed with a humanoid figure within. You, said the man, you didn't look, you didn't see? He started walking towards us. A branch snapped somewhere close to us. you didn't look, you didn't see, he continued, almost in a sorrowful tone.

He threw his gun away on his way to us and brought his hands to his face, as if to prepare for an incoming stream of tears. We still didn't have a clue of what this person had been put through, but there was no doubt that they were far from being all right. My uncle didn't move a muscle. He stood his ground and opened himself up to the man coming our way, arms wide. The man holding back his sobbing as much as he could was receptive to my uncle and hugged him tightly almost as if he hadn't been in contact with anyone else for a very long period of time My uncle looked at me as he gave the man some words of comfort

Letting the two of us know that it'd be all right Another branch snapped around us Much louder this time The man then grabbed my uncle's head with both hands And whispered something in his ear Whatever he said made him react in a way I'd never witnessed before. He shoved him back as hard as he could, making him fall straight on his back rather effortlessly. What shocked me the most was in my uncle's unusual display of strength, but rather the horror plastered all over his face.

They don't stay down, the strange man said, still on his back. Make a run for the car, my uncle said to me, without even looking in my direction. This was a mistake. We're getting out of here. More branches snapped all around us. Go now! yelled. I must have ran like the wind, because the next thing I knew, I had reached the car and nearly collapsed next to it from the sudden exertion. I looked around after catching my breath and took notice that nothing had changed from the moment we had entered the woods.

I couldn't quite tell how much time had passed since I had made it back, because the incessant pounding in my head and chest kept me from worrying about anything else. My uncle eventually emerged from the woods, but he didn't seem to be in any hurry whatsoever. Regardless, I got in the car and opened the door for him, urging him to join me so we could get the hell out of there. He sat down and looked straight ahead.

His hands rested on his lap. One of them held his own handgun. I could smell the gunpowder, but I didn't ask about it. it. I'll be right back, he said. I didn't know what to say, so I kept quiet. He went to the back of the car and popped the trunk open. I didn't know what he could be possibly looking for at such a time, but I was more worried about keeping my eyes on either side of the road just to make sure that nothing was pursuing us. I kept looking in the rearview mirror, which was a rather pointless

thing for me to do, seeing as the trunk of the car prevented me from getting a good look at him. When I finally decided to stick my head out of the window to look back, I yelled out a mixture of shock, horror and surprise. My uncle was walking towards the body bag in the middle of the road at a steady pace. I knew right away that there was nothing I could do to get me to reach him in time. I still tried. I ran, tripped, fell, got back up and ran again with whatever strength I still had left. By the second time my legs failed me, my uncle was facing my way as he crouched on top of the body bag, his free hand reaching for one of the zippers that held it shut. I could see him go through the motions as he unzipped it all the way and slowly uncovered it. He looked at me almost as soon as he

did, and even with somewhat of a distance between us, I read it all on his face. There was an attempt to shake his head, almost like a sudden twitch. But, I knew what he meant. No, don't. The very next moment, something came in between us that severed the eye contact that we had momentarily established. The body bag, or whatever was in it,

sat up in the blink of an eye, as if to meet my uncle face to face. He then fell backwards, lifelessly, dragging my uncle back down along with it and into it. As hard as it is to describe it, there's no other way for me to put it. He fell into the body bag, not out of sight or into the ground or some kind of sinkhole,

but into that thing, as if he'd been gobbled up, despite the fact that the volume of the body bag hadn't changed in the least. As far as I could tell, it remained shaped like a singular person, not multiple. I waited for something to happen, anything that could clue me in as to what the hell just happened and what I should do.

I lost track of time once more, incapable of being able to properly process what I had just witnessed. After what could have been either five minutes or five hours, the body bag shuffled little to its left and then to its right. It continued to do this for a little while until it positioned itself sideways. It did this so it could let something out from within. I could tell right away that it wasn't my uncle, but an identical copy of the body bag that had just spitted out, just like all the other ones we come across in the woods. That was the last time

Any of them moved Even now I'm not sure when Or even how I did it But apparently I got up and started walking at some point At least that's what the patrol car that picked me up said That I'd been walking aimlessly on the road I was interrogated at length

By all sorts of different people Always asking the same questions My uncle has yet to turn up Not that I think he will I told them by the body bags, but they always got real quiet when I brought them up. They did in fact confirm a multitude of things which lets me know that they know I'm not crazy, but more importantly, that I know I'm not crazy. The vehicles were all retrieved, but the EMT personnel are indeed missing,

as well as a family of four to whom the red car belonged to and two on-duty officers. And... My uncle, they do not seem to have any answers for me, and I'm not too keen on seeking them out. Whatever it was that my uncle saw, his regret and terror was instant and abundantly clear the moment we locked eyes. And despite all of that, he still used up what I assumed were his final moments to do what he always did best. And that was, saving others, whichever way he could. Do not come, do not look. One of the investigators did tell me.

something that I regret hearing to this day. When we were discussing the body bags and I was asked to meticulously describe them as best as I could, she asked again if I really hadn't seen anyone else out there, with the exception of the derange cop that we briefly interacted with. I told her the truth, to which she replied that they did a clean sweep of the entire area over the course of several days and had found that several of the unidentified footprints

found both on the inside and outside of the cars. we discovered all over the road and all throughout the woods. There had to have been hundreds of them out there, if not more.