CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "If You See a Giant Owl Statue in the Forest- RUN" Creepypasta

Episode Date: March 10, 2022

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Jgrupe: 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►Joshua Dunlop: 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-

This all happened about five years ago. Still, the memories of it linger and the nightmares persist. The details of everything are so clear in my mind. The sights, the smells, the feeling of my pounding heart as I run for my life, terrified. I've never spoken about this to anyone. Until now. So, here goes. The Pacific Ocean was at my back and the sound of crashing waves.

could be heard receding behind me as I trudged along the uphill path through the trees. The air smelled like saltwater, kelp and pine needles. You're not going to believe this place, Gilbert said, walking a few paces ahead of me up the trail. He was wearing well-worned fisherman's overalls and thick rubber boots which went up to his thighs. I don't want to oversell it, but I promise you, you won't see anything like this again in your life. I didn't realize at the time what he meant by that, but I'd find out soon enough. When we came into a clearing, I saw a beautiful freshwater bay.

The lake was clear and aqua blue, peaceful and utterly silent, aside from our echoing voices and the occasional call of birds in the distance. A bald eagle was perched on a nearby tree watching us from above. Mountains stood on the horizon, their peaks hallowed with. with mist, making the place look picturesque and stunning. My trip to British Columbia had revealed many of the most beautiful views I've ever seen, and this one topped them all. It's beautiful, I said to Gilbert, awe-struck.

I can't believe how clear the water is, and how blue. It really is amazing, you see all those cottages over there? He asked in his thick French-Canadian accent. I looked around and saw several of the waterside houses, although I wouldn't call these monstrosities cottages. They were more like mansions. Most were well hidden among the trees, despite their size, with impressive decks and landscaping. Large boats sat in the water, bobbing up and down in the waves.

Wow, the people in this lake must be rich. I thought you were all alone here, so far out in the middle of nowhere. Gilbert was a former chef who lived in a float house in an ocean harbour, which was only accessible by boat and prop plane. It took us three hours to get there on this boat the day prior, but it had been worth it. He had an incredible setup that allowed him to live almost entirely self-sustainably, with prawn traps set everywhere, oysters galore,

and some of the best fishing I'd ever seen. It was a seafood lover's paradise. He even went scuba diving for scallops. But this lake was the hidden jewel of his location, he said. These are summer houses for a lot of wealthy politicians and celebrities actually. Believe it or not, they're emptying 90% of the time. But every once in a while, someone drops in by prop plane or helicopter and spends a week on the lake.

It's off-season though, so nobody's out here right now. I'm taking care of the properties on the lake, and anybody who's coming in calls ahead so I can get it ready for them. Stocking the place with firewood, making sure the gas is on. You know, whatever needs to be done. I let out a soft whistle. That meant he had access to every one of these huge mansions and basically had free reign of their amenities for the majority of the year.

Wow, this place is something else. The lake was one of the most beautiful I'd ever seen and I could understand why rich people would flock to it from afar. Mist was rising off the surface of the water and, despite the grey, overcast day, I was excited by the location, which was so unlike any I had seen. It looked like it was a picture from a calendar or a screensaver. Just wait until you see the fishing, he told me with a smile.

We got to his small aluminium boat and he pulled the cord on the outboard motor. It rumbled to life and it began to steer us out into the heart of the lake. It was larger than expected, extending several kilometres into the desert. distance. There were also islands in the middle of the water, which had a couple of different summer homes built on them. I asked Gilbert who the houses belonged to, but the motor was roaring so loud he didn't hear me, or pretended like he didn't. He slowed down at a strange place in the water. I realized, as we were getting closer, there was something off about it. The water was bubbling and moving, as if being disturbed from underneath.

A stretch of about 50 square yards was all affected in the same way. See that, Gilbert asked, pointing at the section of water with a strange disturbance. Yeah, what is it? It looks like the water is boiling. This is what we came out here for, he said, pulling out his fishing rod. That's what I call a trout-feeding frenzy. He handed me a line and I was about to cast it out. but then I noticed there was no bait on it

can I get a worm or something I asked he just shook his head smiling a motion for me to put the line out into the water there was an immediate hit and I began to fight with a fish that had been hooked wow he don't even need bait I reeled in one after another until we had more than enough for dinner

he told me it was like this all the time on the lake, the best freshwater fishing location he'd ever seen in his life, and it was full of rainbow trout as well, which made it all the better. The rich people used to come up here, used to pay to have the lake stocked with rainbow trout, but nobody really fishes it but me, so they got a bit out of control. There's a multitude of them now. You'd think that fishing without any challenge would get boring fast, but it doesn't. Still, there's only so many you can catch before you get tired and start to feel like there's

no possible way you could ever eat so many. Gilbert reassured me, saying he can't whatever excess he caught. We were about to turn back when I looked over at a nearby island. To my surprise, I saw something looking back at me. I gasped in surprise at the strange sight. was a massive owlhead poking up out of the trees, staring at me, unmoving. I actually screamed when I saw it, and Gilbert followed my gaze and turned to look as well. What the hell? What is that thing? Is it real?

It was terrifying, whatever it was. The face was staring at us with a lifelike expression. It's not moving. Is it a statue? Have you never noticed that before? I asked. I knew how you how much. here all the time?" He shook his head. I don't remember ever seeing that before. Whatever it is, it's big. That's got to be fifty feet tall.

Gilbert started the engine. Let's go take a look. Maybe it's an old indigenous statue or something like that. I hesitated, feeling slightly irked for some reason. Okay, but just, let's turn around if anything feels off, okay? Unsure, what exactly I was scared of? began heading towards the island, the small outboard motor kicking up a cool mist which splashed my face and wet my hands. My heart started pounding faster in my chest and in my throat

as we near the strange pair of eyes overlooking the top of the tree line. Eventually it disappeared into the boughs and leaves again and I was left with the eerie after image of it in my mind. Those eyes staring menacingly outward, her face too large to be real. As we came close to the shoreline, I realized how completely alone I was. Gilbert seemed nice enough, but I barely knew him. I had met him through my cousin who was visiting

and who had flown across the country to sea. She had arranged for me to stay with him in his float house on a whim, since she was called into work last minute and he was in town on a supply run. She told me it would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Of course, now I was wondering how well she actually knew Gilbert, as it would turn out. Not very well at all.

Something about this didn't feel right, I was slowly realizing. Something about Gilbert's overall vibe was making me uneasy, as he helped me off the boat just a little too eagerly. There used to be tribes of indigenous. people who lived off the land and fished in this region. I bet it's an old totem pole or something like that. This could be a huge discovery, good eye noticing it. The noise at the engine was gone now,

and we were left in complete silence again as he tried to lead me away from the boat towards what appeared to be a path into the forest. Hey, maybe... Can we go back? I'm not feeling well, I lied. My stomach is upset. Don't be silly.

Come on, it'll just take a minute. It looked like it was just up the hill here. I tried to shake off the feeling of paranoia and half succeeded, then began to follow after him. I looked back over my shoulder at the boat and thought I could always run back to it and use it to escape if I needed to. This path looks pretty well worn, I said, catching up to him.

Maybe the folks who lived in those summer houses know something about the statue. Yeah, look up. be, I'll have to call up a couple people and see if we're the only ones to have found this place. It was pretty visible from the water, but maybe just from that one angle. That one spot that you chose the fish, I thought to say, but didn't. We came over a ridge, and sure enough, there it was again. Only this time, we could see the whole thing.

Up ahead of us, in a clearing, was a massive, towering statue. of an owl. It had to be at least 50 feet tall, maybe more. It was difficult to judge, but this was no totem pole. It was as wide as a house at its base, standing, imposing, and impossibly way out here in the middle of nowhere. At the base of the huge, terrifying owl statue was what appeared to be a dais, pulpit, pews,

and an altar off to the side of the lectern. That was when I noticed There were people Watching us from near the statue Their clothing blending in with a bark of the trees I saw several figures in brown-hoded robes Their faces shrouded in darkness Moving slowly and deliberately

They produced long, sickle-shaped knives From their deep pockets And began to march towards me I looked horrified towards Gilbert's face He was wearing a knowing one lock, saying that I had been right to not trust him. He didn't appear surprised to see any of this, and he didn't even bother to try and stop me when I ran, screaming. Instead, his head just turned on a slow swivel, watching me go. I turned and bolted back towards the motorboat. My shoes

crunched the dry leaves and pine needles under my feet. I nearly slipped in a mud puddle as I sprinted as fast as I could, too terrified to look back and see if Gilbert was chasing me. just assumed he was. But by the time I got back to the boat and ventured to look back, I realized that he wasn't close behind me. However, that didn't mean he wasn't still following me and hiding in the trees. I tried to start the engine and realized why he hadn't bothered to put much effort into stopping me. The outboard motor's pull cord was missing. Without it, there was no way to start the engine. Gilbert, a sly asshole, had customised the motor with a clip on starter cord that he could

easily remove without it even being noticed. There were no oars in the boat either, which meant I was stuck. Unless, of course, I could swim across the lake, which I didn't think I was capable of. I'm not a strong swimmer by any stretch, and it was at least a kilometer to the other side, if not more. The sun was beginning to set. noticed, and I looked around the lake to see if there was some other way to escape. That was when I saw all the figures standing on the shoreline across the water.

In front of each summer house, there was a dark silhouette looking out at me across the lake. Dozens of them were staring at me in the waning light of the evening. The sounds of motorboats being started up at the same time echoed across the still surface of the lake, and each of them moved in unison towards their very very. I knew, without a second thought, whoever these people were, they were coming for me. That altar beneath the giant owl statue, that was meant for me. I was going to be their sacrifice. You picked the wrong week to come visit.

Sorry, Gilbert said behind me in his thick accent. Once a year they all come here for their meeting. I get a bonus if I can find someone for the ceremony. your cousin didn't know, to a credit. I'll have to tell her there was a boating accident, something like that. The chubby red-head man in her rules laughed, his gut bouncing up and down. He didn't look at the least bit sorry. A moment later, they arrived.

I saw at least a dozen at first, maybe more. They pulled their boats into the shallows around the island and got out in hip waders, similar to what Gilbert was wearing. I couldn't believe the faces of the ultra-famous people who came towards me from the water's edge. Celebrities, politicians, musicians and pundits. People you wouldn't believe if I told you. All of them in brown, hooded robes. I turned and ran, dodging Gilbert's grasp as he reached out to stop me.

You won't get away, he said after me. He called after me, cackling. They're all over the island by now. There's nowhere to run. Ignoring him, I raced down the path through the woods. Stumbling, I landed in a puddle of mud with leaves floating in and pull myself up quickly, continuing back towards the other end of the island, towards more certain death. I didn't know what I'd hoped to achieve.

Gilbert was right. I was doomed. Looking back, I saw the group was not far behind. Running up the steep hill, I hoped maybe I could lose them once I reached the top. by veering off into the trees for cover. That would be my only hope. Darkness was settling on the island, and it was becoming more difficult to see my way

as I tripped over roots and ruts in the ground. Finally, I reached the top of the hill and immediately ducked into the trees to the right, hoping to lose them in the twilight darkness of the trees. The sounds of voices coming after me made me run faster than I should have, and I suddenly found myself tombling over the edge of the precipice I hadn't noticed up ahead.

I landed hard, hitting my head on a rock. Instantly, everything meant black. I woke up, tied to a slab of rock, cold beneath my back. My wrists and ankles were bound tightly, and I couldn't move as someone spoke loudly nearby, sounding as if they were mid-sermen, speaking some dark prayer in a demented church service. craning my aching head upwards, I looked around to see

I was now directly beneath a giant owl statue tied to the altar which I was laid out on top of. A man in a brown robe was on the dais speaking loudly to the assembled crowd watching from the woods. Each audience member held a torch which flickered and cast them in a warm glow. Through the trees I saw the moon hovering just above the horizon bloated and crimson.

The priest who had been speaking to the crowd finished his dark sermon, and the congregation began to cluck their tongues in response. It was the most unsettling thing I had ever heard. There were hundreds of them, all watching me, clucking their tongues inhumanely as they held candles and observed the priest. Sweat was pointing from my brow and into my eyes as they darted my gaze around the forest, looking for any possible way to escape.

I pulled on the bonds holding me to test them, but they were fastened tightly in place. Disciples of Moloch, we have gathered here under the blood moon to give us sanguine sacrifice to him. May our offering please him and give us favor in his eyes. The crowd responded, chanting something in reply, which is indiscernible, since their muttering voices all mingled together. I realized they were ramping up to killing me, and if I was going to escape it, it would have to be soon.

All eyes were still focused on the priest and the dais, and it would be my only chance to get away. I felt something tugging at the ropes on my wrist and heard a sound coming from behind me. I realised it was the sound of a sore cutting through the bindings. Stay still, act like a nod ear, the voice said from behind me. If they catch me, they'll kill both of us. Despite the man's words, I couldn't help looking back and seeing his face. He was wearing a brown robe like the others. Are you one of them? I asked. Why are you helping me?

I'm not really one of them, he said, finishing with the rope on my right hand and moving to the other. I'm a reporter. I've been working for years to infiltrate this place and finally did it. I was filming this whole ceremony, but I had to stop to save you. I couldn't just let them kill you. Thank you, I said, overwhelmed with relief. Really, I mean it. I'll pay you back with this somehow. once we get out of here, if we get out of here, he said, finishing cutting the bond holding my wrist. Okay, here's the tricky part, the boy said from the shadows behind the altar. As soon as we start cutting those ropes on your legs, they're going to see us doing it.

I realized he was right. From the dark place behind me, he'd cut the ropes holding my wrist, but my feet were facing the crowd. Everyone would see him if he ventured into the front of the altar to cut the ropes. So, what do we do? An explosion suddenly boomed in the distance, and the orange glow of a fireball bursting into the air caught everyone's attention. We'll need a distraction, he said, moving down to my legs, sticking close to the altar to avoid detection. Like that one, tried to get the rope free from the other leg, quick. I sat up and started working on the ropes, finding them tight, tight in knots like I'd never seen.

Luckily, the whole audience and the priest at the front was still distracted by the giant cloud of smoke rising in the distance. The last thing people like these wanted was to be seen, and even as far from civilization as we were, an explosion like that could attract attention. The priest was shouting at his accolades to find out who was responsible for the blast. But suddenly, someone noticed us. A voice began to shout from the audience. someone is trying to free him, a traitor. Murmoring and cries of outrage rang through the trees and suddenly the huge crowd of people were racing down towards us

through the woods like an evil mob torches in hand. The priest turned from his place on the stage and pulled out a long knife from a sheath around his waist. He walked in our direction just as the ropes gave way and I rolled off the side of the altar. Run, shouted the man who had cut me loose. He bolted off to the trees and I followed after him.

We ran through the trees towards the shoreline where a boat was waiting, already running. Another figure could be seen moving along the shore towards the boat and I realised they looked familiar. As we got closer, I saw he was my cousin. It was her who had set off the explosion. Grace, what the hell are you doing here? There's no time, get in the boat.

We all jumped in and she steered the boat. towards the other end of the lake. I was surprised they see nobody following after us and we managed to get to the ocean before anyone found us. It turned out Grace had sabotaged the expensive boats which would have easily outrun us as well as having blown up one of the larger vessels

with a homemade bomb. What the hell was that? I asked my cousin after we were safely away from the ceremony. How could you leave me there with that maniac? It turned out Gilbert and the cult who had tried to kill me, weren't the only monsters that day. My own cousin sent me up just for a story. She knew what was happening on the lake and used me as bait to see if they really would go through with killing a human sacrifice.

If it hadn't been for a partner, I would have died. But he couldn't go through with it. I live in fear now, wondering when exactly the powerful people who try to kill me will come to find me. I'm sure it won't take long once this is out. After all, I saw their faces. I know what all of them are capable of. They like to live in the shadows. They don't want you to know what they do when you're not watching.

But I've... seen everything.