CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I’ll never order from Amazon again" Creepypasta

Episode Date: February 22, 2021

NEVER.CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Ritsler: 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/CreepsMcPasta​CREEPYPASTA 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-

From world-wide top-merken to entrepreneurs that net begin, million-verterower on Shopify, Vercoop online, in your winkel, on Instagram, TikTok, and more. Allers from out one platform. Beheer your products, bestellings and betalings

and let alone. Shopify grew with you with you, every step of the way. Start today your gratis-proof-periodo on shopify. That is Shopify. combe. said for the age of modern convenience. As I listened to my boss

stroll on and on during our Zoom meeting, I thumbed through various items on Amazon that I didn't really need to buy, but felt compelled to. I had multiple orders on the way, and the highlight of my day had become receiving text alerts from Amazon with a little photo of my package leaning against my doorframe, the black arrow on the box greeting me with a smile. It was a feedback loop I'd come to rely on. Speak of the devil. My phone buzzed with a delivered alert. I had gotten a yoga mat and some other items for the apartment, and more were on the way.

My boss broke through my consumer haze. Martin, can we expect the report by the end of the day today? Damn, I had completely forgotten about the report. I unmused my mic and said, Yeah, I just need to add a little more to it, but I'll finish it up before I leave today. There was a gentle murmur of laughter. I was working from home, so I was working from home. so I wouldn't exactly be going anywhere.

Well, you know what I mean. Working from home continues to blur the imaginary boundaries I struggled and maintained between work and my personal life. Now, there wasn't much of a distinction between when I was on the clock or off. My desk space, where I'd play video games, browse the internet, and watch porn, had become the same place I'd take Zoom calls and respond to passive-aggressive emails. Thankfully, I had a work laptop that helped me mentally separate these activities. But I knew I would be working late, far past when the office would normally close.

After all, I was already home, wasn't I? The end of the workday didn't really exist anymore. I muted my cell phone and forgot all about the package waiting by the door for me. I finished cobbling together the report by 10pm, and by that point, my brain was so shot that I just decided to just watch some TV and go to bed early. It wasn't until I grabbed my phone to charge it, that I noticed. I had received six notifications from Amazon. I swiped to expand the text.

They were all for the same package, which had already been delivered. Confused, I thumbed over to the track package screen and noticed that multiple pictures had been taken of the same package and sent as updates. The light in the background of the photos had faded, and by the time the last photo was sent, it was dark out and my porch light was illuminating the package below.

What the hell? I whispered. I couldn't fathom why the delivery person would keep swinging by my door to let me know my package was still waiting there. I hadn't noticed it before, but by the last photo, the package was also orientated differently, as if the delivery person had nudged it closer to the door.

I didn't know whether to feel impressed or creeped out by the delivery person's dedication. I did live in a large apartment complex, and it wasn't unusual to see Amazon trucks coming and going at all hours in the day. But I never received more than one notification that a package had been delivered, let alone multiple photos of the same delivery. I quickly explained to myself that people were probably ordering more things

than usual during the cold winter months, so Amazon had been more vigilant about packages being stolen from doorsteps and went heavy in the notifications, so they didn't have to worry about searching for stolen or missing packages. It didn't explain everything, but it did make enough sense for the time being. I sauntered down my stairwell. I lived on the second floor and peaked out the window by the side of my front door.

It was dark out and I couldn't see much at all. I opened the door and pulled my box through the doorway. Not knowing what else to do, I called out a pithy, thanks, and closed the door. I rarely used my front door since my unit came with the carriage entrance, so I double-checked that both of the doors were locked. Well, at least I could finally start doing some exercise in my apartment with the yoga mat. I had gained at least £10 since COVID started making its rounds.

The thought of working out at a gym with a mask on had been unappealing to me, so I hadn't gone in months. I plugged my phone in so I could charge and slid into bed. I must have been almost dreaming when a text alert on my phone woke me up. I reached over to my nightstand, I felt a pang in my chest as I looked at my phone. It was another text from Amazon. When I thumbed over to what had been delivered, it wouldn't say. The field had been rendered blank,

but I could see a picture of a yellow mailer envelope leaning against my door. The photo quality was low grade, but the package looked a bit dirty for some reason. I was beyond perplexed. I'd never received an update in the middle of the night before and couldn't believe that was normal Amazon procedure. Maybe the delivery guy was legit. I slid my phone into Do Not Disturb mode.

It could wait until the morning. I woke up the next day to see 30 text notifications from Amazon, all containing photos of the same filthy yellow mailer. I watched as the light in each photo subtly changed from the dark of night to the bleed of early morning sun. There was no way it had been a glitch. Someone had been out there, taking photos of the same package of my door over and over again, all night long.

I went to my front door, checked the window, and emboldened by the morning light, opened the door and pulled the mailer inside. The envelope looked like it was covered in mud or something. I could see now that it had been hastily closed, like someone had been in a rush or didn't care much about the content within. I pulled the crooked flap open and looked inside the envelope. The hallway light above my head caught the glint of something, and I could tell that it was at least dark in colour. I turned the envelope upside down and let whatever it was inside tumble out onto the front door mat.

I leaned down, perplexed, and violently recoiled as I finally understood what I was seeing. There were teeth, bloody teeth. The envelope was full of them. So many, in fact, that I doubted they all came from one manner. What I had mistaken as mud on the envelope was actually dried blood. I stifled the urge to throw up and grab my phone to call the police. You'd think that maybe that would have been the end of things, but it wasn't. I went down to the station and made a statement, turned my phone over as evidence.

They must have gotten whatever they needed from it, because they gave my phone back to me. They said it would be a while before they could get more details about whoever the delivery driver might be, since they would need to talk to Amazon and start an investigation. I wondered if my act of touching the envelope had contaminated any possible prints they might have obtained, but surely whoever had left it there had been wearing gloves. I went back home, shaking up, and suddenly realizing how alone and isolated I felt. The police said they would patrol the area in case the person returned, and I could only imagine that most Amazon delivery vans in the area will be on some kind of watch-line.

list. Several days passed without any incident. Eventually, I saw the police less often in my neighbourhood, and that's when the fear started to grow. Any time I received a text, I felt a sudden panic, even if it was just my mom or a friend checking up on me. I went to have a groceries one night after work, and I just sat down at my computer desk when I heard my phone ding. I remained still, as if that somehow would keep the message obey. I gave in and looked at the message, and what I saw will haunt me forever. It was again an update from Amazon.

My pulse quickened as my finger expanded the message, almost like it was happening against my own will. But I just had to look. This time the photo was not of a package on my doorstep. No, it was a photo from within my apartment. from the bottom of the stairs by the front door. I leapt out of my chair and swung the door to my room shut and locked it. My hands trembled as I tried to return to the home screen.

Ding! Another photo, going up the stairs. Ding! Halfway up the stairs. I felt like I was moving in slow motion. Ding! The top of the stairs. I fell back in the chair and fumbled with my phone.

Desperate to doll 9-1-1. Ding I stopped frozen in my tracks as I looked at the last photo I could see myself sitting in my desk hunched over my phone

in the low light of my desk lamp a horrified look at my face the only thing behind my desk was a closet door with slats I stared at the darkness between the slats unable to move a thought jumped through my mind did I ever check the front door

when I came home from the grocery store. The photos I had just seen, they didn't have to be taken real time. They could have broken in when I was gone, taken the photos and sent the photos as though awaiting the closet, locked in the room with me. My muscles quivered as my body leaned

on the edge of the chair, pointed towards the door, I knew I had locked, and would have to, at the very least, fumble with for a few microseconds to open. I waited for a sign of movement, a sound, anything. The second I moved, I just knew that the closet door would fly open.

There was no way I was going to be able to leave the room without them getting in my way. My heart hammered. The darkness between the slats disappeared as a camera flash blinded me. My ears rang with a sound of my heartbeat as I launched myself at the locked door. I could feel a gust of wind on my skin as the closet door flew open, the sound of heavy feet pounding the floor as I popped the lock and yanked the door open. A figure, lumbering in my peripheral after me, every nerve and muscle in my body screaming for help. Something hissed through the air and sliced into the back of my shoulder.

I screamed, cried out for help. I borrowed for the stairs, felt my footing slip on the top of the staircase, and crashed down the stairs. I yelled out in pain as I collided with the front door. My head was spinning, but I could see the glint of the doorknop just above my head. I only had to reach up and twist the door open, and I'd be out in the open. night air, and there would be people outside, surely people that could hear my screams. I heard the figure bound down the stairs after me, dragging something sharp across the wall as they pounded the steps. I leaped to my feet, shuddering with fear, and opened the door

and dashed out onto the stoop. My heart dropped. There was a hooded figure standing there, wearing a mask. The mask was something I'd seen before. Simple, cardboard, a black, arrow smile. I'd seen it before many times. Before I could yell, something hard and heavy collided with my head. My head snapped back and I fell to the ground, dazed, coughing out a mouthful of blood between what felt like cracked teeth. I heard them laugh, a hearty chuckle as they looked down at me, the black arrow smile leering. I couldn't see any divining features, just a cardboard mask that had been repurposed from the delivery box, and where the eyes should have been, were dark scratched out exes.

My vision faded, and everything went dark. I woke up to an all-encompassing darkness. I couldn't see a single thing around me. I thought I was dead. I tried to yell and felt a piece of cloth wedge against my mouth to gag my efforts. I tried to move and found my limbs constricted. my hands and feet were bound together with something sticky I whipped my head around and felt tiny pieces

and what felt like foam move around I brushed out my knee and felt the border of something I tried again and felt the border bow against my knee oh god I was in a box a large box there must have been filled with packing material I could feel it contort around my shape as I buckled against the restraints what had I done to deserve this

What were they taking from me? I thrashed against the box. I thrashed against the restraint and felt light headed from the effort. There wasn't much ventilation in the box. I then noticed for the first time that I was naked. Why was this happening? I could hear a loud roar around me and recognised it as the whirring rumble of a car engine.

I was being transported somewhere. The car came to a stop. I heard the doors open and could hear the slight crunch of ground. travel as footsteps approached the back of the car. They opened the doors and drag my box out into the open. I bucked and screamed, drawing what felt like blood around my wrist.

I started choking from the gag. The box suddenly dropped and I felt my back collide with something hard which must have been the ground. Ding. Not my phone this time, but a doorbell. I heard laughing as footsteps went back to the car.

The door slammed closed. and the engine kicked alive again. The vehicle putted off, and I was left alone in the box, God knows where. I buckled against the box, tried to push my knees together into one side to tip it over, but I just rolled back toward the middle of the box with each fruitless effort. Suddenly, I heard a door open. A voice, an older voice, called back. Martha, what in the hell did you order this time?

My eyes sprang open. If they had left me alone here on this strangest doorstep, the nightmare was over. They had driven off. Whatever they wanted with me seemed to be finished. I was saved. The second the man opened the box, I would be safe. I roared against the gag and tried to buckle my knee against the box, but for some reason it didn't prompt the reaction I had hoped.

Had the all man left to go back into the house? Then I heard some footsteps. I heard a picking sound at the top of the box where my head was situated. I tried to push my forehead to the box to announce that I was there, trapped inside, but it was hard to get any kind of leverage. I roared into the gag, tried to push it out with my tongue. My muscles burned and I felt weak, helpless. The old man must have been hard of hearing and nearly blind,

because the only thing I could hear him say was, Damn tape is too thick. It'd be okay. Even if you couldn't see, you'll hear very well. It would be hard to ignore what he would find inside the box once he got it open. I just needed to calm down and collect myself. I would soon be free. And that's when I heard something sharp, pierced through the top of the box, mere inches from my nose.

I leaned back into the box, trying to stay away from the top, but the packing peanuts were keeping my head afloat. Another thrust into the top of the box. I tucked back, tried to reposition my head, but I couldn't. This time, I wasn't so lucky. What I can only assume was scissors, plunged. down into the box and dug into my right cheek. I screamed against the gag as I felt the blade grind against my cheekbone. The man pulled them out, and thank God must have noticed the fresh blood on the tip of the blades.

What the hell? The box shook as I could hear the flaps tearing open. I was blinded with the light of day as the man pulled the lid off my cardboard prison. Instead of remaining calm, I freaked out and threw inhuman motions, managed to tip the box over on its side where I rolled out onto the ground, naked and bloody. I stumbled to my feet as much as I could

since my hands and feet were bound together. I could feel blood cascading down my face from where I'd been stabbed. My chest was also covered in dried blood from the injuries I'd sustained earlier. I must have looked insane. I looked up into the old man's face and saw it twist into abject horror.

He fell back, clutching at his chest, Oh my God, I thought I just gave the old man a heart attack The old man dropped his bloody scissors I hobbled over to them moaning with muffled cries And cut through my restraints in the gag Finally pulling my mouth free from the gag

I approached the doorway and roared God damn it Martha Call 911 Into the house The police and ambulance came The two of us were admitted to the hospital And finally The nightmare ended

at least as much as it can for somebody that's always going to have to remember it. The police didn't ever find the two people who had terrorised me. What they did find was the dead body of an Amazon delivery driver rolled into a ditch outside of town and later an empty delivery van

on the side of the road. There were no prints left on anything and whatever information might have been acquired from my phone and Amazon's tracking devices wasn't enough to find them. I have a lot of questions. Surely someone at the depot would have noticed

when someone didn't come back from the shift. Surely someone would have noticed a missing delivery driver or a missing van. But you know what I've wondered about the most? The teeth in that envelope. I had questioned where they might have come from given how there were so many inside the flap. But now, I have an idea.

I hadn't noticed in all the commotion afterwards. But when I was rolling my tongue around at the hospital, I did feel a gap where one of my teeth used to be. I don't know if I lost it when I got hit in the face, but I think they took it when I was unconscious. A little keepsake to be sent to someone else. As for me, I'll never order from Amazon again or any other company. I refuse to take another chance inviting a stranger to my door. I know, they're still out there somewhere. And it could happen to anyone. Even you.