CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I'm not allowed to talk about Papswall" Creepypasta

Episode Date: October 7, 2020

Don't tell anyone.AUTHOR'S SUBREDDIT► https://www.reddit.com/r/Badfakesmiles/AUTHOR'S TWITTER► https://twitter.com/BFSWritesCREEPYPASTA STORY►by badfakesmiles: 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- Maxim Verehin: ►https://www.artstation.com/artwork/4b...►https://www.instagram.com/maxverehin/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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need to I've been keeping this a secret for years now. rot inside my soul, but I couldn't care less if it spreads and eats me alive. I kept it inside me, nurtured it and let it fester like a nasty cut. So now you're probably asking, then why are you suddenly revealing this to us now? To be frank, I'm not entirely sure. Maybe it's my hero complex.

That was the original reason why I trained to be an officer. I'm thinking, alarm the public. but I just probably, I still draw a reason. My name is Lance Becker. Not that it matters. I just think it's polite to know a stranger's name before a stranger's story. I used to work in a police station ten years ago. Now I own a bookstore near my apartment.

I told the chief that I was leaving because I wanted to pursue my artistic calling to write. I want to inject colour with every stroke, with every scratch of a pen. that's the BS I told them, I'm pretty sure they didn't buy it. If they did, they wouldn't still be watching me 24-7. No matter how much dirt you smear into those bumpers and windows,

I know a discreet government car when I see one. You see, I left the force for a reason I'm not allowed to discuss, a reason I couldn't discuss but I've moved past and haunted visions I'm ready to tell you what happened to Pap's Wall

it was June 26th 2008 I was in charge of the night shift together with me at the station was my good friend Brahm and the new girl Joanne Braham and I went way back in high school we considered ourselves particularly ordinary we grew up without any answers

to what we want our future job to be. We never aspired of being a programmer or an athlete, but at least I had some semblance of a goal or a dream. I've always wanted to join the Justice League. Be a hero, you know. Well, you can figure out how that went down. When the time came where we'd have to answer the question for real, backed up in the corner, Rome and I simply just decided to join the police force. Joanne's story is quite different. She wanted this position. She had that bright, starry how perspective of what it's like working as an officer. Didn't want to break it to her. She needed to figure that out herself. Not like that though. Not that phone call.

2.35am. We were all minding our business inside the station. The room would almost be pitch black if it wasn't for the warm light of our desk lamps. We'd only get up from our seats to use the bathroom, stretch or fetch coffee. Brom occasionally threw things like me to keep himself entertained. Whether it be stupid dad jokes, it was a 50- I needed a reason to turn my neck away from my computer anyway. It was a somewhat peaceful night. Until the phone beside me rang. Bram almost immediately groaned

because it meant we probably needed to do our actual jobs. Joanne bugged up, like a puppy hearing a treat bag shaken up. Me, I flinched. I got surprised. I never expected a call. at 2am, so I had to take a deep breath, by suddenly rising heart, before I could answer. The man's name was Peter.

Peter Ingram. He was a resident of a small neighbouring town named Papswall. The last time I checked, it had a population of only 300 or so. It was the seaside, so it was kind of a fishing place. People there were, traditionally, I like to say. Most of the town was still covered in wet soil, and the streets aren't I only got to visit the town

I was a kid and the only thing I remembered the smell of fish in the air they had their own police station if I could remember correctly so the call was very much odd and alarming that wasn't what gave the situation away though it was a loud panting

and panicked voice he had while talking to me he was stuttering catching his breath and trying his best to relay the situation I thought to myself. He must have killed someone. No, he might be in danger. Someone might want to hurt him. Was there a fire, a hostage situation? Is his family in danger in need of an ambulance? It wasn't any of those things.

A girl flew into the sky. That was word for word. What? Ani jerkily replied. He said that a girl was hoist. up to the sky. Lots of people saw it, and she disappeared in the dark, above them. The clouds, he mentioned them in detail too. It was unlike the clouds you typically see outside. It was kind of a blanket. He told me it was just one big sheet, the size of the whole town. No stars, no moon, just clouds. I turned the loudspeaker on so the two people around me could take a listen. Maybe, because I was

waiting for Bram to say it. And, of course he did. It's a bloody prank, Bram sneered. I gave a flat smile. Sir, I would need more details of your situation, I asked. Bram was running his finger across his neck and shaking his head. Peter proceeded to recount what happened. He told me that he was simply taking a cigarette on his porch, and people started running in the streets, shouting to get the residents inside their houses. He immediately complied out of panic. Within the safety of his windows, He saw a woman with a head up high Floating towards the clouds.

Sir, I need you to stay put. Lock your doors. We'll be there shortly. I simply responded without a second thought. You mental? Bram raised his voice. He got up and walked towards me To place his finger at the mute button.

This is a prank. He tilted and lowered his body to roll. reach my face. You seriously to drive out of town at three in the because the fish town gave birth to Supergirl? Before I could answer back with my own snarky comment, the phone call dropped.

Bram raised his eyebrows as he stretched and went back to his seat. I don't know. It sounded like he really needed help. Joanne was standing up the whole time, rubbing the tip of her fingers. Her eyes looked at me, waiting for my response.

Well, they shouldn't have hung up. I nonchalant replied. Joanne hadn't got a chance to sit down yet when the phone rang again. I put it on speaker. Where are you guys? It's been five goddamn hours. We all stared at each other in confusion. It was Peter again. Only this time his voice was shaking. The words couldn't escape his mouth anymore, unlike the first call. He sounded like his lips were quivering.

Emily My wife He proceeded to moan I asked him I asked him what's wrong And the words that came after Were most bizarre at the time Fish lines

They're hanging from the sky He described the town to be ridden With hooks dangling three to six feet off the ground They were all coming from the clouds hovering above their town They were spread unevenly Almost depending on the number of people

nearby "'all of our "'all of our faces "'and disgust "'as he proceeded to describe "'the supposed "'heates. "'He said the lines

"'had fat, yellow worms "'pierced on each hook "'resembling maggots "'the size of pups. "'They had beady black "'and blinking eyes "'decorated around its body. "'It dripped viscous fluid

"'to the ground beneath them, "'making puddles all over the street. "'My wife, Emily,' "'Peter continued, "'she was looking out of the window. She said her father still outside. Peter sobbed Uncontrollably.

So, did you get your father back in the house? Bram suddenly shouted from his desk, losing all sense of professionalism. I wouldn't blame him. At that point we were all getting dragged in this person's narrative. No, you don't understand.

Peter exiled. Her father has been dead for years now. Silence blanketed the room. All I heard from Peter was mumbling at Joanne and I looked at Joanne and it was easy to tell that we all got a little spooked out. I focused again and started to tell Peter to calm down. He continued. After Pete's wife went to open their front door, he said that she immediately ran towards one of the hooks and grabbed the worm.

She let it crawl inside her mouth, as Peter said, letting it squirm and go bulging down on a throat. down to a chest and disappear inside a fish in line. the fishing line was all that remained on a slime-drenched lips. So, before Peter could chase her down, the line tensed and word, making a sound of a strong guitar string before hoisting a wife up like she weighed nothing and disappeared into the clouds.

Peter told us that he was in shock and he didn't realise he was walking towards another hook. His neighbour from across the street shouted at him and snapped him out of it. His neighbour then proceeded to throw a walkie-and-heed-heed-heed-heed-heed-heed-a-coulded back, which Peter carried back inside the house. That was my good pal, Billy, he explained. I'm talking to him through the walkie. He told me that the hooks are reeling in tons of people from the town.

Dozens are going up by the minute. Like idiots, they get themselves snagged to be dragged up like dolls. I'm scared, officer. I'm just really, really... Peter continued to sob on the line. We need to go, Joanne interrupted. Well, you're full of beans. Where?

The whole damn thing seems a bit dodgy to me. Brom tried to refute. They need help. We need to do something. What? Something? I... Do you even know what the hell is going on?

I don't. Brom was on the brink of shouting. They raised their voice higher, injuring towards each other, trying hard to make the other person back down. I was as confused as both of them. but I had to intervene. we're going, although, they both,

they both, brah, was taking a deep breath, ready to say something that would probably have led me to a different decision. But I said no, before the words could even climb out of his chest. The light from our lamps wasn't enough to reveal the sweat,

beating on our foreheads, but also how her shoulders stiffened, how Joanne kept touching her buttons, and how Bram kept biting the skin off his lips. We were all wrapped around the sudden anxiety that we felt and noticed that Peter had already dropped the call. We felt the seconds of just sitting around press heavily on our chest. Okay, I gathered my thoughts.

Joanne, keep an eye on the phone. Contact the neighboring town's police departments. Insmouth, come with me. I can go. Joanne stopped me from fetching the keys from the rack. Well, she wants to go. Bram nervously smiled. I gave Bram a meaningful glare

that would etch the seriousness of the situation on his damn skull. I left the front door and started the car. Bram entered the vehicle almost in a trance. He kept bouncing his leg the moment he sat down, silently looking at the dark road ahead of us.

I had no words to say during the drive either. It was an hour-long drive to the town, but it felt like we came there much sooner than we let out a deep sigh. I let out a upon stopping at the road sign. Welcome to Papswell. Population 652. From our car, we saw windows and street lamps lit warm yellow orange amidst the dark and blue night. It was peaceful, quiet. We didn't want quiet, however. We both froze in place, unable to move a

and one, seemingly wanting, for the first one, hello, Bram shouted loudly as I could. I jumped, felt as if I was about to vomit

my heart out. Hello, someone, this is Ash. Bram, I called him out, whispering, What hell are you doing? I don't want to go. I don't.

His voice started to crack. He walked around in circles, his hands behind his neck. He then looked up. I knew. I knew, but I decided to shut up instead. I gave the most convincing chuckle I could pull out to my ass.

Dude, come on, it's probably just a prank, right? I smiled at him. He smiled back, enough to give me a bit of comfort, enough to push myself to walk past the first sign. Walking forward, the salty scent of the sea welcomed us with a cold hug. The people of the town, however, never gave us the same courtesy. The houses were all lit up, but not a single shadow can be seen inside the windows. The front doors were wide open.

They creaked and slammed, almost in sync, matching our every step on the soft, wet land. Brom's gun was pointed at every corner I shine my light. I was honestly getting more nervous about accidentally getting shot by him due to his nervous and snappy movements and heavy breaths. I looked back, despite the cold breeze. I wasn't a tough nut myself. I just needed to put a front until we met someone. Anyone. Hey, look, Lance.

No hooks from the sky. Yeah, no hooks. Honestly, I wasn't so sure if that was good or bad. We'd made some distance going inside the town. Our steps made crunching noises on the rocky ground, So I looked back when I looked at Bram wasn't taking any more steps. When I checked, he was looking down, his eyes wide open and his hands almost loose, ready to drop the gun. What's wrong? I asked.

I approached him and shy my light at his feet. My jaw slowly dropped, so did my heart. It was the puddle, the white, glistening, pool of gunk. Bram raised his foot, and the liquid dripped down off it like snot. I looked around, and it was everywhere. Every six feet, puddles of slime. And if our memories served us right, we both knew where it came from. I think we should leave, Bram mumbled, and I couldn't have agreed more.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from being fixated on the puddle. We briskly walked back. past several empty houses, yet the sign, nor the sign, was nowhere to be found. We started to walk faster, slowly transitioning to a sprint, until we caught ourselves running. We never took a turn, yet it felt like we were lost. The houses, the streetlights, the roads, and the puddles all looked the same. I was panicking, and kept on looking back to make sure Brahms were still following me. The last thing I'd want is to be alone in that godforsaken place.

At that point, we both knew that something weird was going on. we were going around in circles. The town seemed alive, morphing itself to keep us in. We just didn't want to acknowledge it. So we kept running. Even broke the most logical thing to do and started taking turns, left and right, looking for something different, an establishment, a shop, anything. But it was the same old empty wooden houses everywhere.

We stopped to catch our breath. Brom fell to his knees, digging his in the dirt. Lance, what's happening? He started to burst out in tears. I looked around while grabbing the hair from the back of my head, looking for a sign, looking for a way out, and something caught both of our attention. A phone was ringing inside the house on our left.

Where are you going? Someone might be able to help us, I replied. I pulled my gun out, before kicking it in. I didn't need to. The door opened up because of the wind, almost causing me to lose my balance from trying to kick it and trip. I called out for anyone inside the house. No response. I slowly approached the phone. It was a dirty white with a pink hand-stitched holder at its handle. I took a deep breath and answered. What blasted on my ears was the sound of a grating scream coming from a woman. No, hello, please stay putt.

I pulled back a little before I could recognise the voice. Joanne, I replied. Becca, she replied. How are you there? We're at Papswall. But how? You just left minutes ago. Everything was starting to spin around me.

What? I asked her. Lance, Bram called for me outside. It felt like a knife My smile was almost ear to ear. Joanne, have you been calling the neighbouring stations? No answer. The call already dropped.

I didn't have time to think about what happened and simply ran outside the house and followed Bram sprinting towards the car. When I got in to start the engine I noticed that he was still standing outside of the town. I lowered the window, but he wasn't answering. I got out of the car again. Bram, let's go, I called out.

I looked into the direction he was staring at and saw it. Something was glistening in the distance, just beneath a street lamp. Mom? He muttered. Every hair. and my body stood up. Bram, are you okay? I got nervous, especially when I saw him take a couple of steps forward.

My heart dropped, seeing him lean over, ready to run back to town. The adrenaline kicked in, causing me to grab and wrap my arms around him before he could start chasing after whatever that was. Brom, Bram, your mom's not here. She's back in England, remember? I whispered into his ear, holding him as he's. struggled. After a few seconds, he started to calm down. He looked at me, confused, as the why we were at the ground. Yeah, she is. We went inside the car and had a silent trip back to the station. We were still trying to process everything. I hadn't even told Bram about what happened when I entered the phone. He seemed lost in his thoughts that he never cared to ask anyway.

We got back to the station around 4 a. It was dark, but the sun was starting to peak on the horizon. When we arrived at the station, Bram asked me to go ahead inside. He wanted some time alone in the car. The feeling of confusion and dread still followed me inside the station. It didn't help that everything was so quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the buzzing of the air conditioner. I found Joanne standing.

and staring blankly while holding the phone while holding her shoulders. Joanne, I called her. I grabbed her She flinched her moment I touched her. Her eyes welled up and her legs started to get weak, almost causing her to fall on the floor. I was ready to catch her, but she quickly grabbed my desk and stood back up herself. No words were spoken between the three of us for the rest of the shift. It was safe to say that none of us got some proper sleep after going home too. The next day, men's suits were swarming inside the station. The chief called me in, and told me that some guys wanted to talk to me for an interview, to talk to the three of us.

The suits called us one by one in the interrogation room. Inside were four folders, one for each of our names, and another labelled K-7. They had their way with words, but to dumb it all down, All I heard was, shut up or die. It was pretty obvious that they had no idea or at least, or at least in any control of what happened. What they do have control over, however,

is information. This was ten years ago, and as far as I know, the town of Popswall was erased from the face of the earth. I heard it was nothing but a barren wasteland now. It's not on the internet, nor any map you could find. No one would ever remember its name, except for the three of us, I guess. Bram was the first one to resign, went back to England to stay with his family.

I resigned after, having to see the phone beside me every day became too much for me to handle. Joanne, she stayed, but I never heard from her for a long time. This kind of thing sticks with you. It haunts your very core. Nothing you can't escape. So, I let it eat me. It ate me up like maggots. Even though the suits tried the best, I still managed to save something from what happened. I got a copy of the recording of the calls.

It was my own sick, masochistic idea of trying to remember the 652 people that disappeared that day. I still play the recordings on loop before I go to sleep, but not all of them. Not until recently. Maybe this is the reason why I decided to tell this story. Why I decided to scratch the itch a little. Not to warn you of large clouds and dangling hooks, no. But because Joanne sent me something. Something I didn't need to hear. Maybe I just want someone, you, to take a glimpse at the horror we've been through. Not so much of a hero now, am I? I didn't need to know. I didn't need to hear the call that Jouan received that night after Brahmini left the station. But there's no pun in crying over spilled milk. The suits are coming for me now after this anyway. So, I just let it eat me. Let it eat my soul and let it eat my sanity.

Or, what's left of it. Start playback of recording. 26th, 2006-2008, 3.06 a.m. Click. Good morning. Asbury. Peter. Hello. I was talking Billy over the walkie. And he told me there might be a way out of... Static. Sir? Mr. Ingram?

Oh God. Billy's kid. He's outside. He's running towards a hook. No, Joey. Stop. Mr. Ingram, whatever you do, please stay putt. He grabbed his son. They're both being pulled up. God. Click, static. Billy. Billy. Silence. Click.

Satic. Billy? Sir? From the walkie. Peter, I... Who are you, people? Billy, where are you? What's happening up there? Hello?

In this thing screeching. What was that? Nothing matters now, Peter. What are you talking about? sobbing, Billy It's real, It exists

And it looks hungry Click of recording