CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I'm So Sorry..." Creepypasta

Episode Date: June 17, 2020

Please, forgive me.CREEPYPASTA STORY►by _theglobetrotter_: 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- Chenthooran:►https://www.artstation.com/chenthooran►https://www.deviantart.com/chenthoora...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-

Oh, my young, that I'm in three days. I'm a moor as I'm more on think. Oh, that to seeer that morning off must. I'm all mooh as I'm not on think. Oh, this is all moor, oh, I'm all moor as I'm on thinking. Have you it mollick, on upgown to come? Give you yourself then a boost with biocure maxhot liquid. Three op-puppendant plants, magnesium,

iceer, an energy booster to immediately again to can clallet. Bio-cure, Max-Shot Liquid. Foodingsupplement, forcry, but by the apotheker. I've always been overly protective of my daughter, Charlotte. As soon as I laid my eyes upon her for the first time, I knew I would do anything and everything to keep us safe from harm. With that being said, I hope that you can understand why I'm doing this by the end of my story.

Two days ago, on Wednesday evening, I sent my daughter out of the house. The tale of her black cat costume bounced as she ran down the driveway to meet her friends. who waited patiently on the sidewalk. Charlotte had just recently turned 13. She was a teenager now. My wife, Samantha, had always been a bit more open

to letting our daughter live her own independent life. Sam, with Charlie's help, convinced me that she was ready to travel around the neighbourhood on her own for Halloween. I wanted to keep my daughter safe, yes, but I'd always been conscious of how overbearing I could be. In an attempt to make up for my overprotective tendencies, I agreed with them this time.

We lived in a great neighbourhood anyway. I had nothing to worry about. In our town last year, trick-or-treating occurred on the night before Halloween, October 30th. It was a last-minute decision by those who were in charge of that kind of thing. A massive rainstorm was coming through the night of Halloween. The storm would have ruined the holiday for these kids. so I'm glad that Charlie got to have that experience while she could. Sam and I sat on our front porch,

waiting patiently for another child to make their shy journey of our driveway. It looks like it's going to rain tonight after all, Samantha said, leaning forward and looking up at the sky. Charlie's been out for almost an hour now, I said, glancing at my watch. Even if it does rain, I imagine she won't be that disappointed. Sam scoffed, shrugging. It's like you don't even know your own daughter, she said, laughing. That girl can down candy like it's nothing.

I smiled, turning my attention to the end of the road. A small boy, no more than four years old, waddled around the corner, his body surrounded by a large, poking costume. His parents walked slowly behind him, jutting quietly as the sun moved down the road. God, look at it. him, Sam said, a pang of sadness in a voice. He's so adorable, Ryan. I smirked.

We could make a hell of a pie out of him. Sam ignored the joke, turning towards me. We should have another kid, Ryan. I sighed softly, sitting up in my chair. We'd had this conversation many times before, but several months had passed since we'd talked about it last. Don't you think it's a little late, for that? I mean, if the gears are still running, she started shrugging. I don't see why we

shouldn't. It's just, Charlie's getting old, so fast. She'll be gone soon. You still have plenty of time, Sam, I said, rubbing my wife's arm slowly. She's not going to college tomorrow, you know. Sam hummed softly, looking out towards the driveway. The little boy was moving up our yard, his bucket of candy in hand. The boy began to walk slower than before as he noticed that he was being watched Wow, look at you Sam said, leaning forward in a chair

as the boy approached The parents smiled politely at my wife As the boy stood silent What do you say, Lucie? The mother said, looking down at her son Trick or treat The boy said, hardly getting the words out Well, we just gave out a lot

last trick, Sam said, repeating the same joke she'd used for most of the night so far. So, I guess, we'll just have to give you a treat then. The little boy smiled, stepping towards me. I leaned forward, holding the large orange bowl of candy out towards him. His tiny hand reached into the bowl, taking out a single, fun-sized Snickers bar. The pumpkin took a step back, dropping the candy into his pail. Oh no, Sam said, laughing. you have to take more than that. The boy looked back to me for a moment before stepping forward once more,

reaching back into the bowl. I couldn't help but smile as the boy began to rummage through the candy. He clearly had his favourites. Footsteps sounded from up the street. It sounded as if someone were running. Sam looked up at the parents from a chair, starting a conversation as the boy

continues to pick through our candy. My eyes moved down the road as the footsteps grew nearer. Charlotte was running down the street towards our house, her pillowcase in hand. I was on my feet within the next second. The boy stared up at me in confusion as I set the bowl up on the table next to me. Charlie, what's wrong? I called out, ignoring the staring eyes of the parents to my left. My daughter ran up our yard, clearly in distress. the eye makeup that she and her mother had worked on just a few hours earlier

was now running down her cheeks, black tears staining her pale skin. Charlie ran up to me, throwing her arms around my waist. Sam was now standing, confusion in her eyes. Charlie? I repeated, rubbing my daughter's back. What happened? Charlie took a step back, rubbing her eyes.

I... I... got scared. I couldn't help, but become slowly angry. Why? Was someone messing with you? No, Dad, she said, shaking her head. I just... I don't know. Sam stepped forward, standing beside me. You can talk to us, honey. What happened?

Charlie sighed, looking nervously at the family on our driveway, as they began to walk away. There was a man. at one of the houses. Okay, what did he do to you? I asked. Just about ready to go inside and grab my gun. Nothing, she said, wiping away tears once more. He just...

He told us a scary story, that's all. Sam nodded, sighing softly. Well, you're safe now, Charlie. It's just a story. Who was it? I asked, nodding slowly. Sam placed a hand on my arm, attempting to calm me down. It was that old guy, she said, shrugging.

The one who moved in like a week ago. I clenched my teeth. All right, well, I'm going to go talk to him. Charlie began to churn a lip as Sam shook ahead. It's fine, Ryan, don't bother. It's Halloween. You're supposed to take him. tell scary stories, she said, looking towards her daughter.

And it's just fine that you got scared, honey. Scary stories aren't for everyone. No, I'm going, I said, shaking my head. Who makes a little girl cry like that? Dad, it's fine, Charlie said, sighing. It was just a stupid story. I'm okay. Don't worry, Charlie, I said.

I just want to talk to him, that's all. Charlie rolled her eyes, heading towards the front door. Well, I'm not going back there, she said, pushing open the door. That guy is creepy. I remained outside with Sam for a moment, rubbing my chin. Ryan, you don't have to bother with doing this,

Sam said, sighing. You saw her Sam, I said, pointing towards the door. That creep should have known what was too far before she ever got to that point. Sam nodded slowly, seemingly accepting that I wasn't going to give in. Well, I'm coming with you then. I grunted, already beginning to walk out towards the street. I'd already made up my mind anyway.

I knew exactly which house Charlie had been talking about. The man had only moved in five days ago. I knocked on the front door of the man's house, glancing over my shoulder at Sam. My wife looked slightly nervous. I didn't blame her. I usually kept my temper under control to give myself some credit, but some people just rubbed me the wrong way.

There wasn't much I could do about that. The door creaked slowly open. An older man stood in the doorway, his scalp almost completely bold. His skin was extremely wrinkled and looked as if it were dry. The man had certainly not aged well. You seem a bit of a bit of a little.

old to be looking for candy. The old man smiled, chuckling. I ignored his joke. Hey, did my daughter come through here earlier? The man frowned. I'm afraid I don't know your daughter, sir. I nodded. She wore a cat costume. You told her a story apparently, I said, narrowing my eyes. She just came home to me crying. The old man sighed, turning away briefly. "'Ah, yes,' he said, nodding. "'She did come by.' "'What's wrong with you?' I asked, crossing my arms. "'Why did you think it's okay to make a girl cry like that?'

Sam placed the hand on my arm as the old man stared into my eyes. "'I didn't know that the girl would cry. "'I'm truly sorry.' "'What did you tell her anyway?' "'I asked, moving Sam's hand gently away. "'I was calm. The man laughed softly before sighing, Oh, I imagine you wouldn't want to hear the story.

No, you're going to tell me, I said, taking a step forward. I was calm. The man stared at me for a moment before speaking. I told your girl a story that my family has been telling for years, centuries even. I nodded, leaning against the wall. Well, get on. with it then. The man nodded, clearing his throat.

In a small town, out in the middle of the country, a few hundred years ago, there lived a young boy and his friend. The boy and his friend liked to play out in the woods outside of the town, fighting one another with sticks or swimming in the river. I listened intently, feeling Sam as she stepped up beside me. The man continued. One day The two of them heard a rattling somewhere out in the woods

The friend turned to the boy and said I think I just heard a deer The boy turned to his friend And said No I think it was a dog I turned to Sam

frowning You sure this is the story You told my daughter The old man He ignored my question The boy and his friend began to argue Eventually decided

that they would move deeper into the woods in an attempt to find the source of the noise. Sam smirked, seemingly amused by the man's story. What did they find then? Deep in the woods, the boy and his friend, found a man. He said, a disturbing smile crossing his face. He was quite unlike any man the two had ever seen before. He stood nearly eight feet tall and wore dark clothing that covered every inch of his skin.

A hood shielded his head from view. No matter how hard the boys looked, no matter how close they moved, they could not make out the man's face. I hate to admit it, but the man's story was beginning to make me feel uneasy. Why were you saying this to my daughter? The man is good, my friend.

The old man said, smiling, Let me finish my story, please. I nodded, sighing loudly. The old man spoke. The man introduced himself to the boys and explained his situation. The man is tall, he needs to eat. Once a day, the man picks a name from his list

and travels to their home. When his meal is not looking, he sneaks into their home and hides under their bed. When the meal falls asleep, the man makes a small cut in the meal's skin and sucks the blood from their body. I frowned, disgusted. What the hell is wrong with you? The man continues to smile.

You don't like the story? You're sick, I said, shaking my head. In what world is that a good story to tell a child? Hours, he said. His eyes unblinking. Don't you want to know how he makes his list? Sam groaned, unsettled. Ryan, let's just go home, please.

The man adds those who hear his name to his list. The old man said, his grin growing even wider. No, Sam, I said, looking back at my wife, this guy needs to understand that what he is doing is wrong. Would you like to hear his name? The old man asked, his eyes locked under the back of my head. I turned back to the man, my hand held up. Enough with your story.

They call him the blood letter. The old man said, beginning to laugh. The man was starting to tick me off. What the hell is funny to you? I asked, taking another step forward. Is making a little girl cry funny to you? The old man did not respond. His laughing cut off by a pained fit of coughing.

Without another word, I reared back my fist and punched a man. Sam gasped behind me as the old man fell to the floor. The man grunted in shock as he hit the ground before falling back into a fit of laughter. I shook my hand slowly, groaning. Let's go, Sam. I said, avoiding my wife's eyes. as we walked down the man's driveway. Charlie was watching TV in the living room when we got home.

The three of us ate a late dinner and headed to bed. Charlie still at school the following day after all. I kissed my wife good night and that was that. I woke up the next day, Halloween morning, to find Sam next to me. Dead. Her neck had been slashed open. No blood stained the bed around her corpse.

Her skin was paler than it used to be. My poor, beautiful Sam. The first thing I did was check on Charlie. She was and is okay, thank God. The police found the old man's house to be empty. There are apparently no records of anyone having lived there within the past year. The smart ones among you may have already noticed what I have done. If so, I'm so sorry that it had to be this way

If you still have yet to realize what I've done I'll spell it out for you You've now heard the old man's story You now know the man's name Maybe I'm just losing my mind Perhaps that assol I talked to on Wednesday Was the one who killed my wife But

I can't stop thinking about his story Do I want you to die? No, of course not. No, I want Charlie to live. And it seems that the more people that know of the man's story, the better her chances are of surviving. You are now on the man's list of names. So am I, so is my daughter,

and so is the name of every other user who has heard this story. So, now what? How do you increase your chance of survival? Tell the man's story to those you know, to those you hate, to those you love, to those you don't know. I couldn't give a damn, really. I just want Charlie to be okay. I hope you can forgive me. It isn't personal, of course.

I don't know your stories. I don't care about who you are or what you've done. To me, you're just a name. A name that lowers my daughter's story. chances of being murdered by this blood letter. I'm taking Charlie far away from here. I'm not going to mention where. I'm beginning to fear that there is no point in trying to run.

It's only a matter of time before the blood letter reaches Charlie's name. I don't even know how this damn list works. For all I know, Charlie and I are next. Maybe I've killed you all for nothing. Who knows really? Please, share this story to as many people as you can, or as many people as you want to. Hell, I don't even mean this YouTube post specifically.

Tell them the story. Tell them his name. If I'm lucky, the bloodletters list will grow. If I'm lucky, maybe I can put off Charlie's death by a few years. I've already told almost a hundred people this story in person. That's potentially another hundred days of life for my daughter. That is, of course, unless the blood letter picks randomly. I hope I've made you understand why I've done this to you. I hope you will join me in spreading his story.

I'm so, so sorry.