CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I'm the only worker at an abandoned theme park" Creepypasta

Episode Date: March 6, 2022

Hey guess what. It's my 10th year anniversary on YouTube. Every year it blows my mind how long it's been. I'm so surprised how strong we're still going. Let's keep going. CREEPYPASTA STORY►by CreepsMcPastaCreepypastas 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►Izzy Medrano: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/nQ...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-

When I clock in, the machine is old and archaic, covered in layers of dust. My opening routine is simple. I enter the main gate. I ignore Dave, who's always standing outside the premises when I enter. I make my way to the employee area and change into my uniform at the lockers. It sounds rather mundane. But once the shift starts, the craziness begins. Back when there was a team, we'd call every day a snowflake shift.

because no two days were ever the same, there's a long list of duties and almost never the same task. On top of that, there's no set schedule for when something will need to be done, creating near infinite possibilities of combinations a night. Most of the tasks are pretty simple, but the issue is that one small slip-up could cost you dearly. And there's no manual for the job. Survival comes from a mixture of past-known experiences, and dumb luck. And since there's not always a set answer, the best I can do is recall some stories from my time here. This way, any newcomer can calibrate their mode of thinking similar to mine

since I've been the most successful employee to date. Before learning about the shift, it's good to brush up on the area's history. The scenic land was bartered from locals many decades ago and swallowed into the site's growth. It used to be a special. small village with a few water spots, with solid land for foundations and robust roads. The issue was commerce.

The sustainability of the village was ever sinking, so some tycoons barreled up and swallowed the whole village with sweet deals. The idea was simple. Own all the land and develop it more than a pile of filthy peasants could do. Only one stood in the way, a middle-aged local, born and raised on the lands, and and refused the budge. Sadly, the records are shoddy, so no one knows what happened,

but they eventually got all the land, so he must have settled on a significant settlement or something. A few decades went by, and the project was stagnant. There was no clear goal with the land. They searched for gold, oil, but there was no magically profitable resource to be found. Just an impulse of greed that was a product of the time.

That was, until good old Walt came along and innovated the entertainment space. By this point, money was already drying up for the old Crohn's. They took the business model of what Walt revolutionized and blasted out a construction on a fraction of the budget. To say the project was a mess is an understatement. Corners weren't just cut, they were sliced off entirely. They had themed areas that branched from the central hub zone, a water park, a ride area. small games, food and entertainment. Everything was slathered in a thin layer of pirate theme.

And so, the Bandit Cove Theme Park was born. Immediately, the place was riddled with problems. Problems that became vastly apparent when an influx of guests came in. Many kids were injured at the minor attractions. There were an obscene amount of fatalities at the major attractions, before tape was put around the whole thing. Millions were spent to get the land, millions were spent to build it, and millions were given to pay off the lawsuits that followed. The place had no chance to continue.

But why is it that a small fraction of employees were kept on? And they were tasked with hiring more, and they then brought in more help. The park was closed with no hope of reopening. The park was eternally falling into disrepair. Yet there was a small team of staff on hand attending. to the park. The answer is, I don't know. Either the actual answer was lost over time, or the original staff knew the severity of the situation where the tasks left unattended. I've only managed to develop theories based on the tasks that have been upheld. So, about those

stories. Each area has its own unique tasks and challenges. My least favorite is the taming cages. During the brief time the park was open, a prominent attraction was the tamer cages. Back then, foreign animals were a commodity, something people still flocked from miles around to sea. The pirate theme was in full effect here, but it was mixed with a circus aesthetic, a mix that could not look more cursed. Imagine people in full bandit gear, but with odd bits of colours and full face paint. It was a free roller coasterce. down the uncanny valley. The small cages housed many oddities from around the world,

but the taming cells were way too small to house any kind of large predator. However, that didn't stop them from trying. Knowing the full extent of what a lion can do, it's pitiful how poor the entrapment was to keep them in. Every few days, I have one of the few tasks done outside the park. Periodically, I had to visit a butcher in the next to the next to the next to the next to the park. He's at a butcher in the nearby town. The young ones there seem to serve me with confusion, but the older gentleman regards me

as if he knows more than he lets on. Despite this, I can never get a peep out of him. The one thing that turns heads is that I've never paid with money. I inherited a beat-up old card that I just show them, a silhouette of the park's mascot on the front. They don't scan it or take any information from it. They just look at it and give me the same item each time. A strange bag of meat.

I've never tried to identify the cuts. I neither have the knowledge of meat, nor do I want to push my luck. I very quickly learned what happened to curious cats in this job. All I know is that it never smells fresh. I'm always followed with a horrendous pungent smell. When it's time, I make my rounds around the tamings. cages. The smaller cages house hunched over silhouettes. I leave a slab of meat just within reach of the cell. Only when I'm safely away did they scuttle over to eat. But it's the taming cells that I hate.

Because I can't just leave them meat there. I have to dig my hand in, grab a meaty handful, and throw it. The sound it makes isn't pleasant, but is what follows that I hate. It is what follows that I hate. The small plastic cave at the back stirs. I hear the grunts and sniffing as something emerges from the hole. There's a dragging sound as it slowly meanders out of its confines and slowly makes its way towards the meat. When it does, it goes to the same formality. It sniffs it as if appreciating the scent. Slowly it picks it up and only when it makes eye contact with me. Does it eat? I have to watch the painted face of what was once a person, slowly guzzle down the hunger flesh. His bandit clothes have long since been stained by years of red

drippings. I have to make sure it eats and it wants me to know who's truly in control. Because, like I mentioned, its routine is only a formality. He could hop the fence with his opposable thumbs and strangely strung limbs, if it wished to. But it doesn't, and seemingly self-contains itself to save the trouble. As long as it's pleased, it causes no problems. On my way back, I see them, now in the little barriers of the front of the cages, chewing down the red cuts. Pirates, bandits and thieves, their faces are still marked with the paint of the

uniform. Some days you just know what you're doing for the whole night. A prime example of this is when the screams start. When entering the main gate, a good idea is to just stand in the hub area and wait. Silence is golden. A quiet start usually means a calm shift, so when you hear screams coming from straight ahead, it's a good idea to brace yourself for a long night. The rides are straight ahead from the hub area, rickety old monoliths of ancient theme park technology. During the period these were built, they were relatively inefficient and downright dangerous. Even the upper echelon of rides from this era was marred with issues. You'd be hard-pressed to find rides from this era that hold up,

since they either don't last the test of time or parks work to modernize outdated rides. It's a miracle in and of itself, that they still stand. So, it's always a terrifying prospect that I sometimes have to operate them. Shrews screams light up the night, and you have to follow the source when they start. It takes a while. Sound bounces strangely in the park, so it's easy to get led in circles when the source is in reality nearby. And it's a nightmare when you find one. Sometimes they're hidden in the overgrown foliage, so I often jump with a start when a gentle rustling rises from near me when on the hunt. It starts slow, but winds up until it stands upright, and slowly it emerges.

The rotted, beat-up remains of a child. Their skin is run raw all over. The direction of scraping differs from many angles. They join to click and pop. with each motion, yet they still move with slow efficiency. When they see you, they will not stop following you. This is what you want. Once I get the attention of one, I work my way to a ride, which is essential. I make sure I get far enough ahead that I can get to work. You don't have to worry about losing them.

They always seem to find you, and the screams tips you off if it's close. Another staff member made that mistake They darted off and hid Hoping to just wait them out But it doesn't work like that They were found where they hid No footprints leading in But slow, deliberate red footsteps

Leading away from the body It takes a few times the kick-starter ride But they all somehow still function If just barely Once it's set up I sit down on a car seat and wait. Now comes the worst part.

I have to wait or pay attention to when the child shows up. They'll slowly come over and one of two things will happen. Either they sit down on the cart next to me or they keep walking. If they keep moving, this means that they're not in the mood for that particular ride and you have to get up as fast as possible before they reach you and run to another ride. The night will consist of doing this until you find the right one for the night Often it takes two or three attempts

And though I've been lucky enough to get it in one Sometimes I'm unlucky and go through several cycles of each Until they finally stop When they eventually do settle down You need to make your way around back to the controls And hit go It's a horrible feeling when you know what comes next The ride grinds the life, the mechanical whirring chokes and spotters,

it picks up speed and the joyous yells start. It's the most innocent childlike sound it'll make. This doesn't last long. It will happen whether it's on the first turn or final bend, but it's inevitable. Something will go wrong, and the cycle repeats over. The child will be flung from a great. tight and will be lost in a random direction.

It is destined to crash and settle somewhere until it stirs awake and screams, starting the whole cycle once more. It's always somber when the task is over. The screams fill up so much of the night, but the silence can be deafening. Only the mild purrs of the machine remain, which needs to be shut down. Let me tell you about. Dave. I mentioned earlier that my routine starts with entering through the main gate, ignoring Dave and making my way inside. That isn't an exaggeration. Always ignore Dave. Back

in the day we tried the time when he arrived. Every shift he'll be standing in front of the gate like he's the first in line to get in and so we tried to find a time he wasn't there. We tried arriving half an hour earlier to the shift. then an hour, then more. No matter how obscenely early we showed up, he'd be there. Yet, he wasn't there when we'd leave. He has the image of the most passive man you'll ever meet.

A simple, middle-aged, white-bred person, sweater vest over a clinging press shirt, khaki trousers, and some comfy-looking loafers. Dave is the most unassuming man you can imagine. But I think that's what makes. makes him passively terrifying. His clean demeanour stands out from the juxtaposition of the rundown and abandoned park. His polite tones don't match the grim nature of the job.

His words are smooth and persuasive. But, you must never listen to him. Often, when you enter, he'll try to ask you questions about the park. When is it opening if you could come inside, whether a particular ride or attraction was open? Some have tried to answer his questions to get him to leave, but this often proves to be a mistake. It's better to just walk by as sternly as possible and get away from the gate. But sometimes you can't. There are days when you have to sort something at the ticket kiosks or return to the hub area.

This is where it takes full advantage of your presence. He'll offer help with whatever you're doing. tell you he knows secrets unknown about the park that he can save you from every threat you come across and all you have to do is go back outside it sounds easy to avoid you'd think this is the easiest of tasks but as far as I'm aware

he has the highest body count of all the dangers he isn't dangerous on his own he uses present danger as a means of persuasion When you are chased by an escaped bandit clown hungry for meat that you no longer have, would you rather face them or friendly or Dave? Despite knowing how dangerous he is, it always seems like the best option in a dangerous situation. His tongue is smooth and his weight is sharp.

He knows just the right things to say to get your attention even without danger present. So, in a make or break moment, he's scarily good at tipping things in his way. favour. One of the number one rules of the job is never to leave the gates when Dave is still around. He'll never try to hide or trick you. He won't change the clocks to get you to come out prematurely. He only ever wants to get you out of his own accord. He can be great for conversation though. Over the years, I've had quiet nights when we just talked about life. It's given me solid relationship advice, helped motivate me in personal, projects, he even helped with some of my coursework back when I was in college.

He'll always try to turn things to get you outside despite the pleasant interactions, and every time I have to politely decline. Dave doesn't seem to age, no matter how long it's been, but this might be something only I've noticed since I've been here the longest. At the end of the shift, he's never there. This is a good indication that it's time to leave. His absence tends to signify that all dangers have ended. But this added to the enigma of him always being there when we arrived.

So years ago, a colleague challenged this paradox. His goal was simple. Stick around at the end of a shift and see when Dave comes. We all told him not to. We were pushing our luck every night. Why push it further? But no, he was adamant about solving at least one mystery. We never saw him again.

We chalked this up to another body count for Dave and noted to never try that stunt for future employees. If you want to know the worst place to be during a shift, it's the water park. Built over the small natural lake of the old village, it was supposed to be the namesake of the pirate theme they were going for. The area was called Treasure Lagoon. It had a mix of attractions for both older and younger generations.

Pools and slides twisted around the outer regions, whilst the main attraction, the pirate's flute, stands tall in the centre. But there's a reason why most water attractions aren't built on natural water sources. The safety measures were shoddy at best, and due to depth disparities, kids were quickly lost to the depths of the water. They built protective grates over the particularly deeper parts, but somehow kids slipped through and got trapped. The worst were the kids who got caught on sharp cuts and metal that jotted out from the grate sides.

All it took was a barbed hug to latch onto a kid's swimsuit, a quick panic and they lose their breath and disappear below the depths. There were eight reported deaths. Though, I feel that they only reported bodies found, not disappearances. Many tears are shed here, and they still haven't stopped. When you hear crying, you know it's time to attend the water park. At first, the sound of water is almost soothing. It flows around in the loop of the layout.

But it'll be there, the faint cries of children. There will be a lifeguard station and in there are numerous long poles with reinforced metal ends. I have no idea who supplies them, but there's never an excuse not to have one. Follow the sobs around the base. An important detail is never to stand at the edge. You may be tempted to approach the streams to hear better, maybe even to take a peek. This has cost us many members of the team. The sobs are quiet, almost inaudible.

But keep walking along and eventually you'll find a source. Now you wait. Eventually they'll reach out. Arms pale blue and slimy, dark veins streaking all over them. The voices will wail in agony as they thrash around the edge. Do not let them touch you. though they are small and childlike in size, they are powerful.

You'll eventually become desensitized to the next part. Slowly approach the edge, raise the pole, and gently push them back down. The trick is to estimate where a head should be. The whales will soon peter down into a sob before bubbling away into the depths. I lied about because of it.

being desensitized. It hurts me every time. For how long it takes for the sobs to stop, you have to keep circling the waters doing this. An easy night should end after a while. However, sometimes the moans lead all the way to the pirate flute ride in the centre. If this happens, it's just easier to run. There used to be a staff member who knew what to do when this started. But, That knowledge is now lost. If you stick around too long, you'll see the sea of arms. No one knows the consequences of letting them run loose for a night,

but is the only option we have right now. A lot of what happens in the park runs off sound cues. Dave's soothing voice cooing you to come outside, the screams from the rides, the cries from the water park, but the loudest by far is the sirens. You have to remember, the park was inspired by Walt Disney's original Magic Kingdom, built in 1955. That's only ten years after the end of the war. Tensions were still high for some people.

This rang true with the owners. It must have been paranoid with the number of sirens they placed around. They lock and sound like air raid sirens, so it's only a theory that they were actually about the war. They're practically at every corner. ready to fire off at a moment's notice. There's no mistaking when they go off. The whole park lights up with sound. I once saw someone's ears bleed because of them.

The first time I witnessed it, I was doing the roller coaster chase. But as soon as they went off, the child thing just slinked back into the bushes. Even the creatures that roam the place know when it's time to hide away. They don't blare at full volume. for long, just long enough to make its announcement known, then peters off sufficient for you

to start running. Even when you're going at full force, you can hear it. There's no doubt that it's coming. The cracking of small shacks splintering in the distance, the slamming of body parts heavier than anything known in the wild. The behemoth of the park wrecks its way in, wildly flailing about in agony. When the siren start, you have a small window of time to run. Take any head start you can because it's the only reprieve you'll get.

The creature slinks on many limbs, fleshy tendrils that slap about wildly. You can't run it on paper. It's fast, but it lacks direction. My theory is that it can't see, choosing to feel around. That's why it thrashes about so much. But it's shown bursts of high intelligence at times, so take what I say with a grain of salt. The problem with running is endurance. You have to evade it for a long time, sometimes all night.

Therefore, finding a sustainable way to escape is vital. You get desperate for escape. I've even been tempted to run out to Dave. He promises so much when you're desperate. when he offers a reprieve from the behemoth, it sounds like a fresh of breath air. Though, after hearing of someone once taken that option, I intently prefer the behemoth over him.

What makes things complicated is that sometimes the same thing won't work twice. Gary was adamant. He had the perfect spot. He claimed it worked every time. I was on shift with him when a siren blare happened. At the end of the shift, shift, I went up to his spot, a little reinforced stall that was designed for pellet gun shooting.

Gary was just a smear of red pace when I arrived. I talked about all the destruction it brings about. What always baffles me is when I come back the day after, everything is as it should be. Not in a pristine brand new way, always the same condition things were before it rages through the park. This isn't even the most confusing thing to me about the park I have way too many questions and not a shred of answers I've mentioned the branching paths from the hub area Each has its challenges and events

Many that I've still not spoken about And probably more than I've not even seen myself But there's an event that starts in the centre area of the hub From the Ferris wheel It's constantly spinning for a start. Even if all the power goes out because of the Goliathiels or when we knock off the generators, it's always running. It's a very passive danger compared to most. The only time it's claimed someone was when a new hire decided he wanted to ride it. We waited at the base,

keeping an eye on his cabin. When it came back around, he was gone. Never to be seen again. But that's not what I wanted to talk about. See, there's a rare event. It's only happened twice for me in the ten years I've been here. It signalled by a light coming on in one of the cabins. It's a good idea to glance at the wheel every so often, just in case it comes on when you're not ready. But when it does come on, it signifies the arrival of the backwards man.

The backwards man is a figure that walks. well, backwards. Not only that, he talks, moves and interacts with everything in reverse. He's very passive and friendly sounding. Granted, you can't understand what he's saying, but this only lasts as long as he's not mad. It's not what you do that makes him mad. You can poke him, run from him, ignore him, that doesn't set him off.

The thing that aggravates him, is when he sees something not in reverse. Well, I guess to him, we're the ones in reverse. And when he sees something not right, he goes after it with full force. This raid is simple. Just walk backwards, don't talk, and keep things simple. You can pick something up, put it down, and that's okay. But don't you dare drop it.

It's hard to fake reverse gravity. he'll come after you for that one if you pull your phone out your pocket that's fine but if you try say record him to reverse the footage later well you're pressing record then the video captures

that's backwards to him that's a no-no the force he exerts is beyond this world the air crackles with electricity from how fast he snaps towards you Whenever he hits you, you'll be lucky if any part of it remains. A slap on the wrist would literally put half your body against the wall several feet away. His methods are rather gruesome compared to most of the other threats here.

Personally, I'd just like to wave, smile, and then walk away. The whole Occam's razor about the simplest solution, often being the best, reign supreme here. I make the job sound like it's a mess. And in some ways it is. Days are inconsistent. I currently work seven days a week. My social life has been in ruin. But the pay is good.

You're heavily looked after. Though I'm still not sure by whom. But right now, I need help. It's getting exhausting because I'm the last one left. I'm doing everything. And in this job, tiredness kills. So, if anyone's interested in a night shift job with great benefits, it doesn't matter where you are, I'm pretty sure they're so desperate they'll ship someone in from across

the world. Just please. I need help. I'm exhausted, and if something happens to me, the next generation will have no guidance. And I dread to think what'll happen if there's too many slip-ups here. We can't afford anything getting out.