CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "It all turns to rust" Creepypasta

Episode Date: June 14, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Saturdead: 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/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-

I'll be the first to admit it. We were bad kids. I spent a lot of time with Evan, Gary, Josh and Rob during my developing years, and we were in absolute pain in the ass. Evan always had some insane idea, and we all just pushed each other to do worse and worse. One day, we could challenge each other to break a window. The next, we might sit once dog loose.

We once caught a badger and locked it in our gym teacher's car. I know. It was all awful. We never really considered how others would feel. In our minds, it was always about pushing our limits. This was not about how we treated others. We were selfish. It was summer.

I was 12 years old, and it was the first time it all got really out of hand. Evan had found his dad's handgun, an old revolver. He'd loaded it with six bullets, and we were going down to the old storage yard to shoot some cans. The place had been abandoned for years, and all that remained were empty storage containers. Most of them had been stuck there since the 70s, rusted shut. We all got a turn with a gun. Gary hit a glass bottle spot on.

Josh hit one, but it didn't shatter. Rob missed altogether. I shot a can making it flip. We were cheering and passing it around, pretending to be action heroes. With two bullets left, it was Evan's turn. He'd brought the gun to begin with, so we argued he should get two shots. He posed with it like he was the Terminator. I got a challenge, guys, he grinned.

One of you got us sleep in a container? No way, said Gary. That's gross, rats everywhere. Yeah, screw that, said Josh. No one's doing that. Evan pulled the trigger and shot straight into the ground. No one was ready for it, so we all stepped back. There was smoke coming from the hole in the ground.

He held the gun up, pointing it at us, one after another. We need a volunteer, he said. Or, you know, we could play Russian roulette. You want to go first? He was pointing at me. I almost piqued myself. For goodness sake, yelled Rob. Fine, I'll do it.

Put the gun down. Evan just smiled. That's all I wanted, he said. We'll pick you up tomorrow. Evan found the oldest, grossest storage container in the yard. It was sunk into a big oil-filled puddle and was covered in so much graffiti that you couldn't see the original colour.

It had been stuck there for decades. We all had to pull to even open the doors enough for someone to slip in. The smell is what stuck with me. Air is not supposed to smell like that. Rob slipped in and almost fell The container was at a steep angle So he just laid down to keep his balance

Evan please I Rob I brought the gun Josh broke into a car last week You're the only one being a pussy I just Evan slammed the door shut He laughed so hard that we just followed along nervously Lots of nervous laughter

We left the the storage yard. Evan put the gun back and we went out to have an ice cream. I wasn't worried about Rob. We'd done worse things to each other once a week since we were seven. Still, if Rob hadn't stepped in, I would have been the one to spend the night in the storage container. I'm not going to go too deep into the details of what happened next, but we came back the next day to discover something. Did you know that Ross sucks up oxygen? That storage container was rusted all the way through. I've never been so terrified in my life,

opening that storage container and seeing that pale face peeking out from a blue pastel-colored hoodie. We all told the truth, and we were told it was all just a tragic accident. Evan tried to make it sound like Rob wanted to do it. I just told it like it was, a challenge. We did them all the time. The police knew all about our antics,

but this one had crossed the line they hadn't anticipated. Gary moved out of town a year later and Josh was transferred to another school. Evan had to repeat one year of school, so we just kind of lost him. In just one year, I was the only one of the old gang left. My entire personality changed.

I was having trouble with nightmares. I could imagine myself being stuck in that storage container, feeling my lungs filled up with metal dust. that awful acidic metallic smell, the slanted floor taking me further and further away from the light above, sinking ever deeper. I had to go to therapy. For years, I just tried to have a normal life. My parents were very supportive. They were proud in a way that I told the truth and owned up to our mistakes.

They didn't blame me for what happened, even if they were deeply disappointed. They knew we were just being idiots, and they knew just as well that I would never be that person again. I wish it had been that simple. As I grew out of my teenage years, I would look back on the time with a gang in shame. The other guys didn't have as much luck as I did. Gary was put in juvie for a grand theft auto charge at 17. Evan dropped out of high school in a matter of weeks. Josh did pretty well for himself, but he was a bit of an outcast at the other school.

Turns out he came out as gay, and there were plenty of people who had a problem with that. There's always a gang. If not us, then someone else. One by one, they seemed to fall off the face of the earth. Gary was first. He died in juvie, strangled in the shower. There were a few suspects, but there was no definite conclusion. Evan shot himself in the bathroom at his part-time job downtown. His note just told everyone to go somewhere. screw themselves.

A year ago, the only other living member of her old gang was Josh, and I haven't spoken to him for over a decade. I accidentally met him at a cafe not too long ago, and we decided to sit down and catch up. I mentioned my girlfriend, Rosie, and he talked at length about his engagement to a guy named Harold. They were planning to move to Wisconsin together. I noticed, however, that talking about it turned the conversation sour. Josh just shook his head.

I don't know if we'll make it, he said. Things are weird. Weird, how? You ever think about him? He didn't have to clarify who he was talking about. Of course, it was Rob. Our eternal him. The images flashed before my eyes.

The bottom of the container. My feet wet, choking. I never been there, but it felt like something inside me had. All the time, I admitted. Do you think he thinks about us? The question caught me off guard. Seeing my confusion, Joshua smiled and waved it aside. Never mind, he smiled.

Let me get the check. Two months later, Josh was dead. Downed in the bathtub. He never made it to Wisconsin with Harold. That's when my life turned to hell. I started having reoccurring dreams about that storage container. I'd imagine myself standing at the rusted door looking down. I would see all of their faces, pale and lifeless, staring up at me.

Something was forcing my body to step inside, to join them. No matter how hard I tried, I'd always step inside. The steep metal floor would make me slip, and just as my feet touched their grasping hands, I'd wake up. There'd be handprints all over my pillow. Rust. Two weeks after Josh's funeral, I got a letter. It was posthumously sent to me as part of his will.

The paper was covered in rusty handprints and was scribbled in a panic. My name was at the top of the paper, which was probably how they knew who to send it to. Don't stay in one place too long. He's looking for you. That was the first line. the thing was written like a list Sleep in the bathroom There's less build-up That explains why he was found there

Try not to sleep That's when he comes looking Another explanation He must have fallen asleep in the bathtub Exhausted If you're reading this I'm already gone Don't tell Harold

Be careful I didn't think I'd sleep that night But I did I was so stressed that my body just exhausted itself. My heart had been pounding for hours and the adrenaline was taking its toll. Oddly enough, the sleep was completely dreamless. I felt completely aware of the room I was in and my surroundings, which is why I reacted so fast when the bathroom door opened.

Someone was in my apartment. I shot out of bed. bed, grabbed my keys and phone and just ran. I ran out into the stairwell and was overwhelmed with an awful metallic smell. I almost choked and had to steady myself against the wall. I looked back. There he was, just as we'd left him, same pastel blue hoodie, same pale face leaking with rust, streaks of red out of his ears, nose, mouth and eyes. The hair on the left side of his head was stuck up straight, like he'd slept in a weird angle. He was there.

For me, I could feel my joint aching. I hurried down the stairs and felt something in my left knee snap. I fell but managed to catch myself. White bulbs started to pop. Things were going dark and the air was growing stale. I couldn't put any way to my leg, but I hobble my way down to the first floor. I was living my nightmare. darkness closing in, something grasping to drag me down.

I burst through the door and into the cool night. Once I got outside, I threw up. Rust. I coughed. More rust. It's been weeks now. I've lived my life by Josh's note. If I stay for longer than a few nights in the same place,

it all gets covered in rust and my cough gets worse. I can't keep anything near me, or the rust gets to it. It gets more active when I sleep. Once I fell asleep in my car and the damn thing was ruined in the morning, even the keys. I sometimes see that blue hoodie in passing.

It might be on the other side of the road or across the street from wherever acquaintance or distant family member that's been kind enough to take me in for the night. He's looking for me. He's not fast, but he's coming. He saved me for last. I sleep.

in the bathroom, but I don't fill up the bathtub with water. I've learned from Josh's mistakes. There's still some rust build-up, but if I've gotten enough distance, I can usually stay there for an extra day if I've been vigilant. I take the bus or train as often as I can. I can't keep buying cars, and, after ruining a third rental,

there's no one willing to help me out anymore. Caffeine pills are literal lifesavers, but I don't know how much my heart can take, I'm so tired. My left knee is still ruined and it just aches. I once scraped it from a bad fall and I'm not sure if it was blood or rust coming out. It flaked like rust. I don't know what to do.

I'm posting this from the computer of a public library. I've written this in a hurry. But there's already rust building up. The damiki keeps getting stuck. My cough is getting worse. I barely sleep and my hands are covered in rust. I wash my hands so much I'm getting rashes, but the rust just keeps coming back.

There's a storm coming tonight, so I don't think there'll be any trains or buses leaving any time soon. I'll try to walk for as long as I can, but I'm afraid I'll collapse on the side of the road. I try to hitchhike, but I don't want to put someone else in danger. My family has no idea where I am,

Or what I'm doing. Rosie is going crazy with worry. I don't know why my first instinct in all of this was to get away from friends and family, but I just don't want to drag anyone into this unless they know what this is, you know. I'm thinking I should do what Josh did, just in case, write it all down. That's why I'm here. This cough is killing me. Great against my lungs.

I'm pale like a damn. I'm ghost, please help. I don't know how much time I've got.