CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Let Me In" Creepypasta

Episode Date: October 20, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by WillRayne: 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►Santiago Betancur: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/nY...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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and let me find out of your way. Start today not your gratis-proof-periodes on Shopify.b. That is Shopify. old. I heard a man die and did nothing to help. It's not something I'm proud of, but I was just a scared kid at the time. I was often left home alone when I was a child. I won't say my parents didn't love me or anything so dramatic, but they had priorities. Oftentimes, I was not high on that list. Still, I enjoyed the solitude. I had the run of the house and could pretty much get away with

whatever I wanted while they were gone. Well, as long as I made sure to clean up after myself. It was early February when it happened, while my folks were out and are part Valentine's part anniversary date. They had married at this time of year around 15 years ago, so they would make a big deal about it annually. It was snowy outside, and I wanted to go play in it while they were gone, but I had the biggest fear about inadvertently getting myself locked out of the house and freezing to death

before anyone arrived to save me. It was close to 10 o'clock when my mom called and told me they would not be home until morning. This would neither be my first nor last time alone in the house. So I assured her I would keep the doors locked and get to bed at a reasonable hour. Surely what I considered reasonable and what she did were far different times. Were I being responsible, I would likely already be in bed. But I was happily in the middle of binging horror movies when she called. I won't say they never gave me nightmares, as my mother warned, but I still loved them.

We had a great assortment of channels on our unlocked cable box, so it wasn't hard to track down movies to suit my late-night tastes. It was going closer to midnight, and I felt my body began to crave my bed, when the commotion began outside. I peed through the living room window to see a man screaming and running across the street. He was yelling out for anyone to help him. him. He even ran into some of the neighbouring houses and pounded on their doors. Help, for God's sake, somebody help me. He cried out into the night, while he slammed his fists against the doors and walls. Most houses just turned the lights off when all of this began, but I couldn't look away. What could have gotten this guy so worked up?

It was a typical suburban street I lived in as a kid. Little than nothing ever happened, aside from the occasional car pulled over for one reason or a man. Another. Finally, the man arrived at my door. He beat his hands against the wood and shouted out, begging me to help. I was a kid. What the hell was I supposed to do? Please help me.

They're coming. He yelled out from the other side of the front door. I pulled a chair up to the door and I stood on it to look out the peephole. The man looked young, maybe in his early twenties. Though, to my perception at the time, he may as well have been in his 60s. He had dark beard stubble and wore a thick blue hoodie and knit cap in gloves. It was really cold outside, so I knew he had to be freezing. Please, just let me in, he whimpered softly.

Just help me. I'm begging you. I felt bad for the guy, but I couldn't invite a stranger into the house. Even if I believed he was truly scared. I can't help you, mister, I called out to him. I hoped he would just move on to the next house after he heard that I was just a child. But it made him beg harder. Please, kid, I won't hurt you.

I just need to get off the street. He whined. My dad says I can't have people over, I said, hoping to rationalize with the man. Just let me in. Please, he asked softly. I'm sorry, mister, I can't. My dad would kill me, I reasoned. Suddenly, the man turned around.

and I felt him push us back to the door. His head was right in front of the peephole now, and I couldn't see what was happening. Oh God, he said. I jumped down from the chair and ran to the living room window again. By the time I made it to the glass, he started screaming out and pounding on the door again. I had the doorknob jingle as he attempted to force his way in,

but I'd locked it and deadbolted. Jesus Christ, just let me in, for God's sake, please. He was wailing and his voice had given way to high-pitched shrieks. As I glared out the window, I saw three dark shapes speeding across the road in front of my eyes. They were almost blurry, as if I looked through an unfocused camera lens. I couldn't even make out what they were, but they darted off the road and towards my house. I whipped the curtains closed and sat down on the floor under the window. Suddenly, the mantie-ells changed to blood-curdling squeals.

I heard more pounding against the door as well as the walls of the house, along with the sound of what reminded me of where my dad would cut the turkey at Thanksgiving. The yells turned to gargles, and I heard something wet, sprayed to the ground and the siding at my house. I heard snapping and crunching sounds, along with something like fabric being torn. After the man's goggling scream stopped, there was a chorus of shrill squeaks that did not resemble anything I had ever heard before. It reminded me of when I had pinched the mouth of a balloon, letting the air out, only much louder and more good turrell. After a moment, everything fell silent again. When I finally did emerge from my safe spot under the window,

I ran up the stairs to my bedroom, locked the door and hid under my blanket, until I fell asleep. I was awake in the next morning by the sound of police sirens out front, accompanied by a loud knock on the front door. I peaked out of my bedroom window to see several police cars and a black SUV parked on the road in front of the house. I was too scared to answer the door since my folks had not arrived back home yet. I just stayed up in my room and ignored the hammering on the front door. After a while, the knocking stopped, but the police stayed out there until my parents drove up an hour or so later.

My mom came flying through the front door and up the stairs. She tried to get in, but my door was still locked. She just pounded and shouted for me to let her in. Her words, along with a knocking, sent a shiver at my spine after the previous night's events. I swung the door open and she pulled me into a hug. After a few minutes of holding me in place, she started grabbing my arms, checking for injuries. Once she was certain I was okay, she asked me if I heard anything last night. I'm not entirely sure.

why I lied to her and said I didn't hear anything. Maybe I felt guilty about what I assumed had happened to the yelling stranger. It could have just been as simple as I didn't want my folks to know I stayed up so late. Sometime later, my father came inside after the swarm of vehicles in our street thinned out. One of the cop cars and the black SUV stayed out the front for a while, and two officers went to each house of the neighbourhood. It had been a bizarre series of events, but a paper. I had no mind after a couple of weeks passed.

Sure, kids at school spun many a rumor about the murder that had seemingly occurred on my street, though a body was never found. There was a great deal of blood that spread across the front of my parents' house and on the driveway. Some would theorize it was way more than the human body was capable of holding,

but there had been a lot of exaggerated stories over that first week. For several months after the man begged to be a loud entry into my home, My parents refused to leave me at the house of my own. It was actually quite nice, if I'm being honest. Though I missed having the run of the place a bit, my folks were more attentive than they'd ever been. Again, I would never accuse them of being overly neglectful.

They just never saw the danger in leaving the house with me as its only occupant until then. Of course, their new outlook didn't last for long. It was mid-December before I'd be left alone again. My parents had a Christmas party to attend with some friends, so they asked if I would be okay in my own. Given the fact I had no desire to be left with some babysitter, who was only a few years older than me, I said I would be fine. Truthfully, though I enjoyed them being more attentive these days, I did miss my solitude. As was usually the case, my mom checked in around tenish, to which I informed her all was well. She told me they would like to be home around one

I recommended that I try to get to bed soon. Of course, I did not plan on hitting the sack until I saw the lights on my parents' honda rolling into the driveway, but she didn't need to know that. After successfully riding my makeshift Captain America Shield down the stairs several times in a row, I decided to just hunt for a good R-rated movie to bide my time until I had to head up to my bedroom.

It was right around midnight, when the knocking on the front door pulled my attention away from Jason steadily strolling after a fleeing, topless girl. Let me in, the voice called from outside. I instantly tensed up as my mind revisited the stranger who was left as nothing more than a bloody pool across the front lawn. My dad had ended up having to repaint the front of the house as the stains would not wash off. Even the concrete driveway still wore a few marks that would not clean up. Come on, kid, let me in, echoed from behind the door. I turned the volume up on the movie to attempt to block out the sounds.

Help me, save me, let me in, the voice called out, grown louder with every word. It wasn't like he was shouting. It was more like his vocal tones elevated in the same way I'd turned up the sound on the TV. Hesitently, I crept over to the window to peer outside. I saw no evidence of anyone or anything. The whole neighbourhood appeared to be at rest, but I still heard the man behind the door. Just let me in. I won't hurt you. I promise, he called out again. I quietly carried the same chair over to gaze to the peep hole.

I froze in place after I accidentally bumped wood to wood while attempting to position my prop. I know you're in there, kid. Just let me in. please. I climbed up to glance to the small circular hole to see nobody out there. Come on, kid, you can save me, you know that right, the invisible stranger asked. Certain that I had eaten way too much candy, or had knocked myself senseless while sliding down the steps, I decided to just turn the TV off and head to bed. Even after, I turned on the box fan I used to provide ambient sound to help me sleep,

I still heard the voice, which now sounded like it was coming from directly my second floor window. I sandwiched my head between two pillows, but it made little difference in the volume of the cries for help. Don't go to sleep and leave me out here, kid. All you have to do is just let me in, it begged. It wasn't until I saw the light trace across the far wall of my bedroom that signify my parents' arrival, but the voice fell silent. For years it carried on like that, always around midnight and only when I was alone. I got to the point of practically begging my folks not to leave when they were inevitably head out for the night and even requested a babysitter when they would. They agreed to my requests for someone to watch over me while they were gone, but that

ended after I turned 12. Sometimes I was able to arrange a sleepover with a friend, but there would be times I could not wheeze on my way out of being alone as the hours approached. Regardless of how often the voice would return, I was never able to just ignore it or push it to the recesses of my mind while I focused on other things. When my folks would be gone all night, the voice wouldn't stop until I finally drifted off to sleep, which always required quite the struggle to achieve. As the years progressed and my school days ended, I went after college where I would have a roommate for a time. Though I would involve myself in any activity that would keep me from being alone in my dorm room after hours,

though still those times I would once again be at the mercy of the voice behind my door. No matter where I went in life, the stranger would follow, though there would never be evidence of his presence, aside from the begging plea and knocks on the door. After college, I still maintain a roommate to avoid as many late-night visits as I could, though it would not keep them away entirely. I couldn't exactly forbid my housemate from having a life after all. For some years, I would only have to worry about the cries for help around the weekends. Unfortunately, when my roommate decided to move in with his girlfriend,

I was out of luck. Sure, I attempted to get another roomy, but my erratic and desperate behaviour freaked most interested parties out. So, every single night after my housemate moved down, out, the knocking and screaming came. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, the volume would crank up higher and higher. I even tried checking into a busy motel for a night, hoping that the crowded hallways would keep it away.

But no, as long as I was alone in my room, the pounding would begin again around midnight, without fail. For months, I fought against my slipping sanity, but I could never block it out. Ear plugs? Nope. earphones are playing music? Nope. Nothing would keep the man's begs for help from reaching my ears.

Finally, after way too many sleepless nights to count, I couldn't tolerate it anymore. As many times before, I gazed through my peephole to reveal nobody there, though the calls and knock still bellowed through. With a heavy sigh and a racing heart that felt as though it would crack through my sternum, I wrapped my trembling fingers around the doorknop. and pulled it open.

My jaw practically fell onto my chest, when my eyes met the shredded figure in front of me. Half of his face had been torn away, leaving her reddened skull, with strips of meaty tissue where skin once lay. His left arm had been ripped from his shoulder, and he was hard to differentiate the blooded muscle and bone from the clumped threads of the shirt and hoodie that remained. His guts was spayed open,

leaving oozing intestines hanging to the floor in a scarlet pool, and both of his legs were a gruesome combination of moist ground beef and bone, with little holding them in one piece. Somehow, his right arm was the only part of him free of any manner of injury, which he still held out in front of him with his bald fist in preparation to knock once more. Thanks, man, he said, trying to smile with the one side of his face that still had the ability to do so. You're a lifesaver. he continued, before he collapsed to the ground.

In a series of snapping and squishing sounds, his body twisted and contorted as it smoked, bubbled and popped, shrinking down and dissolving into the fuzzy welcome mat and concrete pavement. Within seconds, all that remained of the stranger, who was only visible through the open door, was no more than a charred crimson stain on the ground. I caved at the damp mat that still wore the marks of many dirty feet combined with the new red and burnt black to find nothing hidden underneath it though my mind was reeling and my mouth still hung agape I strolled across the pathway that led away from my house nudging the mat towards the garbage can that stood at the end of my driveway

I picked up the carpeted sheet that now read we, me on either end of the grisly stains by one of the untouched corners and dropped it in my trash bucket. I stood outside, staring back in my house, with my head in the days. Could that really be all I had to do to put an end to this madness? Would my nightly visits finally be over? I began to cackle like a crazy person while I paced back to my open door,

feeling like my remaining marbles may indeed be rolling out of the confines of my noggin for good. Before I could reach the entry to my home, I heard what sounded like a pack of wild animals thundering their feet across the ground behind me. I whipped around to see three, hideous, and deformed, dog-like creatures scampering across the road towards me. Thick, flammie slobber, dripped from their gaping moors as they sprinted at me on muscular legs,

covered in matted, dreadlocked fur. I screamed at the top of my lungs and hauled ass back through my doorway and slammed it shut behind me. I quickly flipped the deadbolt latch and pressed my back to the door while the beasts rammed into it from the other side. Whaling barks and growls, blended with something that resemble the sound of wood chipper might make if you threw 50 pounds of frozen food into it, squalled from outside. They did not attack the actual tour again after the initial slam from the quickly ceased high-speed pursuit. I had no doubt that they were attempting to force their way in. My simple locks would not keep them abay for long.

I glanced to the people again to see the trio just pacing back and forth still dripping that noxious drool with every whimper of their awful sounds each of them were quite large easily twice the size of the largest dog I'd ever seen their bodies and limbs bulged with rippling muscles and their mouths were filled with jagged and misshapen yellow teeth

every one of the six and large dyes glowed a vibrant orange beneath their furrowed brow accepting that another sleepless night was ahead of me. I drew my largest kitchen knife from the rack beside my stove and sat to my couch trembling from head to toe. Of course, I had no doubt that a paldry blade, used for preparing a meal, would provide little defense against the horrendous beasts.

I just gripped onto the hilt like a safety blanket and prayed they wouldn't try to force their way inside. At some point, I must have fallen asleep, and by the time the sun rose, the beasts had moved on, as far as I could tell anyway. I slowly pulled my door open to reveal nothing, but the stained concrete behind it. I felt an edge for the rest of the day, but nothing else appeared out to place while I went to my daily grind. It wasn't until I was on my way home, after dining with some friends after work, that I understood the new troubling situation I would be forced to endure.

The sun began to set on I drive back to my house, something that never made me nervous before, not until midnight anyway. By the time I arrived at my street, the world was now lit by the subtle glow of the moon. It was then that I heard the barking and growling again. I darted my eyes to the rearview mirror to see the three matted creatures speeding at me from behind. I slammed my foot to the floor, causing when Nissan to speed faster across, the road to my house than I would ever have dared before. I was terrified at the idea of kids playing in the street, where absent-minded drivers drifting onto my lane,

but I had to outrun these things and reach the safety of my home. I skidded into my driveway and felt my right tire lift from the ground as the left one spun to a halt, tearing into the grass and dirt of my front lawn. My heart was hammering against my chest again while I sprinted to my front door. I could practically feel the foul breath of the demonic hellhounds on the back of my neck as I fumbled my key against the knot in my attempt to gain entry.

I dared not look behind me until I finally achieved success and tripped onto the floor, kicking the door shut with my heel. I rolled over and reached up to latch my lock. When I heard and felt the hard slam of the monstrous creatures, beginning another night of their atrocious whales calling from outside. This is how I live now. I never stay out of house. the dark, no matter what.

I feel a panic attack building up whenever I see the sun beginning to recede for the night, whether I'm safely behind my walls or not. I don't date, I don't socialise. Those things only lead to the inability to put a door between me and my stalkers when night falls.

I can't say mine is a happy existence, but I'm alive. I wonder sometimes if I had allowed the stranger entry the first time he begged for it, Would I be where I am now? Or would he have transferred this curse to me sooner?

Somehow, I doubt I'll ever have answers. But there has to be a way out of this, right? If you take nothing else from this tale, just remember this. Should I ever come knocking on your door after dark? No matter how hard I beg, no matter how much I cry, do not even acknowledge me. And for God's sake, don't let me in.