CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "My Apartment Block Has Some Horrifying Residents" Creepypasta

Episode Date: August 31, 2022

JOINSUBSCRIBEDCREEPYPASTA STORY►by doomedgeek: 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►TavenerScholar: https://www.deviantart.com/tavenersch...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 lost my job, I was devastated. Being fired was over in a flash. There was an email and a week's wages paid into my bank account, and that was it. My marriage collapsed over the months that followed, and soon after my house was repossessed. That was when I moved to the 20th floor. Growing up in America, living on the upper floors of an apartment block, was an aspiration. here in Scotland on the outskirts of a cold, grey city. It was very different.

For a start, it was called a tower block, not an apartment block. Tower, like something out of medieval times. It wasn't surrounded by a moat. Instead, rubble and broken glass and dog dirt littered the ground all around. There'd been other tower blocks clustered here once. I'd seen them on an old photograph in the public library. I loved the library when I was a kid. I take out as many books as I could.

Horror books especially. Zombies and werewolves and vampires. They were my favourite. That had been 30 years ago. Now I was going to the library to keep warm. Without a car, I had to rely on buses that rarely turned up to get there. I had no internet and a cheap mobile that I couldn't use because I had to have. hadn't paid the bill.

I thought things could not get any worse, but then life dealt me a new card. I received a letter telling me that my claim for unemployment benefits was being suspended. I tore the letter up, then pulled my coat on and trudged two miles through the rain to the nearest shops to spend the last of my money on a bottle of whiskey. I was desperate and angry, and I needed to get drunk. And after that, I couldn't think that far ahead. The walk to the shops took me ages, and it was dark by the time I got back. A shared lobby off the entrance to the tower block was decorated with graffiti.

Tags were punctuated with obscure offers alongside mobile numbers. Someone had vomited on the floor while I'd been out. I stepped around it and pressed the button for the elevator. The elevator stank and was painfully slow, but it was better than the stairs. After an infuriating wait, the elevator doors opened, and I stepped into its urine-soaked embrace. I pressed 20. The doors closed. Then the elevator rattled and began to move. Downwards. Hellfire.

It was taking me to the basement. I'd never been to the basement. Why would I? There was nothing down there that I knew of. It was just dead space. My shoulders slumped, and I eyed the unopened whiskey bottle in its white plastic bag. I'd spent the walk back from the shops wanting to open it and take a swig, but something had stopped me. A sliver of pride, a sliver of hope, maybe.

The elevator thudded to a halt. It rattled once more for good measure as the doors opened. Darkness stretched out before me. interrupted only by the white gash of a narrow strip light along the ceiling. There was large refuse bin, a push bike lying on its side. Remarkably for around here, it still had its wheels. I wondered if it belonged to whoever had pressed the button to call the elevator down here. There was no sign of anyone, and I wasn't going to wait.

After all, it was probably teenagers or a junkie. likely they'd stolen the bike for the trip to their dealers and couldn't wait for the lift to get there. They'd be somewhere in the basement shooting up. 20 was still lit up, but I pressed it again anyway. Good riddance to them. I'll be back in my apartment soon. I double-locked the door and turn the TV on, crank the volume up as high as I could to try and drown out the neighbours,

the pounding music and the screaming they'd never seemed to end. I was surrounded by noise, but I lived in silence. I could not remember the last time I had spoken, other than the odd mumbled word as I handed over money in the shops or on the bus. The last conversation I had was with my wife, and that had been an argument. If I saw any of the neighbours in the corridor, I'd stare at my feet until they had passed. I don't know anyone's name and did not want to. I reached in the plastic bag and began to unscrew the lid of the whiskey bottle.

The elevator shuddered to a halt. I was only up to two. Damn it. I pressed 20 again and again slamming my palm against the button. Nothing. It looked like I had no choice. I pressed the door open button and stepped out. The door to my left.

would take me to the second floor apartments. On my right, the stairwell waited. I had 18 flights to climb. I leant against the wall, finished unscrewing the lid, and with a bottle still in the plastic bag, lifted it to my lips. The whiskey tasted disgusting,

as I knew it would. It was cheap, foul stuff, but it did the trick. I decided a drinking game would help. I would take a slug of whiskey every time I reached a new floor. Yes, that would make it bearable. Smiling for the first time that day, I took another drink and set off for my ascent. The stairs were narrow and steep, lights fixed in the ceiling buzzed and flickered.

I felt a headache start behind my eyes and paused halfway in between floors to have a drink. I was putting the lid back on the bottom. bottle, when I heard a noise below me. Something lowered down the stairwell. I remembered the junkie. Had they given up on the elevator as well and were heading up the stairs now that they'd had their fix? Or was it teenagers after all, gang members? They all carried knives. I'd seen a program about that on TV. Either way, I did not want them catching up with me and the noise was getting louder. I swore to myself and horrid up the rest of the stairs to the next floor. I tried not to make any sound, but I could not stop myself gasping because of the exertion

as I barged to the door which led onto the third floor corridor. I'd never seen any police at the block and had wondered in the past if it was one of the no-go zones I'd read about in the free newspaper that I sometimes found on the bus. If it was a no-go zone for the police, it probably would be a no-go-zone for the police, it probably was for the paramedics as well. I stood in the corridor, try not to think about getting stabbed of the knife or jagged with a needle.

If I was, no one would come and help me. The whiskey I'd drunk was burning painfully in my stomach, but I took another gulp anyway. It was going to be okay, I told myself as I swallowed. Whoever it was would be gone soon,

back in their own squalid apartment, chasing the dragon or playing shooting at games, or whatever it was people like that did. The buzz of the whiskey was flooding my body, and I kept drinking, stopping to gulp and breathe, and then lift the bottle once more to my lips.

It was going to be okay. I'd be back in my place soon, and I could finish the whiskey in peace. I lowered the bottle, staggered a little, then heard the door to the stairwell open. I froze. There was someone behind me, moving towards me.

Only, it wasn't footsteps I could hear. It was a scraping, scratching sound, like something sharp was being dragged along the ground. I turned slowly, reluctantly, and saw a nightmare. A creature conjoined from the darkness. It was tall and slender, its skin was taut and pale.

It had the beginnings of hands and feet, but these tapered out, into jagged edges that looked sharp. Its eyes were red, vivid and penetrating as they fixed me in their gaze. Its nose was flattened, bat-like, against its face. As I stood, staring, this monstrous apparition shuffled forwards,

and I realized the scraping was the sound of its claws catching the floor beneath it. Sweat ran from my face. All the strength had drained from my limbs, but I knew I had to run. The creature was second away. from me, and I could see trousers of spittle glistening between long, twisted fangs. I stumbled, backwards, away, and then I ran.

I hammered indoors as I careened down the corridor. Help me, I cried. Someone, help me! No one answered. No one ever did in this block, because no one cared. And I had reached the end of the corridor. There was nowhere else to go. There was just the final door

I slapped it, kicked it, I pleaded The creature was close enough to touch His breath was hot against my skin and fettered It stank of decay of death The door clicked and opened A crack of light appeared And the line of a door chain draped in peace Whoever was inside swore

A torrent of abuse as they told me to go to hell I'm already there, I thought, and a manic laugh bubbled inside me as the creature turned its grotesque glare on the gap in the door. Then, with a single sweep of a claw, it sliced through the chain, then pushed open the door. The man stood there. He was skinny, wearing a stained vest and shiny tracksuit bottoms. As he gawped, open the mouth to the creature, a dark patch spread out over his crotch. and then I swear the creature smiled

as it looped a claw around the back of the man's neck and pulled him forwards towards its mouth his jaw was made a cracking sound and opened wide and then it bit its fangs pierced

the man's scalp and the underside of his chin blood splurtered shang the walls in the ceiling and me I felt the hot thick liquid strike my skin. It brought me out of my days. The creature's attention was fixed on its kill. That was clear. This was my chance, my only chance to get away. I darted past it and sprinted back down the corridor and through the door to the stairwell. I hesitated, torn between the sanctuary of my

flat and getting out to the building. Out, I decided. Three flights versus 17. I raced down the stairs. I almost falling, but made it and exploded out into the lobby, where another creature waited. Its appearance was the same as the thing I'd just encountered, but I could see that it had long flaps of skin folded over on its back. It was hunched over a body, a woman. Her arms and legs were twitching as a pool of blood around her grew. The creature's mouth was over her throat, and it was oblivious to me.

I staggered past and outside into the night. Darylick ground stretched out before me. I needed to keep going, to get away, but I could barely breathe after running down the stairs. I bent over, put my hands on my knees, and glanced back up at the block. A pale shape circled the building, slender wings rising from its back,

showed in the light from the windows. It was looking, for a way in, I knew, a new victim. All it had to do was look down, though, and it would see me. There was no way I could make it across the open ground before this happened. I moved back towards the block, press my back against the wall, and tried to make myself as small as possible. I stood there, shivering, waiting to be discovered.

Time felt as if it had stopped, and I thought that the night would never end. But when light finally began to creep into the sky I knew I was safe For a few hours at least Because I believed I understood now What they were The creatures They were vampires

But not the blood-drinking brooding immortals Of literature that I'd once loved They were vicious Unthinking monsters driven to slaughter By their hunger And the tower block was their hunting ground the people who lived in the block their prey I decided there and then

that was not going to be my fate darkness was the vampire's time they would be hiding from the light now I would take this opportunity to escape I started walking I had nowhere to go apart from away I had no money no friends no family there were soup kitchens in the city centre

shop doorways the sleep in weighs to score drugs to get me through the night if I couldn't find booze. I hesitated. All I had done for a long time was spiral. I'd given up and then given up some more, and it was never going to end. Unless, I turned around and headed back to the block. A dark smear stained the floor of the lobby.

It could have been anything if you did not know it was blood. The woman's body was gone. likely taken to the creature's lair. I made my way up the stairs and along the third floor corridor. At the far end, another stain lay across the floor. The door was closed. It was nothing else. No sign.

But I knew. I returned to the stairs, walked up to the 20th floor and let myself into my apartment. I still had my bottle of whiskey in its plastic bag. I went to the kitchen, poured a measure of whiskey into the nearest thing I had to a clean glass, then broke a chair against the wall. I took the pieces into the front room along with a whiskey and a kitchen knife, and I began to carve. I could keep running. I could spend the rest of my life running.

Or I could stay and fight. I held up the wooden steak I'd carved. from the broken leg of the chair and smiled.