CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "My friends and I just wanted to shoot off some fireworks" Creepypasta

Episode Date: July 6, 2020

My friends and I just wanted to shoot off some fireworks. We could never have known we would awaken something.CREEPYPASTA STORY►by WeirdBryceGuy: 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/0ogZV►https://santiagobetancur.com/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-

The 4th of July weekend was supposed to be fun. My cousin, Marissa, accompanied me to my friend, Ellen's cabin, where the three of us were going to spend the weekend, shooting our fireworks, and having a nice time. The day started off fine enough. We had about $200 worth of fireworks, plenty of food, and some other enhancers of fun. Seeing as how we had a decent stockpile, we figured we could start the fun early while it was still daytime. We set up some of the lower yield items and took turns launching them while sipping beers. The cabin was set in a pretty level field, with a small grove about half a mile behind it.

We were sure to aim the rocket straight up and away, so that even if they fell without detonating, they wouldn't land within the grove. One firework, fired from a decorative cardboard launch pad, went soaring through the sky like an artillery shot, trailing red smoke as if it was a very smoke as if it was a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a grovelder. curling red smoke as it went. We waited for the inevitable boom of its detonation, but, after more than the instruction allotted time, heard nothing. The, oh no, panic then set in, and the three of us went sprinting into the grove.

Ellen fumbling with a fire extinguisher she brought as she ran, Marissa scooping up some water bottles from a pack. We entered the grove and immediately smelled smoke. Ellen sprinted ahead of me, cursing as she went. Marissa kept pace with me. After no longer than ten seconds of all out sprinting, the three of us entered a clearing and came upon a building of flame. Ellen's fire extinguisher spat out that white foam,

but the fire's coverage of the building was total. She only managed to extinguish a small section of the building's corner. This is not good, we go into jail. Marissa was having a full blood. and panic attack, while Ellen watched helplessly. She'd been the one to fire the rocket, and, with the fire being so close to a property, she'd be held responsible. Turning away from the fire, I told Marissa to give me a phone so I could call the fire

department before the flames spread to the undergrowth. Just as I was about to dial, Ellen smacked the phone from my hand. Marissa and I responded with simultaneous shouts of, What the hell? but Ellen merely turned off focus to the building. The fire had burned itself out. The only noticeable damage to it was the incineration of a canopy of leaves and foliage. Blackened leaves curled and fell away from it.

Bushes at its edge hosted dying embers. Ellen walked around with a fire extinguisher, snuffing out the small residual fires. The building had been protected from the flames by an armour of nature. well that's pretty lucky marissa had calmed down and seemed almost elated now that we weren't an immediate threat of arrest for arson ellen and i joyfully agreed as for the building itself i suppose you could call it a shack when the foliage had been burned away eerily quickly might i add revealed there was a simple wooden building its roof slanted and cracked its walls in a similar state of disrepair. As for the building itself, I suppose you could call it a shack. When the foliage had been burned away,

eerily quickly, might I add, revealed there was a simple wooden building, its roof slanted and cracked, its walls in a similar state of disrepair. There was no door, but the darkness inside was absolute. Nothing could be seen of its interior from the outside. It wasn't a large building,

but gazing into that darkness made it seem as if it was measurably empty, spatially inconsistent with the outside. Ellen, who I guess you can call the bravest of us, found the structure to be immediately and irresistibly interesting, whereas Marissa and I were unsettled by the thing. Marissa was never one to venture into strange places, and had always played the role of lookout when the three of us would go urbexing. I don't mind abandoned or disused places and can even enjoy a bit of the peril

encountered during the exploration of them but something about that shack felt different its rudimentary construction an ostensibly boundless interior setting off some primitive alarm in my brain I asked Marissa if she wanted to stay behind and after gazing around the area she said she'd rather accompany us

I'd felt a change in the atmosphere of the grove since the diminishing of the flames, and while the shack was undeniably ominous, something about the area outside it seemed equally odd. We left our bags outside, setting them and what appeared to be a stone bench covered in weeds, bringing with us only our flashlights. Ellen led the way, I followed behind,

and Marissa held onto my shoulder. We entered as if walking into some cavernous expanse, holding on to each other like cave explorers rather than a small woodland hut. Some superstitious part of me thought that the beams of our flashlights wouldn't penetrate the darkness, that we were really walking into some place

whose humble exterior bellied its true nature. But the light cut through the darkness easily enough, dispersing the shadows to reveal and mostly empty, albeit dust-covered room, save for one substructure straight to be able to be. ahead. A small stone well. I hadn't ever seen a well within a building, although I suppose the overarching structure performed the same purpose as the little roof you'd often see attached to outside wells,

which this one did not have. A wooden bucket was suspended in the usual manner above the well, from a height level with our heads. There was nothing else in the room. Ellen passed a flashlight to me, which I took in my free hand, and then she went to the well and peered into the bucket. Marissa asked what was inside, and Ellen didn't respond for a moment, looking deeper into it, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

It's like a black sludge, but there's little lights inside. Looks like lightning bugs, but I don't think there are bugs at all. Equally afraid of bugs as she was ruinous places Marissa didn't venture forth to check out the bucket for herself so I did Ellen took back a flashlight and stepped aside

allowing me to look in I saw exactly what she had described a thick black substance with little moats of light that seemed to swim inside of it but something about their movement seemed too insubstantial for them to be insects. Oddly, I couldn't help but think that if space were fluid, this is how stars would appear, ebbing on the celestial tides. It was both eerie and fascinating, and I had a hard time

peeling myself away from the bucket. I asked Marissa if she'd like to look, assuring her that it wasn't anything too gross, but she declined. I figured that was the extent of interest in the well and had turned back to leave when Ellen tipped the bucket dumping its contents into the well. For some reason, this felt wrong. An immediate sensation of fright overtook me. I stared at her, angered for a reason I couldn't understand, but I saw that she felt the same, regretted the thing she'd just done. I was going to speak up, confirm that she felt the same way, when something caught my attention.

or rather, the absence of something. There hadn't been a splash, or any indication that the substance had come into contact with something below. I have no idea how far down the average well goes, but I was sure that some rickety, forgotten structure of clearly pre-modern age wouldn't have been very deep. How far does this thing go? Marissa's voice startled me.

I'd been listening so intently for any sound which would have indicated that the substance had reached the bottom. I don't know. Ellen, go look down with your flashlight. Despite her demonstrated bravery, my suggestion wasn't something she jumped to, but a moment later she was peering into the well, shining a light into its depth. I don't see anything. It's too far down. This disturbed me, as I'm sure it did the other two. A seemingly deptless well, above which hung some black substance bearing a star-like quality within.

These were certainly odd circumstances. Ellen seemed doubly disquieted, the well sitting so close to her home. We should go. Marissa's comment was unanimously agreed to, and we all headed for the exit. But before we passed this, through the threshold. A deep sigh erupted from the well, like the exhalation of some long-buried

thing. It froze us in place, crystallizing my blood. In that moment, I felt pathetically weak, as if I had gone through life under the delusion that I was somehow stronger than I really am. My heart rate escalated,

working the thaw of the blood frozen in my veins. Ellen and Marissa seemed to go through similar struggles, each struggling to look to each other and then to that well. I managed to regain a bit of my composure and movement and looked into the darkness where the well was barely visible. I shied my light on it, but saw only the loose fitting stones and the cracked wooden bucket.

For the first time, I noticed that the crank, which lowered and raised the bucket, was missing, broken off by someone, since there weren't any signs of intrusion of nature. or weather. The longer I held my light on the well, the worse I felt. The anticipation of something sinister arising from the well caused a wave of anxiety to rise within me. Since my friends had yet to completely snap out of their petrification, I turned and pushed them, desperately wanting to leave the shack and put considerable distance between us and

it. Unfortunately, the sudden forceful movement was too much for the floor of the shack. It collapsed a moment later, plunging the three of us into darkness. I don't know how long we fell. I must have briefly fainted from sheer terror, but I landed third atop Ellen. I grogily apologised, but she didn't seem to mind the impact. Still dazed as a result of that odious sigh. Our flashlight had come free from my hands and fallen on their own.

One lay in the floor ahead of me, its beam shining to my left, illuminating Marissa. She was lying on her back and for a moment I feared that she had landed headfirst but she stirred and eventually sat up. I picked up one flashlight

handed another to Ellen and rolled the third to Marissa. Once fully recovered we first shined them up above. To my surprise we'd fallen only about ten feet. The hole above us was roughly circular. The broken

edges of the board, oddly uniform. The light, which entered the upper room from the outside, did not reach below to us, despite the short distance of the drop. Turning our lights to the room around us, we saw that it was as bare as the room above, again, save for a singular item immediately ahead of us. It was a body. Time. Who knows how long, and corruption had assailed the thing, leaving.

it in a state of extreme decomposition. The clothes, clearly of much older era, were in tatters. Any colour they'd once possessed were now washed out or replaced with the stains of decay. Bones stuck out from pant legs and blackened but greenish flesh show beneath Mothington holes in the fabric. Portions of the skull were exposed on the head, yellowed and lacking any ossary luster. The body looked to be decades, if not centuries old. and yet it also seemed to have been weirdly preserved in some undefinable, non-physical way. I noticed that it had once been propped against the wall ahead.

Around its neck was a clamp, the ends of which held holes, through which the rings of a chain, still attached to the wall, must have gone through at some form of time. But now it was slumped over to the right, when facing it, free of its undoubtedly uncomfortable imprisonment, a freedom that had obviously occurred too late. Oh my God, look. I followed Ellen's finger,

which at first seemed to just point to the corpse. Seeing nothing new, I stepped closer to her, and my body nearly regained its form of rigidity at what I saw. On the floor, right beside the corpse, was a puddle. The liquid was the same black substance Ellen had dumped from the bucket. The well, apparently, was directly above the body.

So, they lowered whatever was in there down to him, for him to eat, drink? Marissa's voice trembled, and I'm glad she spoke up. I doubt I would have been able to offer an intelligible thought on Ellen's observation at that moment. Your guess is as good as mine, Ma. I hadn't heard Ellen call Marissa by a nickname since Charles. She was both fascinated and frightened. I looked back to the body and saw something which seemed to disprove Marissa's theory. I came closer, shining my light on the corpse's hand, what was left of them as I went.

I brought their attention to what I had found, and together we stared with renewed uncertainty at the mysterious corpse. He wasn't meant to drink it. He couldn't have. His hands were chained as well. Well. Marissa backed away as she said this, the beam of a flashlight widening despite the entirety of the once-restrained figure. Ellen was quiet for a while, before finally saying, Whatever that stuff was, it was meant to be dumped on him.

It was so obvious. He'd been upright. The contents of the bucket would have come down and drenched him. For what purpose? It was unknowable at the moment. But it was clear. That was the intention of the well's placement and his initial restraint. The sludge pulled beside him, still strangely starry, yet otherwise innocuous.

Having seen enough of the corpse and no longer wanting to remain in some subterranean dungeon, we decided to climb to the upper floor. Marissa crouched to the back against the wall opposite the corpse, hands out together, and Ellen stepped on them. Marissa boosted her up And once there Ellen leaned over and pulled Marissa up I was next

And had just been ready to outstress my hand When I heard a sound It was a soft crack Like a stick being partially broken Turning around I saw that the sludge had spread Beyond its initial pooling Reaching a gnarled hand

Of the corpse The hand remains submerged only for a moment. The next, I saw it move. The fingers uncurled and curled again. The skin growing taut as the hand's flexibility was tested. The next moment, the hand was raised and brought to the head, still dripping the substance. Droplets fell upon the body as the hand slowly came to the corpse's face.

Once there, it wiped the remaining sludge across the skin and exposed bone. It then fell limply down to the floor and the corpse, screw still. But only a moment later, I heard that sigh, which had just minutes ago paralyzed us on the upper floor. This time I actually saw the chest inflate and deflate as the breath was drawn in and released. My face must have held an expression of extreme terror because Ellen screamed at me to grab a hand. She couldn't have seen the corpse's activity from the perch above. It was too far ahead in the room. I wanted to reach for a hand

but my body was no longer under my control paralysing fear prevented even the slightest physical exertion it felt as if I had been caught by the watchful eye of some titan thing and could do nothing but stand there and await a footfall and doom after the sigh the corpse again became animate

I watched with ever-increasing terror as the body shifted and the limbs moved about. The black sludge stained its flesh in clothing as it writhed and seemed to excite it further, as if renewing its physical capabilities. At one point it tried to stand and I was sure that it would have been eaten or butchered or otherwise assaulted by the undead thing

but either its bones are too brittle or its muscles too withered because it failed in this attempt. grab my hand now Ellen's voice boomed and although the corpse was clearly reanimating I winted at the sound not wanting to give it a reason to hasten

its resurrection somehow against the petrification which had seized me I managed to raise a shaking hand Ellen immediately grabbed it and with a strength I hadn't known she possessed pulled me up but as I ascended

in what could have been more than half a second, I saw into the empty black sockets of its skull. Simultaneously with this, it had raised the rotten hand, and upon locking its eyes, it spoke a single word. Despair. Ellen pulled me up and practically threw me onto the top floor. Marissa stood mostly outside, gripping the threshold and leaning in. Ellen helped me to my feet and half carried me out of the building.

She sat me on the bench, rifled through a pack and pulled out a bundle of fireworks. She passed them to Marissa, who apparently knew what was intended without being said. A few seconds later, they were throwing the lit fireworks into the hut. They didn't wait for detonations. Once one was tossed, another was lit and thrown. A few landed in the hole through which we had fallen, and one or two even saw directly into the well. Had the circumstances been different, I'm sure applause would have been in order.

The detonations were loud, the acoustics increased considerably by the structures interior. Ellen helped me up, and together the three of us hobbled away as the bombardment went on. We arrived back at Ellen's house half an hour later. I was laid in Ellen's bed while she and Marissa sat in the living room. I could hear them speaking. but couldn't make out their words. I was tired, as I'm sure they were as well. And, while my tiredness was partially owed to the physical exertions of the experience,

something else bothered and debilitated me. I haven't told them this. Can't bring myself to explain it to them. But I felt something horrible, just as I was being pulled from that dungeon. When my eyes looked into the eyeless recesses in its scum, when it uttered the word despair. Something overcame me in that moment. I'll do my best to describe it.

It was like the instant onset of extreme depression. I had never really believed in people having spirits before, but in that moment it felt as if mine had been taken from me, or at least reduced in some metaphysical or spectral way. I felt withered, immediately and totally. This is awful enough, but the worst thing was that this dark sensation was subsequently enticing. In the span of less than a second, I was introduced to this ultra depression, and yet afterwards, it felt intoxicating. I suppose it's vaguely similar to the loss of inhibition with certain drugs and alcohol,

the resultant thrill of no longer abiding by one's own or society's expectations. but in this case the thrill was exposed myself to some abysmal spiritual ruin I wanted to submit to it wanted to reject whatever sanctity of self that exists within us it weakened me

captivated me made me desire nothing but the obliteration of my own being at the hands of something it I can hear Marissa and Ellen talking in the room clearly now the voice is already

raised. Ellen wants to go back and make sure the place burn down. Marissa wants Ellen to take us all away from here. I don't know what I want. I feel weak and just listening to them puts a strain in my nerves. But something inside me, some deeper than primal feeling is tickling my brain, imploring me to return to the well, drop down to the lower floor and offer myself to that black oblivion that I tasted. I don't know what will happen in the next few hours. So, I've decided to share my story, just in case I'm unable to later.