CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "My little brother found something buried in our back garden" Creepypasta

Episode Date: July 18, 2020

GET YOUR FREE E-BOOK HERE► https://www.samhaysom.com/CREEPYPASTA STORY►by samhaysom: 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- Luis Tomás Redondo: ►https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Rw63D►https://www.instagram.com/luistomasart/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've been on the run for 17 hours now. I have no idea where I am. Not exactly. I know I'm somewhere in the new forest, but after the first few hours, I completely lost my bearings. And now that it's dark out, I don't have any idea at all.

It doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore. What matters is I can finally see lights bobbing through the pine trees in the distance. Yellow lights in the dark. I'm crouched in a ditch, half hidden in the undergrowth, haven't moved in ten minutes. My skin is dirty and sweat soaked, my feet hurt, legs feel like they're on fire. I think my time on the run might finally be coming to an end.

I hope I still have enough time yet though, enough time to tell this story. I only have two things in my pockets and one of them is my phone. I've kept a little running diary in the note section ever since I got it. Just a few thoughts each day. Over the past few days, I've been writing in it more than usual. A lot more. I've had good reason to. What follows is everything I wrote down since last Tuesday.

That was the day after my little brother's birthday. The day after Jamie turned 12. The same day, we used this brand new metal detector for the first and last time. Thursday. Jamie wanted to use the metal detector ever since he unwrapped it, but yesterday was a no-go.

Too much rain. I was kind of hoping it might rain again today, so I wouldn't be roped into helping him, but no luck. Bright, screaming sunshine, not a cloud in the sky. The little turd burst into my room before 10 a.m. This manic grin on his face,

and that was it. Any hopes of a quiet day playing video games were over. I shouldn't be too harsh on Jamie, though. I know I'm a few years older than he is, but I still enjoy hanging out with him. He asks a lot of annoying questions, and he can be a pain, but he's okay, really.

Our session with a metal detector was more fun than I was expecting, too, at least at first. I didn't think the thing would work, but we ended up finding a bunch of stuff. A couple of screws and nails, a tent peg, a few coins. They were only pennies, but Jamie's eyes lit up when we dug them out as if he'd stumbled across a box of gold.

The whole ritual was sort of entertaining. Walking up and down the garden, scanning the detector back and forth over the grass, waiting for the beeps to change to a solid hum of sound. I'll admit it. Whenever the thing picked something up, even though I knew it was probably going to be junk, I felt a flare of excitement in my stomach. And the last reading we got had us both going.

It was our strongest signal yet, by quite some way. With the coins and the screws, the metal detector only briefly hummed as it passed over them, probably because they were so small. But the reading we got in the far corner of the garden, in the shadows of the silver birch tree was way better. A long, drawn-out beep. It sounds like that hospital show

mum watches when someone dies, and I couldn't help but grin. Then I started digging. Finding what the detector had picked up didn't take long. The thing was only buried about eight inches from the surface. We didn't know what it was at first.

To begin with, looking down at his dirt and crest. shape, I assumed it was just some random junk. It wasn't, though. Jamie dusted the crud off, and I saw that it wasn't. It was this little cube of metal, not much bigger in size than a matchbox. The face is smooth and flat, just a single, unbroken line running around its middle. Jamie held the thing up above his head, staring at it, his eyes wide and round.

When I called his name a second later, he didn't even react, just stared at the thing as though he couldn't hear me. He only jerked out of his trance when I reached out to try grab it off him. Get lost, Max, it's mine! He yanked his arms away and stepped out of my reach. For a second, I saw something flash across Jamie's eyes, something that almost made me take a step back. It was a flash of something I'd never seen on my little brother's face before Not anger, exactly

I'd seen that plenty of times But a sort of darkness That's the only way I can describe it And it was gone so quickly I thought I might have only imagined it A second later Jamie was stuffing the cube in his pocket Along with the other things we'd found

And muttering something about it only being rubbish Before I had a chance to question him, Mum called us in for lunch. Friday. I'm worried about Jamie. Really, I am. I didn't see the kid all morning, and when he finally came down for lunch,

he looked like he hadn't slept. He definitely hadn't showered either. His hair looked like a bird's nest, and the corners of his eyes were caked with crust. They had bags beneath them too. dark semi-circles like bruises Jamie sat at the table without saying anything and he barely touched the mouthful of his beans on toast

just pushed them around the plate with his fork when mum asked him if he was okay he mumbled something about feeling poorly then left for his room I followed him not straight away but after a gap of five minutes or so once I'd finished eating crept up the staircase of our cottage

as quietly as I could, Jamie's door was shut. No sound on the far side of it. You can normally hear YouTube or the gunshots from some video game when you walk past it, so this was already unusual. I tiptoed over and pressed in here to the wood.

I couldn't hear anything. Not at first. Just the weird seashell-like rush of my own blood. But then, after a few seconds, I caught the sound of James' voice. A constant, low murmur, as though he was whispering to someone. The noise made the skin of my neck prickle.

Could the kid be on his phone in there? It was possible, of course. Not out of the question. Maybe he was chatting to one of his friends. I didn't think so, though. The sound of his voice was low and unbroken, almost like he was singing under his breath, or chanting.

There were no pauses while he waited for someone else to respond. After a couple more seconds, I decided to bite the bullet. Jamie? I knocked lightly on his door. Jamie, you there? Silence. The murmuring cut off. All I could hear now was my heartbeat and that constant background rush of my own blood.

Jamie? still no response. I was a little creeped out, but I was also starting to get a bit annoyed by this point. Why the hell was he ignoring me? After a couple more seconds of silence, I lost the last of my patience. Jamie's door doesn't have a lock on it,

so on an impulse I twisted the handle and shoved it open. Jamie was sat on his bed by the window, staring at something in his hands. As the door opened, he stuffed the thing back in his pocket before I could get a look at it. Then he stayed up at me with white eyes. What the hell are you doing in here? I asked, staring around Jamie's dark room.

The curtains were drawn and clothes are strewn across the floor. His bed clothes were ruffled. You know Mom's going to kill you if you don't tidy this place up? Jamie didn't say anything. Just stare at it. at me with an expression I couldn't place. Hello? Am I talking to a brick wall?

Jamie kept staring for a few more moments. Then, abruptly, he flopped back onto his bed. Lay completely still. I told you, he muttered. I'm not feeling well. I opened my mouth to say something else. Then gave up. Reached out and pulled the door to his room shut.

As I was walking away down the corridor, I thought I heard a faint rustling sound as if Jamie had started moving in there again the moment I left Saturday. I don't know what to do. I'm writing this in the darkness of my bedroom at 4 a.m. The house around me is silent. I can't sleep. I tried to for a while, but it was never going to happen. My mind is too active, too busy swirling with images of what I saw in the garden, what I saw when I looked out the window. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I need to get my thoughts in order. Start at the beginning. I went out with my friends yesterday afternoon, so I didn't see Jamie for the rest of Friday. I got home after dinner and went straight upstairs to watch a film. Then I fell asleep around 11. I woke up about an hour ago. It was a noise that did it. You ever wake up knowing you've heard something, some outside sound,

but when you open your eyes, you're so disoriented, you can't tell what it is. It was like that earlier. I fought my way out of some bad dream, my skin covered in sweat, and at first all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart. Thump, thump, thump. I sat up in bed, listening, feeling on edge for a reason I couldn't place. The house around me was quiet. There was no faint downstairs noise from the TV, which meant it really must be late.

Dad normally goes to bed around midnight, so the house is only really quiet during the early morning hours. I was about to lie back down when I heard it. the soft faint click of a door shutting somewhere downstairs I tensed could it be mum or dad heading down to get a drink of water that was my first thought

but I dismissed it straight away the sound had been too quiet as if the person making the sound was trying not to make any noise at all mum and dad might be a bit careful if they got up in the night but they were never that careful I swung my legs out from under my duvet and touched them down on the carpet. My room was warm, but my skin prickled with goosebumps.

Burglar. That was the only thing running through my sleep fogged brain right then. Oh Jesus, what if someone's breaking in? I stumbled over to my window and peaked through a crack in the curtains. My room overlooks the back garden, and I immediately had a view. of moonlight spilling over grass, illuminating everything with its silver glow. The bird's tree stood in the back corner, casting a shadow across the lawn that looked like a giant talon.

Someone was standing beneath it. I felt my heart pushed its way up to my throat. Every inch my skin prickled. There was a person standing at the base of the tree, their face hidden in the shadows. I stared down at them, completely frozen, and it was only when the person moved that I suddenly realized. It was Jamie. He shifted from his position and moonlight struck his face.

I couldn't see his expression from where I was standing, but I could see where he was looking. The kid was staring down at an object, cupped in the palms of his hands, an object that glinted in the light from the moon, It was the thing we'd found buried in the garden. I don't know how I knew this, but I did. I knew it straight away.

It was the little cube we found using the metal detector. The same cube, I suddenly realized, that Jamie had been studying in his room when I barged in on him yesterday. As I watched, Jamie continued to stare down at it, and then, abruptly, he twisted it in his hands. I don't really know what happened next. Or rather, I know what I think happened, but I don't know if I believe it or not.

I don't know how I can. Writing this down, in the darkness on my bedroom, a part of me thinks I might have simply imagined it, that my half-a-sleep brain might have just conjured it all up. I don't think so, though. Despite what the nagging voice of my head is suggesting, I really don't think I did. The whole thing felt too vivid for that.

What I saw next were the lights. Bright yellow globes of light, drifting down for the branches of the silver birch tree, floating down like fireflies. Those lights bobbed on the air in an invisible current, dancing around Jamie's head like insects. Large orbs, each about the size of a fist. Jamie turned his head to look at a little bit.

at each of them in turn, his mouth hanging slightly open, and then his head snapped in my direction. I fell back away from the window. Adrenaline flooded through me. As I scrambled backwards across the carpet, I felt my heart thumping in my chest. He'd seen me. I knew he'd seen me. His eyes had been on the floating lights, and then his head had moved sharply and suddenly in the direction of my window. He'd seen me watching him. For a reason, I didn't really understand, the thought filled my stomach with a cold well of fear. I hurried across my room, locked the door, and crawled back into bed. I heard the back door click open a few moments later, heard soft footsteps, patting through the ground floor of the house, the creaking of the stairs. I stared at my bedroom door, ears strained,

waiting with a sudden terror to see if the footsteps would start moving in the direction of my room. They didn't, though. They paused for an impossibly long time on the landing, and then they moved off in the direction of Jamie's room. I kept listening until I heard his door click shut Sunday. I planned it perfectly. Forced myself to get up early, despite a second bad night. sleep, then went to join mom for breakfast, told her I was worried about Jamie, said I didn't

know if he was nervous about going back to school or something, but he hadn't shower for the past couple of days, had barely left his room. I knew she'd react to that, and I wasn't disappointed. She put a coffee down and marched straight upstairs, and I crept up after her, waited just outside my own room, and listened as she barged into Jamie's. I couldn't hear what they were saying to each other at first, but after a while I heard mom ordering Jamie downstairs to the bathroom. Heard her saying that he needed a good wash and a meal and then they'd talk. And a couple of seconds later, I heard a saying something that got my heart raising even quicker. No, don't even think about taking any toys with you.

She wasn't shouting, but a voice was stern. That thing stays here. I want you to be. Even there, giving yourself a proper wash today, mister, no messing around. I heard Jamie mumble something I couldn't hear, and then, a moment later, I heard both of them trudging downstairs. The bathroom door clicked shut, and I listened as Mom's footsteps pat in the direction of the kitchen below me. I heard the flick of the kettle being switched on.

Then, I ran. I tried to move as quickly as I possibly could without making a sound. As I passed the staircase, I heard the shower being turned on downstairs. I quickened my pace. Jamie's door reared up in front of me and I pushed it open, just wide enough so I could slip inside. The place was a mess. The curtains were drawn and the room was a nest of shadows. But even in the darkness, I couldn't see how untidy it was.

Clothes were strewn about on the floor, drawers left hanging open, dirty glasses, and a couple of bowls sat on Jamie's desk. Mom must be worried about him too, I thought. Or there's no way she'd have let him off so lightly just now. I scanned my eyes across the room. I was looking for the little metal cube, but I couldn't see it on Jamie's desk. It wasn't on his bedside either,

or on top of the chest of drawers. He was playing with it on the bed the other day, whispered a voice in my mind. He was sat up in bed, staring down at the thing. That sounded right. If Mum had forced him to leave it where he was when she came in, maybe it was hidden in a fold of his rumpled duvet.

I made my way in that direction, keeping my footsteps light. Downstairs, I could still hear the rush of the shower. The kettle was rummling towards a boil in the kitchen too. We lived in an old house and the noises carry, but sometimes it's useful. The little metal cube wasn't on Jamie's bed I straightened out his duvet making a mental note to rumble it back up again before I left

but there was no sign of anything I was about to turn away when I caught sight of his pillow I reached out but something held me back from rummaging beneath it with my hand instead I grabbed the pillow by the top of its case took a breath and lifted it to one side The little metal cube stared up at me.

It looked exactly the same way as it had the day we'd found it, only cleaner. Without dirt encrusting it, I could now clearly make out the unbroken line running around its middle. Its metal was a dull silver. I stared at it for a second longer, and then I reached out and picked it up. I don't know what happened next. I still don't know what happened I've been thinking about it ever since It's all I've been thinking about

And I don't have the answers All I know for sure is that when I touched the thing I felt a sensation A little like electricity go running up my arm And then I was somewhere else I felt the light shift and change around me One moment I'd been sat in shadows

The next I was standing in a wide, open space filled with a purple glow. Wind whipped around me. It was warm against my skin and I could feel tiny grains on its current. Little particles of grit or sand strike in my face. I still held the cube in my hand. My eyes were fixed on it at first

but at the sudden change in my surroundings I pour my gaze away from it. I raised my head and stared. I was standing outside in the middle of a massive open space. Dark sand crunched beneath my feet. I could see nothing around me for what looked like miles and miles. An impossibly distant row of mountains stood on the horizon.

But that was it. I felt a mixture of terror and awe fighting in my stomach, and I tried to tell myself it was only a dream. Of course it was a dream. I was in Jamie's bedroom At home in our cottage I must have fallen asleep on his bed Wind

gusted against my skin as if in protest had the thought I squinted my eyes And then After a moment I looked up Purple light covered my skin And I guess I was searching for its source

I angled my head To stare at the sky above My eyes were still narrowed and at first all I could see were thin ribbons of light. But then the wind died down again, and I opened my eyes fully. I felt small. I felt smaller than I'd ever felt before in my life. Standing there, looking up at the night sky above me,

a sky I didn't even vaguely recognise, I felt a sense of terror in my stomach that I'd never experienced before. The space above me was like a yawning black ocean, tiny stars glittered inside it like jewels Thousands and thousands of stars More than I'd ever seen during the camping trips Our dad sometimes took us on when we were younger It wasn't the sight of those stars that scared me the most though

It wasn't the gaping black sky either No, what really put the fear in me What filled me with the realization That I was so far out of my depth I might never be able to swim back what was the sight of the moon? Or rather, moons. The giant, purple, twin moons

that hung in the sky above me, each twice the size of our human sun. I don't have much time left now. The lights are getting closer. It's damp in this ditch, damp and cold. My clothes are soaked through and I can no longer hold my phone without my hands shaking. I'll have to be quick.

It was the sound of the bathroom door shutting that jerked me from my chance in the end. That brought me back to James' room. I came to, sitting on his bed. The metal cube clutched so tightly my hand that my knuckles are white. I dropped the thing as if it was burning, put the pillow over it and maneuvered it back into place. Then I crept out of James' room, forcing myself to move carefully, despite the fact I could hear his footsteps on the stairs. As I walked past the staircase, I saw him, head down with a towel wrapped around his skinny waist, trudging up.

He didn't see me. Once I was back in my room, I locked the door, then crawled under the covers. I tried to stop my hands from shaking. But they wouldn't. Jamie found me in the kitchen later. Mom had gone out to get us dinner, and Dad was still off with his friends at the golf course. we were home alone I was making myself

a cup of tea staring into space as the kettle boiled thinking about what I'd seen movement in my peripheral vision made me jump I looked up and saw Jamie

he was standing in the doorway hands pushed deep into his pockets of his hoodie thick bags bruised under the skin of his eyes Jamie stared at me his hands rustling back and forth in his pocket

You saw it, didn't you? He didn't smile as he spoke. I stared at him, trying to keep my face as neutral as I could. So what? Don't try and play stupid. I know you saw it. I know you went into my room. I don't know what you're talking about, Jamie.

He stepped into the kitchen, moved towards me. For some reason, I almost. as flinched, but I forced myself to stand my ground. This was Jamie, my little brother, a scrawny, 12-year-old kid. I had nothing to be afraid of. But even as I told myself that, I did feel afraid. I felt afraid ever since I left Jamie's room earlier. It was no good trying to pretend otherwise, and when Jamie walked even closer, I saw his

hands shift once more in his pockets. my heart began to beat rapidly my chest. You need to keep your hands off my stuff. Jamie stood about a meter away from me now. His eyes locked to mine. You need to stay out of my room, or else. I think, looking back, that was the tipping point. The moment everything began to slide out to control.

I was still afraid, see, but something about Jamie's childish threat, or else, caused me to let out a bark of laughter I couldn't contain. As soon as I did, Jamie's expression changed. Something darkened behind his eyes. A second later, he stepped toward me and pulled his right hand out of the pocket of his hoodie. I saw a flash of silver and tensed, thinking it was the metal cube. I... I... was wrong.

As Jamie waved his right hand over. me, I saw the thing clutching his grip was a Swiss army knife, another birthday gift, this one from our uncle Tony. Jamie had already pulled out the little blade attachment. What the? Jamie stepped forward again and I reached out and grabbed his wrist without thinking. Looking back, I don't think he was going to do anything. I think the main thing he wanted was for me to take him seriously. But the fear inside my stomach made me panic and a second later, we were wrestling with each other in the kitchen, fighting for control of the knife. Jamie let out a yelp of anger.

I'm much bigger than he is, but there was a strength in the kid that day that I'd never seen before. He was like a cornered animal. He wrenched his arm back and forth in an attempt to break my grip, then started swinging kicks into my legs. I grunted in pain and gripped his wrists in both hands, pushing it towards the floor. I don't understand what happened next. I still don't understand it. Those last moments have been replaying on a loop in my head ever since I left home,

ever since I ran away, over and over again. So many times that I no longer know which details are real and which ones my tired mind had invented. All I know for sure is that at some point during our struggle I twisted my hands in the opposite direction in an attempt to catch Jamie off guard. It worked.

Jamie had been putting all his energy into resisting me, so when I abruptly shifted direction, it completely overbalanced him. The effect was much greater than I'd been expecting, and it sent the knife swinging upwards in a frantic arc. Jamie screamed. I stumbled backwards and let go of his wrist. There was a brief, fleeting moment when nothing happened.

where we simply stood facing each other in the silence of the kitchen. Then, Jamie sank to his knees, and I saw blood start to bubble from a cut in his throat. The lights are around me now. Although the glow from my phone screen is dim, I'm going to have to put it away soon. Otherwise, they'll see me. Otherwise, my hiding place in this ditch will be revealed

to whoever's hunting for me in these woods. I don't know what happened after I ran. I don't know what the sequence of events was after I left my brother, dying in the kitchen, and took off into the forest. But I think I can guess. I have 96 missed calls on my phone from my mom, a bunch more from my dad too, plus a fair few from a number I don't recognize. People outlooking for me.

The only real question is who's found me first? The search parties. Or the floating yellow lights I saw that night in the garden. The lights I saw drifting around Jamie and the cube he held in his hands. The little middle cube that's currently resting in my front pocket. I don't know what made me take it in the end. I did it without thinking. Grabbed the tea towel from the oven rail and scooped it out of the pocket in Jamie's hoodie without touching it.

Shuffed it into my jeans. I thought Jamie was already unconscious by then. but as I bent down to get the thing out, he whispered something in my ear, something that sent a cold shiver running down my back. I've seen it, Max. Blood leaked and gurgled from Jamie's throat. His voice was a gravely whisper.

Whole world in that thing. He opened his lips and closed them a few more times, but no more sound came out. His glassy eyes looked straight through me, I turned and fled the kitchen. I've been turning those last words over in my mind ever since. I've been turning them over as I run through the trees and as I've crouched shivering in this ditch.

Whole worlds in that thing. If I close my eyes, I can still picture the windswept deserts I saw in James' room. I can still see those giant twin moons and I can still remember the feeling of awe and terror I felt looking up at them. But was that feeling really any worse than the way I feel now? I'm not sure.

I'm really not sure. All I do know is that the cube in my pocket at least gives me an option. A final get-out. It means that when the time comes, and whatever's behind those lights in the trees catches up with me, I don't have to face them if I don't want to. I can pull the cube out of my pocket, twisted open in my hands, and go somewhere else.