CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "People In My Family Don't Just 'Die', We Go To A Better Place" Creepypasta

Episode Date: February 26, 2022

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by beardify: 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-

Oh, my young, that I'm in three days. I'm a moor as I'm more on think. Oh, that to seeer that morning off must. I'm all mooh as I'm just on tomorrow. Oh, this is I'm all moor as I'm on thinking. Have you it mollick at home to come? Give you yourself then a boost. With biocure, Maxhot Liquid.

Three up-puppant plants. Magnesium, Izer. An energy booster, to immediately again to come out. Bio-cure, Max-Shot Liquid. Foodings Supplement, People don't just die. I remember yelling at Carmen in third grade.

They go to a better place. Nah-uh, Carmen sneered. When people get old, they die. D.I.E. Then they get put in the ground and you never, ever see them again. I covered my eyes and ran away crying. Thinking about grandma under the dirt with the dark and worms. It was just too horrible.

Mama had said Grandma is in a better place now And Mama wouldn't lie Would she? When my mother explained That I wouldn't be seen my grandmother again She gave me a chain bracelet With a tiny key on it

A steel one in the shape of some weird animal pawprint I held it to my chest like a talisman Until I got control of my breathing And the tears stopped As my friends and I got older death crept into our childhoods. We learned the meaning of words like hospitals, hospice, nursing homes, funeral homes, visitations and cemeteries, and a lot of us learned the hard way.

It was after a candlelight vigil of a slain high school classmate that I finally got the nerve to ask. Mom, I asked, where is grandma buried? What kind of talk is that? Mom scolded. You know that your grandmother's not in some nasty grave. graveyard, she's moved on. I robbed my eyes, but I didn't push it. The thing was, this better place was a constant theme in our lives. My mother was a doctor, even though she disliked medicine and found patients twice as irritating.

When I asked her about her career, though, she just smiled and shook her head. If you work hard for your family, you'll be rewarded when you get to a better place. It was the same story she used to soothe me when I was bullied or failed at something important to me. Just think about how temporary and unimportant this stuff is, she'd say, squeezing my shoulder. When all is said and done, you're going to spend eternity somewhere else. Yeah, yeah, I thought bitterly, in a better place. When I was in college, my best friend, Hunter's father died unexpectedly. A heart attack, even though the man was barely 60.

It tore Hunter up inside, having to juggle the funeral arrangements, the inheritance paperwork, and his own struggle to graduate. But it did give me the push I needed to finally talk to my mom about the future. I confronted her after Thanksgiving dinner that year. Look, I sighed, we need to have a plan for if the worst should happen. She looked at me with a blanks. there. I groaned. I'm not a child anymore. I know that one day you're going to move on, and it helps to have some things prepared. A grave plot, embalming or cremation options, a will. You won't need any of those things. My mother waved a hand. Everything this family owns already

has your name on it, and when I get old, well, it'll just be my time to go to her. Mom, I shouted, losing my temper. I'm talking about something real, not just some imaginary better place. But honey, my mother whispered gravely. There is a better place. You're old enough now. I suppose it's time for me to show it to you. I stared, dumbfounded as my mother stood up.

Slowly, age was making a stiff and used a poor-shaped key like mine to unlock the wall safe beside a desk. The key emblem matched the lock perfectly. How had I never noticed this? it before. A symbol must have been mum's fail safe in case she moved on before she'd had a chance to tell me the truth. Mom showed me the maps of a huge patch of land about an hour outside of town. It was in the middle of nowhere and at first it looked like nothing but forest

until I saw a tiny structure in the middle of all those trees. A better place lodge read the caption. This is what your great-grandmother, your grandmother and I dedicated our lives to, buying this land so that you and your children will have someplace peaceful to go when it's time to take the next step. I hope you'll be able to contribute as well, adding to the land for our descendants. There's like a couple thousand acres here, I gasped. I finally understood. By investing in land, My mom was creating a legacy for the future. And with the lodge, where I suppose the cemetery was as well, she was creating a sentimental gathering place for our family.

I was touched. Can we visit? It isn't time for that yet, Mom cut me off. It's a wilderness out there, dangerous if you're not ready. She looked out the window, with a look in her eyes, that was almost like longing. trust me when it's time you'll know I nodded but I couldn't let it go

the knowledge that my family owned an enormous tract of land barely an hour away that I'd never visited ate away at me like worms chewing through an apple maybe it was dangerous for someone my mom's age to go traips into the forest but I was young and healthy I'd invite some friends just to be on the safe side Matt was my boyfriend, so he was practically obligated to join our little expedition. Sarah and Hunter were always down for an adventure.

Sarah wanted to work for parks and wreck after graduation, and the pile of topographic maps that I snuck out of Mom's Safe made a lot more sense to her than it did to me. There's not a lot here, Sarah had frowned at the map. Rolling hills covered with trees, a few creeks, This pun right by the lodge might be a nice camping spot though. Even with Sarah navigating, we drove past the tiny turnoff twice. Finally, we made the sharp downhill turn and were confronted by a gate over the gravel.

A better place lodge. Private property, family only. Danger. No trespassing. I recognised the symbol on the padlock. Using the poor key around my wrist, I swung the squeaking gate. open. The way was unblocked, but I had doubts that Hunter's car could make it. The dirt track was pitted, overgrown, and obviously hadn't been used in years. We exchanged a glance.

Hunter sighed, pulled up the parking brake, and the four of us set off through the shoulder-high weeds with our camping gear. It was a good thing we hadn't taken the car. The brush was so high at times that all I could see of my friends ahead of me was Sarah's silly ranger hat, bobbing along like a strange ship on a sea of grass. The car disappeared almost immediately, and, after an hour of trudging, I began to get a tight feeling in my stomach. This wasn't a place for humans, I thought. There hadn't been a single trail, signpost, or other sign of life since we left the gate.

Is it much further? I broke down and asked Sarah, It's your land, she rolled her eyes. Shouldn't you know? I took out my maps, but couldn't make any sense of them. Matt slapped a bug on his sunburn neck and glared at me as if to say, This is your fault. Hunter was holding his fingers to the sun,

although he knew as well as the rest of us that we only had a couple of hours of daylight left. Finally, Sarah sighed and came over to help. If we keep the same pace, we should be there in about two out. Ah! Matt had gone on ahead. And as he screamed, three black shapes burst through the undergrowth. He'd frightened a group of wild boars. Look if they didn't gore you, Hunter chuckled.

With a final glare in my direction, Matt stunked onward down the trail. The lodge was closer than we'd expected. Its enormous logs were ancient, pre-day. even my great-grandmother's generation. A chill ran up my spine. I wondered just how long my family had been interested in this place. And why? The brush all around the lodge had been beaten down and flattened,

almost like some sort of field-sized nest. I walked up the centuries-old wooden steps as if in a dream. My key fit perfectly into the poor-shaped lock. What could have done that? to the grass, Matt wondered aloud as I stepped into the cool darkness of the lodge interior. There were no lights, of course, but when I pushed open the thick shutters, evening light poured in. It caught hundreds of bits of glass, bead, and crystal that hung against the far wall. It was a kind of shrine, a shrine to my family, to those who'd gone before.

I saw a black and white photo of my grandmother, another of my great-grandmother, and agarotypes or painted portraits of others I'd never met. They had two things in common. They were all women, and they all looked at least a little bit like me. Beads, feathers, bird claws, bones, coins, and countless other objects hung like dream catchers around each photo. They clattered and jangled as around my fingers over. over them, like they were trying to whisper a family secret. Before I could investigate further, the sun disappeared behind the black pines and plunged the lodge into gloom.

Smells like wet dog, Hunter grunted from the doorway. Hey, we're not sleeping in here, are we? I heard Sarah calling to him, probably from down by the pond. With a last longing look at my ancestors, I closed and relocked the door behind me. I swore to myself that our family's secret, whatever it turned out to be, would be safe with me. Golden evening light danced on the black water of the little lake beside Better Place Lodge, while we set up our camp and a little cook fire. Hunter cursed as he banged poles together.

Sarah lost the boot to the mud by the water, and Matt burned himself making soup. But I just looked back at the trees with an uneasy feeling in my gut. there was more than just sunstroke and hunger. As the twilight deepened, it got harder and harder to convince myself that those movements between the trees were just the trick of the light. I had mixed feelings about the laughter and catcalls

from around the bonfire behind me. I felt responsible for bringing them here, and I was pretty sure that if I forced them to march back to the car in the dark because of a feeling I got, I'd lose my friends for good. On the other hand, there was definitely something strange about my family's better place, something that made me feel the pull of the woods as strongly as the call of my name from our campsite.

I sighed. The soup was getting cold, and besides, everything would be clearer in the morning. I wasn't sure what worked me up that night. When I reached out for Matt, all I touched was his unzipped sleep. bag. The tent flap was open as well, letting in the light of the full moon overhead. It was like a dream. I stepped out into a misty field that glimmered like silver, dodging the ashes of the campfire. I followed my boyfriend's footsteps toward the trees. I was deep in the shoulder-high grass when I noticed the broken stalks and blackish stains around me. It looked less

like footsteps, and more like something had been dragged, something that bled. I leaned forward for a closer look, peeling along the damp dirt like a blind man, but a halve from the trees stopped me in my tracks. It was the lowest, deepest, longest wail that I'd ever heard. No dog even came close. Sarah and Hunter burst from their tent behind me. What the hell was that? Sarah hissed.

I don't know, I muttered, but we need to get to the lodge. We ran blindly toward the black structure on the horizon. I wasn't looking behind me, but I heard the tiny yelp as Hunter disappeared into the undergrowth and felt Sarah's shoulder slam into me as she sprinted up the steps to pound, animal-like on the locked door. Somehow I got her out of the way and inside, putting thick wood between us,

and whatever was out there. We had no flashlights, and it must have been pure instinct that made us back away from the door and into the pitch-black room behind us. What are those things? Sarah whispered. I don't know, I murmured. I only saw shadows. That wasn't exactly true.

I'd seen long, hairy limbs, sharp teeth flashing in the moonlight, something twice my height hunched over and charging through the grass. But what was the point of scaring Sarah further? Heavy steps made the lodge porch creak and groan. We both stopped breathing for a moment. The silence was absolute until I heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock.

I'd never seen anything like the thing that locked on all fours into the lodge. A steel key like mine clutched in its claws, but it had my grandmother's eyes. Four more followed, too tall to stand up, even in the high-roofed lodge. My grandmother's enormous jaws clamped around Sarah's face, snapping her neck and flinging her out of the door

like she'd never been standing by my side. Another monster with eyes like mine shook its head at me reproachfully before it slunk outside that joined the feeding frenzy. It felt like ages before the sound of ripping tendons and crunching bone finally came to an end and dawn's grey light crept through the shutters of the lodge. I walked through the open door and down the overgrown track with my eyes straight ahead. I did my best to ignore the red patches of grass and the dark shapes following my progress beneath the trees.

It gave me a lot of time to think about monstrous yet familiar things that hunted this better place about what that meant for my family and I. I rolled Hunter's car into a ravine and locked the gate behind me. When I called Mom from a nearby gas station, I didn't have to explain anything. It was like she already knew.

We drove home in a complicit silence, thinking, I suppose, about our future in a better place. Of course, all that was dead. decades ago. Time enough for me to watch my own mother go through the changes, just as she did with her mother before her. Time enough to prepare myself for what was coming. It won't be long now. I can feel my old bones lengthening into something stronger. And no matter how much raw meat I eat on full moon night, it never seems to be enough.