CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Probably the last stream of my career" Creepypasta

Episode Date: June 25, 2021

AUTHOR'S CHANNEL► https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XgdcK...CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Erutious: 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-

There were four of us when we broke into the Megaplex. There was Ralph, better known as Razor, on YouTube, and Dale, better known as Drake Song. The two of them often do head-to-head videos on YouTube, as well as let's plays and other game content where they play the latest games and titles. Jeremy, Kyle and I were just their editing team, but we appeared on the channel often enough to be recognizable.

I was operating the camera that night as we came up to the back door of the Megaplex, ducking under the police tape. What's up, gore hounds? Tonight we have something special for you, Ralph said, trying to keep his voice pitch low and failing. As some of you may know, the Megaplex in our area was closed recently under some very creepy circumstances. He bowled a goofy-looking face that was probably supposed to be creepy. Dale tried to stay in shot, looking unimpressed and striving for that too cool for this. look. Kyle and Jeremy stood outside of the camera, Jeremy waiting for his cue and Kyle

looking around nervously. Ralph had talked us into this and all of us were having second thoughts now that we were here. The payoff would be spectacular, but the risks would definitely be high. For those of you don't know, Dale said, two weeks ago an unknown man came in for a midnight showing of silence of the lambs and killed eight patrons in the theatre. Many of the others escaped, but when the cops burst in, he was nowhere to be found. The theatre has been closed for two weeks now, with no sign of the murderer. So we figure it's the perfect time to break in and play some dead by daylight, maybe some Friday the 13th, as we all sit in different theatres, isolated in the dark.

We were saying break in, because it's sounding more dramatic. In reality, Jeremy worked for the Megaplex as an assistant manager, so he had keys. I kept the camera on Ralph and Dale as Jeremy approached the employs entrance with a crowbar so the camera could easily see him pass. After some grunting and exertion off screen, Ralph and Dale hyping up the stream,

Jeremy slid the keys into the lock and unlocked it with one quick, smooth twist. He gave a mighty strain and pretended to wrench the door open as he turned the handle. I turned to look at the door as the other two congratulated him, and we proceeded into the dark back room.

I had all our laptops in the bag around my back, and I tried not to thump them around too much as we came inside. I would sit in the booth and monitor the streams, collect the video and audio from each session, and piece them together into something cool we could post next week to our channels. The creepy ambience and gameplay would play well together. It would ensure that we had something awesome for maximum viewership, I could also monitor them from the central projection hub in case anything went wrong. The theatre was dark.

The emergency exit signs glaring garrishly at us as we walked through the snack bar and into the common area. The Megaplex had 12 different theatres and allowed each of them to sit in a different one without even having to leave our fingerprints in the one that was still a crime scene. We had toyed with the idea of all of them sitting in there as they played. basking in the atmosphere of death as they played killers and victims. The idea of accidentally leaving evidence behind to incriminate us, however, wasn't particularly appealing. We were already taken a huge risk by doing this. Mitigating risk from here and out was important.

Okay, we're going to get set up. Ralph said to the camera as they stood near the entrance to the theatre hallway. See him on the other side, Gorhounds, he intoned. I switch off the camera and put down the bag as I handed out controllers. Okay, here's your controllers. Take any theatre but seven. Jeremy, show me which key gets me into the booth. Jeremy flipped through them until he found a longish silver one, handing it to me.

This one and the one next to it gets you to the projector cages. You know what you're doing up there, right? He asked for the thousandth time. Hook the HDMI cable from the laptop to the projector. It's not rocket surgery, dude. Please, for the love of God, don't unhawk anything that's already hooked up to the projectors. We're playing a dangerous game already here, and I don't want anyone questioning why wires are suddenly unplugged. I think I can handle it, Jeremy.

Now you guys, go get set up so we can start. They went toward their theatres, and I went towards the projection booth. 30 minutes later, and we were ready to start streaming. The software on each laptop was easy to set up, and hooking the computers to the projectors was pretty simple. Each of their audio feeds let me hear what they were saying and let them communicate with each other through the game's software. They had taken theatres five, six, eight and nine,

leaving Theatre Seven empty between them. I couldn't help but glanced down into the dark theatre as I worked. My eyes straying to it every so often. The lurid red exit signs were the only lights in Theatre Seven, casting police tape and seats in a crimson glow. I cut the screens on for five, six, eight and nine, seen the theatres light up as the screens flickered to life. When the screen for seven came on two,

and felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I glanced at the little window that gave me a bird-eye view of the theatre and nearly dropped the laptop I had been about to move. My vantage point gave me a great view of a large, black shape, standing frozen in front of the screen. I backed away, shakily, startled by the sudden appearance of the gangly shape, and I bumped into a desk as I stumbled away from the frightening sight. I stood, breathing hard, as my mind raced and my brain ran over a thousand different scenarios.

Was that the killer? I cop doing some late-night investigating, a janitor. They weren't moving, so I had probably startled them as bad as they'd startled me. What if it was the killer? They'd said he'd never left, hadn't they? My mind kept plodding over that little nugget as I stood motionless and felt my guts writhing in terror. I needed to get the audio feeds hooked up so I could warn them. I needed to call their cell phone so they could run.

I needed to do something other than just stand here in object terror. But that seemed to be all I was capable of. When he continued to stand motionless, however, I felt my fear ebbed some and took another look. I realised my mistake pretty quickly. The coat had clearly been left over the chair or something. The longer I looked, the more details became apparent. And the stranger it became that I couldn't see arms or legs sticking out of it.

I laughed when I realized I was frozen in fear by someone's left over coat and choked it up to the creepy ambience of this abandoned theatre. I was too jumpy. I had to keep my head in the game. I got back to work. Mike 1, check? I asked, sitting down to test the setup. Check?

said Ralph, and I saw a little light come on in the seating area as his controller came on. Mike 2, check. Check, said Dale. Mike 3, check. Nothing. Mike 3, check. I asked, looking at.

out in Theatre 8. I didn't see anyone sitting in the dark rows of seats and started glancing around to see where Jeremy was. The screen was a solid, staticky white that covered the whole theatre in a bright carpet of light.

By that light, I could see nothing but an empty theatre. This inevitably led my eyes over to Theatre Seven, and I did double-take when I noticed something was amiss. I stood up. up, squinting around the chair that someone had left on the little platform in front of the

screen. The chair was now bare. Just the silhouette behind the white screen. The coat was gone. Sorry, Mike 3 here. I had to go to the bathroom. The coat had been there. I knew I'd seen it.

The ragged old coat had been sitting on a chair in front of the screen. A chair I was now empty. The hood had been up. making me think that someone had been inside it, the arms dangling out like an empty scarecrow. And now it was just gone? The theatre was still empty. I could see it illuminated by the screen,

but the coat had vanished. Hey, are you still there? Control, come back. I shook it off and went back to my setup. Check, mic four. Check and check, Carl said. I got back to the job at hand.

I'd ponder that old coat and his escape act later. However, I would ponder it a lot more than it would ever know. I lined up the cameras so the fans could see and hear them and then we officially started the stream. Our last stream

as it happened. What's up, Gourhounds? I'm joined by Drake Song from the Channel Dragonhorn as well as Kyle and Jeremy, regulars on the show. We're going to be playing some dead by daylight in the bells of the murder megaplex. His head was a little more than a ghostly, floating spectre, as the camera picked it up,

and it made him look a little ghoulish in the dim light. The screens became black as the game started. I watched as they rolled into the selection menu, the game divvying up teams and assigning the killer. I let my mind wander a bit, as I monitored the stream. The boys were enjoying themselves. yelling and screaming whenever the killer would sneak up on them and murder them. They had played three games, Jeremy taking the killer role twice, when someone in the comments started typing in caps and trying to get her attention.

This was pretty typical behaviour. Most of these guys were attention whores, and they wanted to make the highlight reel at the end of the video when we showed great comments or funny commenters. This guy, despite the real, ridicule he was getting from others in the comments, was not letting up, and that drew my attention. Randweene 420. There's a shadow behind Kyle.

Seriously, someone is sneaking up behind Kyle. Someone get Carl's attention. Someone is coming up behind him. I looked at the camera feed, but saw nothing besides Kyle's face lit up by the ghostly light of the movie screen. The game was the kind that was favoured by very music colour palette, and it had bade the theatre in a murky tone. I looked back to chat and saw Randine

still yelling about someone coming up behind Kyle telling him to watch out. I looked back to the feed and nearly fell out to my chair as the momentarily flash of lightning in the game lit up the whole theatre. I had seen someone poised behind him for a bare second.

A black-clad figure in a long ratty coat that I remembered all too well. I keyed up Carl's mic and told him to watch out. but he didn't move. Instead, he continued to look up the screen with that same frozen look of concentration he'd been wearing all night.

Kyle always had this intense look when he gamed, this expression somewhere between concentration and catatonia. I could see the silhouette of the man behind him, but it too was stationary and unmoving. When his feet cut out abruptly, I realized he had been frozen there for about five minutes. I looked out into the theatre and could see Kyle still sitting there, head bent a little. His character was standing still.

Ralph strode by with the Reaper and killed him, dropping him with an easy swive of his sickle. Ooh, tough break, Kyle. He was a lag spike or something. Kyle said nothing. I glanced out at the theatre Ralph was in and saw he was alone in the murky blackness. Ditto for Jeremy and ditto for Ditto for Derry. Dale. I assumed that he was still in the theatre with Kyle, so maybe I had time to warn the others. It occurred to me that this might be an elaborate prank, but surely they would

have told me about it if it were, right? Otherwise, I might call the cops, would you draw attention to our stream and cause us to leave? I keyed up Ralph's mic so the others wouldn't hear me. Ralph, we've got a problem. What's up, homie? Ralph asked, and I could hear the theatre speakers booming in the background. Something's going on. There was someone in the theatre with Kyle, and now he won't respond. He hasn't moved his character,

and I can't raise him on the headset. I think that something's happened to him, but I need you to tell me if this is some kind of goof. Ralph was quiet for a second, before chuckling, kind of weird. I don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about,

but if you're trying to run a prank here, it's not funny. It's creepy enough in this theatre all by itself. I don't need to think about some creeper, looming around in the dark. Look, I'm just telling you, this looks like... But, when I looked out at his theatre, I felt my next word stolen from me.

Someone was standing in the aisle a few feet from Ralph's seat. Someone who was holding a crowbar that dripped wetly. Ralph, behind you! I yelled. But by the time he turned, it was too late. Ralph cringed against the seat in front of him.

as the hooded figure lunged the upraised tool. I watched as his controller spill to the floor, the assailant smashing him across the face with a dripping instrument. He rode him to the ground. Ralph, looking, dazed as he fell. The tool came up with each swing in theatrical horror movie fashion, sending out spraise of blood that coated the seat. The figure rose once he'd finished,

and I could almost feel his eyes on me as he looked up to the projection booth. I stepped back to the computers and came to the computer. peed up to the other two mics. Dale, Jeremy, I need you guys to come to the projection booth now. Why? Dale asked. Someone just killed Ralph. What? Jeremy asked,

and I could hear him standing up. He beat him to death of the crowbar. We need to get the hell out of here, right now. Agreed, said Jeremy. Dale, you and I should head to the emergency exits in the theatre while. But there was a sound like someone tripping over the carpet.

I heard Jeremy. might go dead, and a quick look showed his feet being dragged behind a row of seats. I heard wind passing by Dale's mic as he ran for the exit. I could hear him hyperventilating a little, and as I watched, I could see him running for the glowing exit sign. I could also see the figure step out from the front row and bash him with a crowbar, knocking him sideways into the row of seats. I backed away from the window then, starting to hyperventilate myself. This was crazy.

How had they gotten Dale and Jeremy at the same time? Was there more than one killer? How had they gotten him before us? Have they been waiting the whole time? I shook myself out of my days and decided that I needed to go. I looked at the equipment on the table and decided to leave it pretty quickly. It would slow me down and who really cared if the police found it? I was getting ready to report this the second I got outside anyway.

I glanced through the projector holes one last time, checking to see if anyone was in their theatres and finding no one below. That's when something slammed into the projection room door and I fell in my ass. I scuttled back against the wall, eyes glued to the door that was being violently ran from the other side. Whatever it was, slammed into the door a few more times

before it rattled the handle and found it locked. I was suddenly glad I'd remember. remember to lock it and patting my pockets from my phone. I decided to go ahead and call the police. They could book me for trespassing right after they saved my life. It wasn't till I patted myself down a half dozen times that I remembered I had left it on the table next to my laptop. There was also when I realized that the banging had stopped. I crept on hands and knees towards the desk, praying it hadn't fallen in my panic.

The silence was deafening in the wake of explosive pounding. I kept glancing at the door as I crawled, expecting that any minute the door would just burst open. I was afraid to look up over the edge, fumbling in vain as I tried to find my phone. That's when I heard a truly chilling noise, the last noise I ever expected to hear. The sound of keys being thrust into the lock and the door being opened with a simple turn of the knob.

I sat, huddled beneath the table as a hudded figure wandered into the office. He was tall, his face hidden under the blackness of that dark covering, and his feet echoed off the floor as he stalked towards me. I tried to back up further, but my back smacked against the metal legs of the short table. I felt my legs tremble as I shook,

and I closed my eyes as I expected to die very messily. I opened them again when I heard. The laughter, coming from the doorway, as Ralph and Dale came through the door with her cameras in hand. Oh man, we got you so good, Ralph laughed. He bought it, hookline and sinker. Dale laughed, turning the camera to face him. Another classic prank.

I couldn't believe it. This had all been some stupid prank for the channel. I watched as the killer. doubled over and started laughing too, his crowbar dropping with a plastic thunk to the ground. When the hood came down, I saw that it was Titus, and sometimes rowdy when we took our shows on the road.

Jeremy leaned in the doorway, laughing uproariously as the others high-five and congratulated themselves on scaring me half the death. I wanted to be mad, but I found myself laughing and of pure nervous relief. You jerks, I breathe, accepting Titus's offered hand. You really scare the crap out of me. I slapped Titus on the shoulder.

How the hell did you get across three theatres in a matter of seconds anyway? Titus looked confused. I didn't. I snuck into Ralph's theatre through the fire door and waited for you to notice me. Then I ran out after you turned away, coming up to Dale's theatre and catching him as he tried to escape. I pretended to drag myself behind the seats, Jeremy said. And Kyle? Titus was still laughing, but he looked a little confused.

What about him? We didn't even tell him about the prank. You know Carl's a blabbermouth. He'd have never been able to pull this off. That made me pause for a minute. Where is Kyle? I asked. Not seeing him and really concerned about that for the first time.

Ralph and Dale looked at each other Don't know No way he's still in the theatre I looked down for the box And sure enough Kyle was still in the theatre Unmoving and not playing the game We tried to raise him on the mic again to no avail

And after thumping in the glass for a few minutes to get his attention We decided to go see what was going on with him The five bus came downstairs and crept towards the theatre Kyle was sitting in. The door creaked ominously as Jeremy pushed it and none of us seemed to be in any hurry to step inside. I could see Carl's head framed by the white screen as he sat upright, staring forward,

and moved inside to see what was up with him. I came up behind him, pausing as I caught sight of something I hadn't seen before from my vantage point in the booth. I didn't need to touch him to really, realize. He wouldn't answer me. And they all drew closer as I took a few bulky steps back. There was a machete, stuck through the back of the chair, pinning him to the seat. When the others saw him, they started freaking out, talking all at once as we tried to figure out what to do next. Ralph wanted to call the police. Jeremy wanted to get out of the theatre and then called the police.

Dale just wanted to be out of the theatre. We all kept trying to talk over each other, our terror rising, even as he kept stepping over each other's conversations. That's why it took us so long to realize. The Titus was gone. We looked around for him, but no one could remember if he came into the theatre with us. The last time anyone had seen him was in the projector booth. That seemed to be the deciding fact of Adail. He had his phone out, dialing 911, before anyone could say anything.

about it. Jeremy slapped it out of his hands though, and the two of them stared at each other in surprise. Jeremy seemed as surprised that he had done it, as Dale was that his phone had been slapped away. It bounced under the nearby seats, and the two of them just stood, silently for a few seconds, before Dale asked him what the hell he thought he was doing. I don't want to be involved in this. If you call the cops, I'm going to lose my job. Screw your job, Dale said. At least one person is dead. Let's just leave first. We can get outside and then call them. You two can say that it was just you guys in here and I can't. Dale was dropping to his hands and knees, looking for his phone under the seats. Man, that's some cowardly talk. One of our friends is dead

and you're worried about losing your job. Man, I can't believe I ever... His words were cut off though, when something drug him under the seat and he started screaming. We scattered as Dale screamed. All three of us flying like quail as we tried to put as much distance between ourselves and the killer as possible. I had my phone out as I left the theatre, darling the number for emergency services as I went. I vaulted the concession counter and hid behind it as the line buzzed and buzzed. I sat there, shaking, the smell of old popcorn and aged soda in my nose as a wait for someone to pick up. 9-1-1, what is your emergency? I sighed, to hear someone outside of this place.

I told them I was at the Megaplex and that I needed the police there immediately. I told her how we had used Jeremy's key to get inside, how we were planning to set up a stream and play games in a creepy theatre, and how they had pulled a prank of me and started all of this. I told her about Kyle and Titus and about all my friends who were probably being murdered right now as we split up. And as I told her once again that I needed help, I felt the tears rolled up. her my face as I started to cry. She assured me that help was on the way,

but that I needed to stay in the line. That was when someone kicked the counter from the other side, and I practically threw my phone in surprise. I could hear the lady on the other end calling my name, seeing if I was there, but my phone had landed against the opposite counter, and my attention was dominated by the hulking figure standing over me. The bar came up to his waist,

The guy was nearly seven and a half feet tall and dressed in cast-off clothes and a long coat with the hood. He was holding the crowbar, his sightless face looking down at me. And when he smashed the crowbar against the glass, I felt drops of something splatter across my face. I wiped them off and saw red streaks on my finger, realizing that his crowbar was splattered with blood. For a moment, we just stared at each other, his featureless face glaring at me. I couldn't see him glaring, but I could feel it as he glared at me in disapproval. I had come into his den, his hunting ground, and now I was to be his prey. He turned, taking a step towards the opening that would let him behind the counter, and I weighed my escape options.

I could try to vault the counter, but it seemed likely that he would catch me before I got to the door. If I sat right there, I get killed in short order. But if I sprinted for the area beyond the concession stand, where the door was that we'd come in through, which seemed my best course of action. He would likely still catch me before I got there, but it was my only hope of escaping. The joy, however, was made for me.

He had just stepped into the space between the counter and the back, when the blue lights framed him up, and he looked at the big, glass doors at the front of the building. He broke and ran for the back of the Megaplex then, back towards the theatres, back towards whatever nest he had back there. The cops found me behind the counter a few minutes later. The search of the Megaplex turned up the rest of my friends, or what was left of them

at least. Each of them had been killed. They had been stabbed, bludgeoned, or just strangled with bare hands of that imposing shade. I was the only survivor it seemed, and the police were very interested in getting a statement. That's why I'm here in this interrogation room filling out this report. They even talked about criminal charges yet, and I think they figure I've suffered enough. What they want is my complete report on the happenings of this evening. You can be certain that I'll never forget the events of tonight's stream, the last stream of my career.