CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Someone left a charcoal X on my door. I've been marked" Creepypasta

Episode Date: October 14, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Saturdead: 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►Joshua Culp: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/d8...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-

From world-wide top-merken to entrepreneurs that net begin, million-verteroferoferoferofero in your winkel, on Instagram, TikTok, and more. All of out one platform. Beheer your products, bestellings and betalings and betaling,

fairly and easy-fouted. Shopify grew with you with, every step of the way. Start today not your gratis-proof-periodo on Shopify.b. That is Shopify. combe.

I was at a bachelor party. All my friends had gathered, and we had this big night out. I'll be the first to admit, I had a few shots too many. Still, I'm a responsible driver, and I didn't live all that far away. So, I took the sobering walk back home. I used the shortcut by the lake, try my best not to step on any frogs on the way. Most buggers are everywhere. I was about halfway home when I noticed something further down the road.

Someone was coming my way, and they were dragging a large garbage back behind them. He stopped about 20 metres from another, and I got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, and he had this wild stare, like an animal. His eyes were so large, they were practically round. He had several deep cuts in his skin, as if sliced by a knife, but there was no blood coming out. He just stood there staring at me. Look the other way, he said. Just look away.

I don't know why I did as he asked. Maybe it was just me being stupid and drunk. Still, it feels like there was something more to it. I honestly didn't want to know what I was walking into. So I looked away, and I heard him shuffle past me with his garbage bag in tow. Good, he coughed. You did good. I didn't report it to the police.

I was barely conscious by the time I got home, and I wasn't sure if I had dreamt it all. I was too busy nursing my hangover to consider what it really happened. It wasn't until a few days later, when I started noticing the missing posters for Count's woman Leslie Bolin that I started getting suspicious. Still, I did nothing.

I had no part in this. I wasn't even sure what I'd seen. About a week later, They reported Leslie Bolin had been found. There weren't any details released to the public, except that there was suspicion of murder. I couldn't help shake the feeling that I'd seen something that night. I hadn't told anyone, not even my girlfriend. I laid awake at night, thinking about what to do.

Then, one morning, there was a mark on my door, a large X made with charcoal. I washed it off immediately, but the... the thing spooked me. I'm a very private person, and there was no way I could take this in any other way than as a threat. If it was supposed to intimidate me, they failed. Instead, I told my girlfriend about it, all of it, the man I'd seen, my suspicions, everything. She didn't seem too bothered. Maybe she thought I made it up to scare her, not that I have a history of doing so.

Even then, it's been hard getting her to focus on anything for the garden lately. But that's not here nor there. So I went to the police. I explained what I'd seen, where I'd seen it, and when. I tried to describe the man, the garbage bag, and his general expression. They didn't seem all too interested. I'd been blackout drunk. It had been over a week ago, and they'd already arranged the search in that area a few days prior.

I wasn't a reliable witness. Even if they believed me, they couldn't send out a dive team to Frog Lake on nothing but this testimony. They needed something more. I just washed my hands of the entire thing. I was done. I tried to help, but no one seemed to take me seriously.

For a while, I thought I was just being paranoid. Then I started getting dry eyes. I know. It doesn't sound very interesting. you'll get them from time to time. But I never had that before. The skin was red and irritated, and at times I could barely keep them open.

I tried creams and salts, but it was all just temporary pain relief. The problem persisted for days, and it started to affect my personal life. I no longer felt comfortable driving and see myself in the bathroom mirror was just uncomfortable. But there were other things.

I noticed the charcoal X marker around town, on the side of the water tower in alleyways, on the sign to the quarry next to the church mailbox. They were small, but all over. How hadn't I seen these before? Looking back at it, I'm pretty sure these spots were marked before. I started patrolling my house, looking for these marks. I didn't see any nearby, but I did see one by the neighbour's house. One of those fabricated houses from the 70s, right back. There on a tree with a swing, clear as day, another charcoal X.

I lived like that for a while, and I adapted as best as I could. I set up a doctor's appointment, nothing came of it, more creams and salts. As I was grocery shopping at the supermarket, I had some sort of seizure. It wasn't for long, but it was the most intense thing I'd ever felt, like a light show under my eyelids. I see these shades of orange and red, like sharp tan. of white. It would show up out of nowhere and my eyes forced themselves shut. The swelling made it hard to open them. One of the cashiers rushed over to help. I washed my face, forced them open and the lights were gone. But not entirely. Over the next few days, I could sense

those colours whenever I closed my eyes. I'd see them swirling and twisting, forming and dissolving into shapes seemingly at random. It was like watching clouds in the inside of your head. I could barely get any sleep. It was ever present. A second doctor's appointment later, and I was told most of my symptoms matched that of a powerful migraine. Now, next to my creams and solves,

I got some migraine medication. It didn't take me long to realize they didn't really do anything. I started taking the bus to and from work. Sure, I could have someone drive me, but I didn't want to be a bother. At first, it was hell. Forcing my eyes open made them go drier, even faster, but closing them gave me the swirling shapes of red, orange and white. There was no rest, no getting away.

You can't run from your own body. One time, as the bus came to a stop by a red light, I closed my eyes. Then, in the middle of those swirling colours, was a large exorning. shaped void. Darkness. It was set in a specific spot. Whenever I turned my head, it'd go away. I managed to pinpoint the spot in real life when I locked in a certain direction.

When I opened my eyes. I saw him. The same man who dragged that garbage bag that night. He was crossing the road by the red light. I'd never have noticed him if it wasn't for the X I saw as I closed my eyes. The X followed him. It marked him. For a moment, our eyes met.

And I think he saw something in me, too. He smiled. Later that day, as I was waiting for the boss back home, I noticed someone sitting down on a bench next to me. Even with my eyes closed, I could figure out who it was. X marks the spot. I looked up and got a better view of him. Mid-30s, early 40s, tall, skinny, muscular, short black hair, goatey, and the most intimidating

eyes I'd ever seen. There were these pale white orbs with just a spot of black. He held a pair of sunglasses in his hands, even though the sun had already set. The worst sunglasses in the dark. Rough day, he asked. Yeah, I nodded. It'll get better, he comforted. It always does.

I didn't answer. There was something odd about his voice, like he was talking to someone he knew, rather than a complete stranger. Just look ahead, he said. Look closely. He got out from the bench and started walking. I waved at him.

Aren't you taking the bus? I prefer a long walk. Step by step, he disappeared down the street. That night, as I sat in my bedroom, I closed my eyes. I shot them as hard as I could were straight at by the colours and the discomfort

and for a brief second I noticed something in front of me just this tiny black spot it was just like in the bus a dark void breath of colour I didn't realise I was looking straight ahead at a reflection in the bedroom mirror

again I closed my eyes and stepped forward the spot grew larger and came into focus there in the equivalent of where my forehead was reflected. It was a black X. I was marked.

I started having horrible nightmares. The colours in the back of my eyes started shaping into violent images. The red and orange turned into blood, skin and innards. The tangs of sharp white turned into bone. Closing my eyes was like looking up from under a pile of broken bodies.

It was disorienting, and it made me sick. The migraine pills did nothing. I found myself sleeping with my eyes open. In the morning, my eyes were so badly crusted I couldn't see without thoroughly washing them. Still, the creams and salves did nothing. My girlfriend was getting worried, not only because of my eyes, but because she said something had changed with me. I wasn't listening, nor paying any attention.

I was constantly distracted and I wasn't talking as much. I didn't even notice it myself, but she was right. Usually that had bothered me greatly. I consider myself an active listener, but lately, I just didn't care. Maybe I changed more than I realized. Things were getting worse. Every time I closed my eyes,

a new horror would morph into view. Hellish landscapes, laughing skulls, a sky full of eyes, all in shades of orange, red and yellow. A nightmare with every other. blink of an eye. I tried to force myself just to not blink, but the swelling made in impossible. Sometimes the visions would be so bad I audibly gasped or screamed. I was sent home from work on sick leave.

At best I was a distraction. At worst, I was scaring the other workers. I locked myself in the bathroom that night and turn off the lights. It was easier to keep my eyes open in the dark. There, as I blinked, I noticed a reflected in the back. I noticed the reflective X in the mirror was larger. My mark was larger. I stepped up close, thinking about what the man from the bus stop had said.

Mark closer, I muttered. I pressed my face against the bathroom mirror. The X covered my entire field of view. And finally, close my eyes just gave me darkness. No colors. It was all just darkness. The relief was so enormous that I cried. Then.

A hand. Something reached out of the mirror, stroking my hair, a rumbling voice as if whispered from underwater. Hello. I started closing my eyes more. I started making sense of things. In the landscapes of horrors, I noticed patterns corresponding to my surroundings. What looked like a school could be my bed, morphing as I moved back and forth, an enormous disembowed tongue could be where my hallway carpet was.

It was like seeing the world shaped through a constant morphing, etcher sketch from hell, like staring at a moving painting, colors never settling. I found myself walking around for hours, eyes closed. I could navigate my space better and better. All I had to do was look closer. I could even type on my phone and keyboard. I could cook, I could take walks, and, step by step, hour by hour, the horrors that had first shocked me started to seem normal.

This was just the way the world looked now. I can't say my girlfriend was pleased. She was so bothered by all of this. We had this huge fight and I couldn't care less about her emotions. It all just seemed so superficial. How can you honestly say, what about me, to someone who might be losing their eyesight? That, if anything, you short something. When she demanded a break, I didn't fight back.

I normalized my world with a hellish vision. It was all just a different way of seeing things. I tried watching the world with my eyes open, but they were just too dry. I couldn't be bothered. It all seemed so bland in comparison. If I'm really honest, I miss seeing the orange and red when I opened my eyes. So, I've just kept them closed. It wasn't too long when I noticed.

several dark spots outside my house. At least 12. Moving with my eyes closed, I stepped out, surrounded by landscapes of orange and red. I opened the front door. There are at least 12 X's tall and dark. I'm not a small person,

but these are all taller than me. Looking up, I noticed at least four or five of them circling overhead. Not flying or flapping any wings, just... hanging there, suspended, symbols. You are looking closer, said a familiar voice with a cough.

You did good. Please tell me, what's happening? I told everyone about you, the voice continued. They were eager to reward you. This is a reward? Can't grow new muscles without some tension and pain, the voice chuckled. all this discomfort will pass then what

then we can move forward and see things together enough of this I was annoyed I hated this unclear puzzling crap I wanted answers

and I wanted them now I stepped up to the X in front of me and forced my eyes open with my fingers I need to realise they were already open. Orange sands, blood red skies, bone-white mountains, rivers of fire. In front of me, nothing but a dark X, suspended in mid-air.

I tried to blink it away, closing and opening my eyes. But nothing helped. This was real. This was happening. My mind snapped as I fell to the ground. You won't regret it, the voice said. I promise. I crawled backwards.

I could feel the gravel for my driveway under my fingers, and within seconds I could feel my front door behind me. I couldn't take my eyes off the floating figures. Don't leave, it said. Please, don't leave. I looked to the sides. Corpses floating down a river of fire, worm-shaped tunnels boring into the side of ribcage mountain sides,

countless egg-shaped spots, all waiting to speak to me. They were floating over, head drifting from beneath. I could feel them, far off, closing in. No, I stammered. I, I can't. Please, it pleaded, please. I crawled backwards. I felt the front door open behind me. Then I was back. I kept my eyes open. With every blink, I was back in that hellscape. But now I heard them. They were screaming at me. coming for me. With every blink of an eye, I could feel them closing in.

I was being torn between two places at once, and that other place. They didn't want to leave any witnesses behind. I was seconds away from being picked apart, tossed down the river of flame. My dry eyes screamed to me to blink, to close my eyes, to surrender. I counted the seconds. I stumbled into my home office, feeling them closing in. I found my solution from one of the drawers. I stapled my eyelids open. Since then, I haven't blinked. I sleep with my eyes open.

I know what waits for me. Just a few blinks away. I can't live like this for long. I can't protect my eyes with goggles. And I go through at least a bottle of eyedrops a day. I've cleaned my wounds to make sure they don't get infected. And now they've healed up. I couldn't close my eyes if I wanted to.

I don't know who these people were or what they want from me. I don't know if it's too late to accept their offer or what that would entail. I guess they want to tell me as little as possible to test my faith. I don't know. Sometimes I lean against the mirror, hoping that hand will comfort me again. I'm so tired of my dry eyes.