CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Something else sees through my eyes" Creepypasta

Episode Date: November 24, 2023

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Verastahl: / something_else_sees_through_my_eyes AUTHOR'S BOOKS► https://www.amazon.com/stores/Brandon...SITE► https://verastahl.com/SUBREDDIT► / verastahl 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"- • "I wasn't careful enough on the deep ... ►"Personal Favourites"- • "I sold my soul for a used dishwasher... ►"Written by me"- • "I've been Blind my Whole Life" Creep... ►"Long Stories"- • Long Stories FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: / creeps_mcpasta ►Instagram: / creepsmcpasta ►Twitch: / creepsmcpasta ►Facebook: / creepsmcpasta CREEPYPASTA 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 festival season is Aangbroken, and that betekent mudder. And so, ging Kim to come to comest-com. On the look at a water-dict tent, a comfortable luget,

oh, so, knus, and Lupeart print regalarze. Miao! Now, now he'll keep Kim not so much the dancing, the moddermann

there, oh, wait just even, has he now only modder on? Oh, yeah, only modder. DROG blithe? Goar for.

Find what you need you need to be on Amazon.com. I met Will when we were both sophomores in college. We went from being fast friends to best friends to dating over the next year. And by the time we graduated, we'd already decided we were getting married and moving to the Midwest. And for a few years, we were so happy. Not that we ever struggled.

But when I got terribly sick for a few weeks, he took care of me. When he lost his job, I kept his spirits up until he found a new one. Overall, it felt like we were incredibly lucky, and I was going through life with a person I knew and loved the most in the world. It was three years ago when things started to change. I blame some of it on the miscarriage. We decided it was time to try for kids, and we were both excited when I got pregnant. but just a couple of months later I was getting sick again like before

the doctors had never pinned down the exact cause of my illness and while this time it lasted less than a week it was during that time I lost the baby you were both hurt by it but I think Will took it harder he seemed haunted after that more anxious and prone to strange compulsion like throwing out perfectly good food and drinks from time to time

and checking my car before I took any long trip. It was as though he was terrified I was going to get sick again or somehow have an accident. It was sweet and away, but also bizarre. And any time I talked about us trying to have a baby again, he just looked stricken and changed the subject. After some time, I decided to let it go, thinking that eventually things would get better instead. I found his suicide note.

I call it that, because even though it is long and styled like a journal entry, the tone and purpose of it is pretty clear. It's a confession. Or maybe more of a concession. a surrender to some terrible inevitability that Will seems to think has been crawling toward him for most of his life a life that he clearly means to end but when I started reading this spiral-bound notebook

that had fallen out from between two dusty boxes in our rarely used attic I didn't realize all of that yet because as with most endings Will's story began far away way. It read. Something else sees through my eyes. I know how that sounds. Crazy. Which is why I never told anyone this. Not even you. Writing this now. Will you ever find it or read it? I don't know. I may destroy it before I'm even done. Is it worth you understanding a bit more if you don't

believe? Were you believing me if it doesn't stop you from hating me? I don't have answers to any of that, and I've spent years trying to find a way to understand. I feel like a toad in a dried-up pond, just cooking in the noon sun and not really understanding why any of it's happening. I know things used to be good, and I know I'm burning up, drying out, becoming less of myself, and so, so tired of being afraid all the time. But I'm not doing a good job of explaining this, which is supposed to be the point. So I'll start over. When I was seven years old, something stung me.

I'd been playing out with friends in the woods near my house when it happened. and it hurts so bad that it dropped me to my knees. I never saw what it was or where it went, but by the time my friends got me back to the house, there was a knot on the back of my neck the size of an egg. I spent two days in the hospital, but when I got out, I felt better. No side effects, no scar or ongoing pain.

Just an epipen in case I ever got stung again, and a strict rule for my parents to never go in the woods again. In fact, over the next year, I mostly forgot about the incident. Until one night, I woke up to realize I wasn't in bed. I was standing by my open bedroom window, looking out into the night. And I could feel something moving in my head, seeing through my eyes. like I said before it's a crazy idea

easy for me to dismiss as my imagination or me having a nightmare and it wasn't like I started having lots of odd behaviour or blackouts I didn't so far as I could tell have any outward signs of anything touching me

or invading me at all unless you wanted to count that one bout of light sleepwalking yet despite that the feeling that something was there didn't go away by the time I was 10 I talked to myself regularly having become so used to the idea that I treated it like a secret friend be it God a guardian angel or a wood fairy that only I could sense I need to stress that for the most part none of this was scary even though I knew it was

real. It was strangely comforting, both because it gave me someone to share things with, because it made me feel special, chosen. But it's important that you know that I wasn't afraid of it, because if I had been, I would never let myself get close to you. You, or our baby, when I met you. Well, I felt like my whole world changed. I think I knew I loved you from that first night at the party, and that feeling has only gotten stronger ever since. The idea of having a life with you, starting a family, well, if there's something better than that, I don't know what it would be.

And yes, I thought about telling you about my companion a hundred times over the years, but even when I knew you wouldn't leave me, I was afraid you'd think I was crazy. that you'd see me differently somehow, as lesser than I'd been before, and the idea of that terrified me. So, I kept quiet and just counted my blessings that I had two wonderful friends in my life. When you got sick the first time, I've never been so scared. All the tests, the trips to the specialists, and then having to spend three weeks in the hospital before you got well.

I really thought I might lose you. I didn't understand what was going on at the time, of course. And so, when you finally come home, I was out of my mind happy. It wasn't until you got sick again when we lost the baby. That I realized, I was to blame. I woke up one night. This was after you were already starting to vomit and run a fever. but before we carried you to the hospital.

I woke up one night to find myself standing in the kitchen next to the open refrigerator. I was pouring something, a thick, whitish line of slime from my palm into the mouth of the milk jug. I stopped, panicked and confused, looking around for some explanation of what I was doing and where the foul-smelling stuff coating my hand had come from. That's when I noticed the bitter taste in the back of my throat, chest too tight to breathe. I reached into my mouth to the point of gagging, finger trembling as it touched the small, hard point in the back of my throat. I ran to the sink then and vomited out more of the white fluid before making my way to the bathroom mirror. Something was moving back there in the shadows of my interior.

Shining a light against the mirror, I focused the beam into a small point of black bone, jotting out of the grayish pink flesh around it, like a tiny fang or small stinger, oozing more of that milky corruption with each twitching shudder. It was then that I knew I had to die. I didn't do it right away, of course. Even when we lost the baby later in the week, I made excuses. I was terrified of the consequences of ending it, and there were days where I'd convinced myself the whole thing was in my head. I'd feel nothing behind my eyes and see nothing when I looked inside.

I'd tell myself I was crazy and needed help, or I was weak and needed to get over my strange nightmares and delusions. Anything to stay alive and be with you. But the signs would always return. I know it seems strange to you, but I've taken to garden your food, putting in a dozen ways for me to check for tampering with something you might eat or drink when I'm not in control. I know I've kept you from getting sick at times, but it won't last forever. Whatever this thing is, I know it's smarter and stronger than me. And more and more, I can tell it's taking control. So I have to stop it by ending me now before it's too late.

I will go out into the woods tomorrow and end it before I hurt you worse than I already have. I will always love you. And if you ever read this, please know that I never stop trying to find a better way. But it's crawling up the front of my mind and I can't let it touch you. So Goodbye May 14th 2023

Will I stuffed the journal under a pillow As I hear footsteps coming down the hall Wiping my eyes I look up To see Will Standing there staring at me

What are you doing His voice is cool and detached Like it has been A lot of the time in the last few weeks. I'd taken it as a sign of things may be getting better, that he was being more cold and aloof as part of getting his anxiety and depression under control,

and that when he came out to the other side, he'd be his old self again. Now I felt a chill as he watched me watch him. Um, nothing, just reading stuff. His expression didn't change. What stuff? You look like you've been crying. I shrugged and forced to laugh.

Just stuff on your phone. You know, girl stuff. It's happy stuff to make you cry. I'm okay. Not the note that Will wrote over a month ago, right before he started acting like... Like you. He nodded and made a sound deep in his throat.

Good. Well, come on then. It's dinner time. I've made you something special. I gave him a smile. Sounds great. I'll be there. Just need to get something first.