CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Something is Skeletonizing the Animals" Creepypasta

Episode Date: March 23, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Hisham H: 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/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-

In retrospect, we all should have known something as up when Professor Burton bought the Douglas farm. Douglas was a farmer in name only, somehow managing to scrape a living together off a few cows, scattered chickens and the occasional cabbage. In the end, he was sick of keeping up the pretense, sold off everything and settled into the comfortable position of town drunk. Not much was known about Professor Burton, thin, bold, with thick spectacles. He looked every part the college professor. He was apparently a professor of botany and no one knew why anyone would buy the Douglas farm. Well, Burton certainly had plans for the place.

Now, the only thing of note on that rundown farm is the perfectly serviceable barn. And every day we saw trucks drive up and unload their cargo, white fixtures, hoses and cables, especially cables. Burton also had a company built some sort of a addition to the barn, some sort of upper deck or office that could be reached

by stairs. Burton kept mostly to himself. Some thought he was strange, but most, myself included, considered him a harmless sort. That all changed three months after he bought the farm. Now, I'm a veterinarian

and I once had pretty good business in this town, with all the farmers and their animals. But the farming business isn't what it used to be, and soon most of the local farmers shifted to producing fruit and vegetables for the surrounding markets. Locally grown and well-priced produce is all the rage these days, especially old heirloom varieties.

But some still kept a few animals around, like a couple of chickens for eggs, a cow for milk, or a well-loved horse. But business was bad. So, as one of the few locals with any scientific background, I soon took up a part-time job as a CSI. Not that there was much to do, but it's at least a regular salary. There is next no crime here.

The only things the police are ever called for are fights and the occasional hbscunding goat. So it was quite unusual for me to be logging a CSI kit at 4 in the morning in some field. A dead cow. With my credentials, I guess I was ideal for the job. But I never would have thought things would have turned out the way they did.

Yes, it all started that morning with Riley's dead cow. Officer Harrison was there So was Riley, the cow's owner Riley wasn't really a farmer Instead, he kept what he called Emergency cows Livestock that could be sold whenever there was a sudden need for money

As I approached I realised there wasn't much of a carcass left It was just a skeleton Barely held together with ligaments The bones were stained but picked clean And the ground beneath and around the remains was blanketed with cow hair. Well, the scavengers worked fast.

Officer Harrison spoke up. Not that fast. Riley grunted. Cow was alive last night. I was opening my kit when I heard that. I looked up at Riley's somber face. This cow was alive last night? Riley saw the questioning look in my eyes.

I'm not crazy. Last night she was in this field, chomping grass. Today, she's that. This is unheard of. Even with scavengers and insect activity, it would have taken weeks for the cow to be reduced to this state. Officer Harrison spoke. Riley says he didn't hear anything last night.

No wolves howling, no cow screaming, or anything like that. He turned to me. Any ideas what could have done this? I shook my head. There was no animal, no phenomenon I could think of that can skeletonize a cow in my head. one night. I've always laughed at those UFO fanatics

and the stories of cattle mutilation. Riley trailed off. He looked up at the sky. Now, now, now, there must be a rational explanation. I said lightly as I started the bag at the bones. I needed more bags.

I'll take this to the lab. Take a closer look. I'm sure I find something. Riley just shook his head. Better sell my other cow. My investigation. proved to be very unsatisfying. No tooth marks or any marks that might indicate a weapon.

Not a scrap of flesh left, but the bones were still stained. No scorch marks, no acid damage. Even the brain was missing, but the skull was intact. How? Even if some particularly ravenous pack of animals somehow killed this cow without alerting Riley and then consumed every bit of meat while leaving the bones unmarred, how would they have gotten at the brain?

I admit I was a bit unsettled, but also excited. This was a mystery, a puzzle. The community buzzed with the story of Rylis cow. Some thought it was UFOs. Others thought that this was the advent of some terrifying new flesh-eating disease. I admit I was a bit uneasy when I heard that rumor. Some even thought it was the work of humans. Perhaps some starving, desperate people came across that cow

and simply ate every scrap of it. There and then, but the majority thought it was just a very hungry pack of wolves. Didn't explain why the brain was missing, or why Riley didn't hear anything. It's ironic that over the next few weeks, it didn't ring any alarm bells when an increasing number of my clients were reporting missing cats and dogs. Not even when the farmers are happy that the go-for problems seemed to have died out, nor when we saw Professor Burton hired at work digging some kind of trench around the barn. so it was quite an unpleasant surprise when the same thing happened again.

This time it was a pet goat named Nancy, living in a fenced enclosure in a backyard. It was the same story. Nancy had been perfectly fine last night, but come the morning, Heroners are horrified to find that she was a skeleton and a pile of hair. No signs of a struggle. The fence was unbroken and erroneous had heard nothing. Her bones told me nothing new. again her brain was missing

A few days later It was a parrot Still in his cage But there was something different this time Although the skull Sternham and hips remained inside the cage The bones that could fit through the bars were missing And there were some feathers beneath the cage

It was the parrot that finally led me to connect The pet disappearances with the skeletonisations I was pretty sure whatever did this was also feeding on the local cat and dog population, but wasn't only mammals and birds. Now that I finally paid attention, the insect population had plummeted as well. No more cockroaches in the kitchens or bathrooms,

no wasps around swarming over overripe fruit, no flies buzzing around rotten trash. I am sad to report that Officer Harrison took a complete disinterest in all of this. He pointedly ignored everything I laid before him and told me that he had other things to worry about. Yeah, right. Our community was completely baffled by these events. Rumors spread around like wildfire.

Stories of tubercarbredes floated about. People started keeping their animals inside their houses, or otherwise, in locked coops and huts. That seemed to help a bit, although a coop of chickens was found skeletonized one morning. People started standing vigil over their remaining livestock. One day, someone had brought in a rabbit he had hit with his car. Despite my efforts, it soon died, but as I went to dispose of its carcass, an idea occurred to me. I decided I was going to get to the bottom of the mystery. That night, I put the rabbit out of my backyard, just within the edge of the house lights, and I waited.

I waited for what seemed like ours. I expected a shadowy figure to pop up any minute now. Imagine my surprise when the rabbit started to disappear. At first I didn't realize what was happening. It seemed like the rabbit was slowly sinking into the ground. I grabbed a flashlight and went out for a closer look. When I came close enough, I realized the rabbit was covered by some sort of dark coat, a seething, moving coat.

Ants Thousands of black ants crawling all over the rabbit. It occurred to me that I hadn't. seen a single ant for the past few weeks, even though they used to be everywhere. And, as I watched, they formed a blanket beneath a rabbit and started to drag it away. I decided to follow. You might think it foolish of me, but at the time I did not feel to be in danger. I was already familiar with how ants loved meat.

I've seen plenty of dead chicks covered with ants. It did occur to me that the ants may be partly responsible for. at the very least the clean bones and is not that I was seeing anything alarming I was watching ants drag away a food item except it was a rabbit instead of a grasshopper as I followed I saw other streams of ants join the group carrying the precious meat and the pace started to pick up

almost three hours later I realised I was heading for Burton's property as I approached I considered waking him up to ask for permission but decided against it. He was a man of science, and he would understand. Plus, I did not relish waking up a man just to ask if I could follow some man to cross his land. They marched right across the field towards the barn.

Then we came across the trench that Burton had been digging around his barn. Except it was now a moat. It was filled with murky water. As the mass approached, I saw them gathering at the edge of the water, milling around. Then they split forward, floating in the water. I knew some ants were capable of this rafting behaviour, but what surprised me was what happened next. Another column approached from the opposing bank.

They too started rafting, and the two columns joined up in the middle of the moat, forming a bridge. More and more ants arrived, until the bridge grew big and sturdy enough for the rabbit. They carried it across while I jumped over the moat. They were heading towards the boat. barn. And as I approached, I noticed there were gaps at the bottom of the barn doors and walls, gaps large enough for a cattle dog to squeeze through, gaps that showed that there were some pretty

strong lighting in there. As the rabbit disappeared into the barn, I hesitated. Walking across a field was one thing, but entering the barn was trespassing, plain and simple. As I walked around the barn, considering my options, I came across stairs, stairs that left. up to the room that Burton had added to the barn, and I could see the lights were on. Good, I thought. The guy is awake. I'll go up there and we'll talk about this. I ascended the stairs and knocked on the door. It was open. The room was devoid of human presence, but it was certainly not empty. It was full of monitors and cables. It looked like his valence room. One side of the room was completely glass.

overlooking the floor of the barn, and I was amazed by what I saw. Hoses draped the walls, expelling jeeps of mist. Light fixtures dangled from the ceiling on long cables, illuminating the things sprawled below. In the centre, a massive stalk, woody and gnarled, emerged from the mound. It snaked outward in a spiral. Along its length sprung long, broad, shiny leaves at regular intervals. Each leaf had a thick mid-rib that extended into the same. a tendril, and each tendril ended in a picture.

Each picture was a massive, globular, barrel-shaped jug, banded and striped with cream, yellow, orange, red, purple, caramel and chocolate brown, like it was carved from my gate, with two rows of webbed orange-tipped tentacles running down the front, and a bright, almost fluorescent orange lip. Each had a leafy, umbrella-like cover or cap, and beneath that jotted a pair of what looked like bright fuchsia fangs, terrifyingly similar to the dentition of a particularly exotic viper. I was looking at a giant, no, giganguine picture plant, a picture plant that was practically a mini jungle in itself. The monitors all showed the extreme close-ups to the plant. There must

have been dozens of cameras hidden in the foliage. Some of the cameras were aimed at individual traps. The controls were simple and intuitive. I could zoom in on anything I wanted, so I took a closer look at the ants. They crawled all over the plant, but were mostly concentrated on the traps, thick, writhing rivers and ribbons of black and red bodies. Normally, ants of two colonies would fight, but here I saw different species all intermingling peacefully, as if some bizarre peace treaty had been signed.

Small black ants, medium-sized brown ants, might look like fire ants, ants of all sizes and colors and ants of shapes and varieties I've never seen before the floor seethed with what seemed like trillions of tiny bodies there were slender long-legged ants and bullet-shaped stout ants

there were ants ornamented with spines and even hair they were ants with jaws open at 180 degree angle to each other there were ants with enormous heads and massive jaws and they were really weird ants ants that are bizarre protrusions

storks and tubicles on their head and or abdomens. One looked like it had a periscope, with his eyes perched on the tip of a tall protuberance. I noticed that there were always one or two holes, scarred and woody, in every snaking tendril connected to one of the traps, and the ants entered and exited with them freely. I watched as the rabbit carcass was dragged into the barn on a bed of chitinous bodies. They swarmed over it and the body seemed to melt.

Skin and fur were sheared away, Muscle and fat seemingly dissolved under the combined effort of a billion tiny jaws. White bones started to peak through the seething mass, as well as the glistening sheen of viscera. But then there was a lull in the frenetic activity. I saw various lumps being separated from the carcass. The biggest one looked like a liver before it was smothered into a different kind of ant, shiny and brown, almost coppery. They swarmed all over the lumps, ignoring the main carcass,

which was feasted on by the other ants. As the lump shrank, the brown ant started the stream towards one of the traps. The ants already on the trap cleared a path for the gleaming brown stream. It snaked all the way up to the lip of the trap. I zoomed in on the trap. I watched in amazement as I saw each ant carried a lump of pulpy flesh in its jaws, and as it approached the edge of the lip, it would drop its cargo below into the clear pool of amber liquid.

The amber liquid seemed to have bugs in it as well. Little brown larvae things that were actively wriggling and swimming. But I couldn't make them out clearly. But one thing was clear. The ants were feeding the pitcher plant. I knew picture plants were carnivorous, and a few were big enough to trap the occasional rat. But I was sure nothing on this scale was ever known to science. This thing was using ants to eat larger prey.

I zoomed back in on the rabbit. already the bones showed underneath the seething mass and I watched as the bones and a bit of fur were ferried into a distant corner of the barn I zoomed in as close as I could Bones Small and medium-sized bones piled hapasily I recognized dog skulls and cat skulls

clumps and tufts of hair and fur I checked the other corners Sure enough each had a pile of bones and fur The ants' refuse heaps I began to understand Smaller carcasses would be brought here to be processed when larger animals were processed

on location But it didn't explain how the ants managed to overpower and kill Such large, powerful animals Not to mention doing so silently The parrot was trapped in a cage, true But the owners heard nothing And I knew very well how loud a parrot could be

My thoughts were interrupted As the door swung open Professor Burton stood in the doorway, holding a mug and a pot of coffee. We stared at each other. Burton spoke first. I can explain. I jumped up, suddenly furious. You better explain this.

He nearly dropped the coffee pot. No, no. What I meant to say was, what are you doing here? I arrested him, pinning him to the door. Didn't he realise what he had done? I was rewarded with the unpleasant sensation of hot coffee running down my leg. No, we're past that. Explain this.

I waved my hand vaguely at the monitors. He spoke in a shaky voice. On my last trip to Borneo, I found this little patch of rainforest in a deforested valley. The logging company gave me permission to explore before moving in. They said I had a week, so for a while I wandered around in there. In the process, losing my camera and glasses, I come across. this fantastic nepotthus. It was huge, draped from several trees like a huge liana. I collected some samples. Then, like an idiot, I didn't tell the log is what I discovered. When I came back

the next day, the entire patch had been raised. Those hassles worked overtime to make sure they could finish the job. They knew if news of this discovery spread, they'll never be allowed to cut down that forest. His voice shook with emotion, but he went on. But I showed them. I still had samples I had taken away the day before, and with any luck I would be able to propagate it. And I did, which... You idiot. So you come down here to cultivate a monster plant? Why here?

Why not in some lab somewhere? He coughed. Professor Lewis, the head of the botany department, is a very unpleasant man, well known to staff for appropriating the work of others. So I was determined to... I cut him off. You really don't understand what you've nearly done. You knew you were losing.

in control. That's why you dug that moat, but it looks like they outsmarted you. I shook my head in disgust. It's sheer look that nobody was hurt. Ah, he eagerly cried, but they do not harm humans. Nonsense. Why wall yourself up in this room instead of walking in your garden? But I do. I go in there to check the equipment, drop off prey items, things like that. I built this room so I could better observe what was going on, take in the whole picture, so to speak. I can't watch the plan. around the clock, so I set up the cameras to monitor everything. It's all saved to multiple redundant hard drives for later analysis, so...

Wait, you're saying you've been in there, and yet you made it out alive? It wasn't this big in the beginning. It was just a small cutting at first. I've been growing it in my house for several months, before I decided I needed more space. All that time, I was never attacked by the colony, so... Wait, you brought the hands from Borneo too? Yes, I already told you I managed to take several samples. I managed to collect part of the brood which contain a queen.

But what's really fascinating is that it managed to recruit local and species, possibly through some sort of pheromone, and even all to the morphology, possibly by secreting hormone analogs which affect larva development and pupa maturation. The original symbiotic species is the only one that feeds the nimpathus directly. All other species are used for prey capture and defence which... Look, this is fascinating at all, and I admit is one heck of a discovery. But you're really in over your head right now. Your little moat did nothing to stop them.

And now they're depleting the entire area of fauna. You've got an ecological catastrophe just waiting to happen. I relax my hold on him. Look, I'm sorry about losing my temper, but you've messed up bad. And you need help. I suggest taking a cutting and starting somewhere else in a more secure and controlled environment. What? Start over from scratch. But you already have what, like terabytes of viz.

I'd say you've collected enough data to make a formal description. Just take a cutting or maybe one of the traps in a truck. That should be enough to stake your claim. I don't think Professor Lewis will be able to hijack this one. I suppose you're right, he said with some reluctance. And what do you suggest I do about? Spray the place with herbicide, I said flatly. I'll just chop up the thing and send it to a university or something.

Look, the plant's influence and the local ant population is too dangerous to... I paused. I remembered something. Hold on a minute. How do the ants kill the animals without raising a ruckus? Ah, he smiled nervously. The ants are not only symbiots. In my samples, I also collected a new species of mosquitoes that breeds in the fluid of the peaches.

The larvae take a portion of the plant's food. On such a rich diet, they build of enough reserves to last their entire adult life. The adults do not feed at all. And as soon as they emerge, they will mate and lay eggs. Sometimes in the picture they hatched from, but the females still have well-developed mouthparts and can still bite, although they can't suck blood. The salivary glands are enlarged and secret a potent and very fast-acting.

Burton was interrupted again, but this time wasn't me. It was the whining, humming cloud, that blew through the open doorway. The mosquitoes covered us like grey fur. I couldn't feel the bite. but it did start getting drowsy. I flailed about trying to swat them, or at least brush them off, but they were relentless.

My movement slowed, my vision blurred, then I blacked out. When I woke up, I found myself in a hospital bed, covered all over with mosquito bites, which thankfully didn't itch. They told me nobody realized

I was missing for three days. It was only when Harrison needed my report to complete his own paperwork, that he bothered to check if I had shown up for work, and Burton only went to town for groceries once a week. So it was a couple of days until we were found, unconscious in the room. So, all in all, we had been knocked out for five days. Even then, we were only discovered because someone reported that the doors

to Burton's barn had been left open for two days. Burton visited me in the hospital later that day. He regained consciousness the day before and told me what Harrison had told him. The plant was gone. The stalk had been sawn through, leaving only a stump. Everything else was left behind. They left the lights, the cameras, everything was untouched, he said bitterly.

They were after one thing only. The plant. I have lost everything. But you still have the videos, your own notes. I store them all on the hard drives And every single one of them is corrupted Ruined I went to a guy who specialises in data recovery

He said it's pretty much hopeless I was looking at a broken man Right now the police think is a straightforward case of assault and robbery The official story is somebody drugged the two of us Then made off with the plant I stared Is that what you told them It's what they chose to

to believe. I merely did nothing to correct that assumption. How did you explain all the bones and fur? He snorted. I told them I had no idea how they got there and that the thieves must have dumped them there. Is this guy for real? And what if I tell them what really happened?

You think they'll believe your story of sedative mosquitoes and a giant pet-eating plant? They'll blow it off as a particularly vivid hallucination induced by the knockout drug or whatever. Besides, it'll be your word against mine. He sighed, though, to be honest, I don't care either way. I poured every penny I had into this.

It was a dream come true, a fantasy come to life. I rescued it from a patch of rainforest that was going to be cut down. I spared no expense. Now, it's gone, and I have nothing left. Seriously, you sold your house and everything? Well, I still have my house. and a shed packed full of old fish tanks. There's not much left to add.

The perpetrators were never caught, and the wildlife slowly replenished itself. Everything was back to normal. Well, I still have my house, and a shed packed full of old fish tanks. There's not much left to add. The perpetrators were never caught, and the wildlife slowly replenished itself.

Everything was back to normal, and I didn't feel like pressing the matter, especially since Burton had sold off the problem. property and paid off everybody who had lost an animal. Everybody thought it was peculiar, but mighty kind and neighbourly of him. I personally thought killing a beloved pet deserved harsher reparations. Burton's gone now, but I'm still uneasy. I remember how Burton at home with a colony never attacked him, back when he was taking care of the plant.

But the mosquitoes attacked us after I told him to spray the place and destroy the plant. And the ants never touched us. We could have easily ended up as plant food. But we didn't. I think the plant is aware. Aware that killing its caretaker was a bad idea. Aware that his caretaker had become a liability after talking to me. Aware that our deaths would have caused the police to look more closely into the robbery.

Aware that Burton had stored all his data on the hard drives and so destroyed them to keep its existence a secret. I think it wasn't stolen. I think that maybe thousands of tiny jaws were ordered to chew to the stalk, and now millions of bodies are carrying it somewhere else to be planted and take root. I think... It escaped.