CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Something lives in the storm" Creepypasta

Episode Date: June 20, 2024

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Saturdead:   / something_lives_in_the_storm  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

I've been trying to tell the truth for so long that a lie's become more convenient. There's been countless emails and phone calls, but there's no one to listen. I can't blame them. It sounds insane. If what I told them was even partly true, it had changed the way they looked at the world forever. It started with little lies. I stopped saying I saw something. But even then, it was considered in bad taste to even talk about.

They still thought I was lying or spicing up the truth to hide something even more sinister. And honestly, I've grown tired. I'm so tired of trying to be believed. So, for one final time, I'm going to tell the truth. and then just never talk about it again. This has to stop. I never like the term storm chaser. It sounds too much like a fun hobby.

While it is a term commonly used, it's not just about being a thrill seeker. We provide real and tangible services. The NWS relies on real-time updates about barometric pressure, wind direction, rainfall and rate, surface conditions, wind speed and direction, and a dozen other data points. This is information taken into account when providing early onset warnings and to alert emergency

services in affected areas. I worked with two other guys back then. We rode in separate vehicles, the two of them up front, with me following in a backup. There was Javert, the gearhead. He made sure our cell phones were. worked even in nasty weather through various cell phone boosters, as well as keeping us updated on satellite, radar, and mesoscale analysis. It was also in charge of the radio, making sure we were up to date on any info coming in from

police, the fire department, emergency services, citizen band, or military frequencies, mostly Air Force, but we could get Marine as well. Second guy was Reed. This meatball-shaped man was a veteran in every sense of the word. He came back from Afghanistan and went, Oh well, let's check out tornadoes. So he did. He educated himself and got a job as a forensic meteorologist.

Yeah, that's a thing. Years later, he started his own business. One, which I was employed at. We were on a day to gather job for a storm about six clicks north of a small Minnesota town, not far from Rochester. Early predictions had put the storm as passing east of Madison, but there had been a sudden western shift. They needed boots on the ground for new measurements, and it was looking to be a nasty surprise. There had been no weather warnings going out as far as St. Cloud, and this thing was puffing up into a monster.

We onroaded a quick damage survey as we passed Stewartville. It didn't look like much, a couple of bent saplings along the tree line, but we were at the edge of it. This was just early indicators. We could tell surface conditions were going to go straight to hell.

I was hearing Reed react to it in real time over the radio. Sky's going to hail crap, he laughed. Mark, my God! damn words. Ain't no way, Javier said. Ain't that kind of pressure.

Boss says it's gonna hail, it's gonna hail, I added. Glad I've got at least one agreeable man on my side. What to call him, Rays Jaser, Javier scoffed. I'm telling you, it's not happening. We were breaking the speed limit, but driving in rough conditions kind of comes with the job. Our vehicles go through regular checkups to make sure they can take some punishment. Last thing you want is to get stranded in front of a twister. It's a measure

twice, cut once kind of deal. We made our way through Rochester, heading northeast by way of Kellogg. It was a decent chance we'd have to cross the Mississippi. First arm of the storm was about to pass Maxville. Chavere couldn't help but to laugh. It's a quick turn, quick, quick turn. I could almost hear him shaking his head. Hail storms don't move like that, he added. You're full of it, Reed laughed. You'll see. The roads were looking clear as we rolled up on the Wabisher Nelson Bridge. The sun was setting, casting a stark contrast between the dark clouds and the red sky.

We slowed down to get a better view. I wasn't sure what I was looking at. "'That's what hail looks like,' said Reed. "'No, that—it's clustered, right?' Javier sighed. "'Did the Rockies do it?' "'Ain't no way,' I scoffed at the radio, "'unless the Rockies are somehow out in New England.' "'Girls, girls!' Reed laughed. "'You're both pretty. It's fine.'

There was a rest stop just across the bridge. We turned in to check the weather stations into a preliminary reading. Javert double-checked the power supply. We were running a ton of devices, and you don't want any of them breaking in the heat of things. He was reading a checklist out loud as Reid and I took a sidebar,

getting a closer look at the storm. You really think it's hail? I asked. Could just be a nasty downpour? Nah, it's hail, you nodded. You get a feel for it. You can smell it. Smell it?

Yeah, smell it. Smells like nonsense, more like. It's what's happening. He pointed south, predicting a sharp movement to the west. Powerful winds, enough to rip away more than just a couple saplings across the road. We were locking at potentially serious property damage. Checking the weather station confirmed it. Wind direction was shifting fast,

and picking up speed. We kept going north, heading to Wisconsin, then southeast of the 35. We got a better view of the storm, and something just felt off. I had only worked with Reed for about 18 months, but it's like he said, you can kind of smell it,

and I did. We kept going another 10 to 20 minutes, stopped by the roadside, and updated our readings. As Javert updated the local NWS office, Reed stopped for a cigarette. The wind was picking up. Another nemometer was picking up speed,

spinning faster and faster. Reed was having trouble lighting his cigarette. That, if anything, seemed to worry him. Rain or shine, he could light a goddamn cigarette. It ain't looking good, he said. Not one bit. What are you thinking? I'm not sure yet, he sighed,

cupping a hand around his lighter, looking worse than hail. He talking twister? He shook his head, finally, lighting up a spark. Nah, he sighed, that ain't it. He kept going south for another ten minutes or so. The clouds were rolling in, fast. I could feel the increased moisture and the air.

sticking to my skin. I had to turn up the AC. We got to stop for another reading, said Javert. We're getting in the thick of it. We're turning back, said Reed. No, chuckled Shaver. No, we ain't. That's moving out of...

We're turning back. We have no idea what we're running into. You got no idea? Of Chavere, you really got no idea? You? Yeah. Reed let the paws hang in the air for a moment. I could feel the tension.

All right, said Javert. Guess we're going back. Tyre screeched as Reid turned. I could see flashes of light in the rearview mirror. Then came the thunder. Yeah, it's picking up, Reed said. So, it's not hail? Chuggled Javert.

I don't know what the hell that is. Told you it ain't hail. Now's not the time to be a smug asshole, Javi. I interrupted. Where he headed? Reed figured we could cut the thing off going north through Nelson, coming out behind it. As he shared his plans, I couldn't help but to notice Javier going quiet. This was a guy who was more banter than man.

And all of a sudden, he wasn't feeling it anymore. Bad sign. We kept sending updates. to the local NWS office and within minutes there was a weather warning going out I got one too return north

up the 25 hoping we'd get far enough before we struck the brunt of the storm with a bit of luck we could get some more accurate readings on the other side and still be home before midnight but yeah

no we weren't that lucky the storm picked up and we ended up in the tail end of the northernmost edge. We got hit by the rain first. I kept my eye on Reed's car, watching the raindrops gather and disappear with a tick-tacking of my windshield wipers.

Reed and Javert were arguing about the readings, about connection issues, about how the power strip was acting up, overcharging the batteries. I was having trouble hearing them over the radio. I could suddenly smell ozone. Again, you can smell it just before it happens. I bet Reid did too.

The first lightning strike came out of nowhere. Now, I've seen bad weather. I've lived it, slept in it, but this wasn't just bad weather. It was downright nefarious. Not just rain and thunder, but something else. A split second. In that single heartbeat where the strike lit up the sky and everything was quiet, there's not a person alive that's quick enough to react, giving this eerie, ethereal feel to it, as

Reed's car kept sailing straight forward. But in that light, I saw something. nose cast across the pavement. Something. Reed swerved, and the road took the wheel. He tried to bring it back, but it was too late. One wheel dipped into a ditch, lurching the car forward, spinning it around and nearly flipping it, ripping it off the road and about 25 feet into a nearby field,

made it look like a goddamn bumper car. I stepped on the brakes, leaning my car into the side of the road, I didn't even think about it. I grabbed my radio and hurried out of the door. I called out for them to respond, but they were doing the same right back to me. We screamed over one another in those chaotic first few seconds in a garbled mess. Finally, I stopped to listen. Reed came through.

Get back into your car. What? Get back into your goddamn car. I wasn't thinking straight. I was heading out into the field with no cover. In a storm, it's safer to be inside the vehicle. It can act as a sort of Faraday cage. I was completely exposed out there.

A quick turn of the heel and I was heading straight back to my car. I threw myself into the passenger seat and the moment I closed the door, the sky lit back up. A single lightning strike, reaching from the cloud. and into the windshield of Reed's car. And from that light, I could see them. There must have been a hundred. People.

Burn people. People with exposed bones, cracked skin, missing limbs, all in various stages of decay and decomposition. They were all over, covering the street, circling Reed's car, all just standing there in a white light. staring with dead eyes. And in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Thunder rumbled as the world turned dark. Javier threw himself out of the car. The strike had cracked straight through the windshield, shattering it. I couldn't hear Javier over the radio, but I could see him looking my way, pointing at the driver's seat where Reed sat. Reed, he wasn't moving. Lightning doesn't.

move like that. It hits the tallest point, not the weakest, but this one wasn't following the rules. Javier bolted for my car, rushing across the field. I left the passenger's side door open and crawled into the driver's seat, urging him on. Come on, I cried out, come on! He was sprinting at full speed with this wild look in his eyes. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes looked black. He didn't get far. Another strike, this one piercing straight through him. I could see his muscles contract and burst as his jaw twisted at an unnatural angle. And in that split second burst of light, they came back. They circled him. I could see them across the field in the hundreds, the lightning strike bringing out the image of their form.

looking at Javier with dead-eyed stairs. But one of them was looking my way. I didn't recognize him at first, but I couldn't help but to notice him. He was the only one of them looking my way. Reed. His eyes had rolled back in his head, and there was a smouldering black spot stretching out from his barrel-framed chest, just as dead as the rest of them.

Looking right at me, I was next. I could barely see. As the light faded and the figures faded from my eyes, my head shrieked from the pressure. As the thunder shook my car, the world looked grey. I think I was blinded temporarily. Everything looked red when I blinked. I couldn't even see Javert lying out in the field.

My first instinct was to take cover. That's what you usually do when you're stuck in a storm. You take shelter and you wait for it to pass. But this was different. It hadn't worked for Reed, and it sure as hell wouldn't work for me. I got out just seconds before lightning rocked my car, burning through the engine block and scorching the pavement underneath. In the flash of light, I saw them.

They were all there. Javier too. His jaw still twisted and bent But now they were all looking at me Waiting for me I stumbled backwards Falling into a ditch by the side of the road I got my clothes covered in rainwater

Stinging nettles and discoloured sunflowers The rain was relentless My first thought was to get up and run But I couldn't get my legs to move Instead I just curled into a ball, covered my eyes, and tried to make myself as small as possible. Strike after strike, after strike. But it didn't reach me.

And with every flash, the figures came closer. By the third flash, I was surrounded by the dead, shoulder to shoulder, packed like sardines. They didn't say a word. All they did was come close. reaching for me. It felt like an eternity. Every flash of light making my heart skip a beat. It felt like minutes past in every instant where the ground was struck. I covered my ears and eyes, but there was just no way not to feel it. It consumes your every sense. You can taste it, smell it. It's so bright it burns through your eyelids. It ripples through the hands you use

to cover your ears. It's such immense, ungodly power. I could feel them. Hands not having the time to grasp me. The smell of decay as a hand blinked in and out trying to strangle me. A flash of pain had someone tried to bite my leg, but the flash was over before the dead teeth could pierce my skin. I couldn't fight them off. There were too many, and it was impossible to tell where they were coming from. I waved my arms around frantically, scrambling to protect myself. In a fleeting moment, I looked up. I expected to see the clouds moving and a storm bringing the rain westward. But that's not what I saw. There was an eye up there. An honest to God eye, looking straight at me. In hindsight, it must have been as large as a full.

football field. It was such an immense thing that I couldn't comprehend it. It hung there, parting the clouds, and with every blink, another strike came thundering down, looking for me. I counted 18. 18 lightning strikes in the span of, at most, a matter of minutes. It felt like I'd been there for hours. Every strike lasting longer than the previous. But as the rain passed me by, I was left freezing and shuddering. The grasping hands stopped, the biting, the tearing. I was bleeding from cuts and bruises. But I was alive.

When I finally got back on my feet, there was nothing but cracked pavement, burnt grass, and two bodies. One still in the driver's seat of his car. the other left face down in the rain. It took me a couple of minutes to call it in. I couldn't believe it. I just sat there, trying to breathe. I've been telling people about it ever since. But they call it trauma.

Like it was all just a big accident waiting to happen. Even people in the business refused to listen, no matter their relation to read and his company. A terrible tragedy is all they're ready to say, as if a guy like Reed would mess up this bad. Lightning strikes do not aim. It doesn't happen. I tracked it as long and as far as I could, but from what I could tell, it dissolved somewhere over the coast of Norway. I read something about swaths of gulls being pulverized into rains of feathers in the fishing village.

over the northwestern coast. But that's where the trail ends. I've never had a problem with storms. Until now. Now, I wake up in the middle of the night, imagining I just felt the rumble of thunder. I freak out at sudden lights. I can't bring myself to go outside when there's an overcast.

I just got this feeling that, whatever that was, It didn't like me getting away. Maybe I can tell the next time it's near. I can kind of smell it.