CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "The Clown of Dobra Springs" Creepypasta

Episode Date: November 22, 2020

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by CreepsMcPastaCreepypastas 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-

I grew up in a small village called Dober Springs, named after the rich water which surrounded it. It's barely on any maps, and I'm pretty sure Google doesn't even list it. We had people run out of the town to pick up supplies, but often we lived off the land. The only visitors we got were relatives who left town, yet found themselves drawn back for visits. As you can imagine, nothing exciting happened much outside the turmoil of small village gossip. So, when a clown rolled into town, it was on the tips of everyone's lips. At first, it was talked of like an urban legend. Did you spot the strange clown?

You were either dismissed for propagating the legend or hailed for tales of the event. However, as more and more claimed to have seen it, it became irrefutable that there was indeed a clown wandering the streets. Piecing together from everyone's testimonials, well, the believable ones anyway, It seemed the clown would walk the streets with a huge grin on his face. He never said a word and was always in costume. On the moments you didn't just catch a glimpse of him turning the corner,

a colourful blur on the edge of your vision. He was performing. It became a sight to see when he would pull up to couples in the street, pull out a novelty-sized plastic flower, only to skirt water on one's face, or spilled something in an exaggerated comedic fashion, try wipe it up with a handkerchief, only for it to be daisy-chained and a seemingly infinite length.

The town was a buzz. On one hand, he was loved for adding colour to the otherwise drab scene of the town. Others held him a nuisance and said he should be expelled. I personally had no opinion, until I finally met him myself. I was with two of my friends, Drake and Charlie. It was after school and we didn't need to be home for quite some time, so we were doing what we always did before the weekend hit. We loitered around the town centre.

We sat by the old fountain with some soft drinks, litter cast aside, much to the chagrin of the elders, when we heard something approach. Was it ominous footsteps from yonder? No. Was it the stalking of a wild animal? No. It was the squeaks and honks of the clown's shoes.

He waddled his way over to us, a huge grin stretched across his face. We all looked, stunned. We knew he was real, but since we hadn't seen him yet, it didn't feel real until then. We stared, unsure how to act as he made his comedic shuffle towards us, and then he stopped. The tension was ripe as we waited with abated anticipation,

wondering if this was how our childhood would end at the hands of the strange-town myth buried in the gossip of the town. He reached over towards Jake, slowly extending his hand past his head, towards his ear. He whipped his fingers, and from behind produced a large coin. Jake recoiled and fell over, scared beyond his wits. In almost an anticlimactic finale,

the clown held out the coin and pandered across us all in a gesture to make us see. He then jerked his hand and in a phasmagogical motion, the coin disappeared. Charlie and I broke from our panic into a lucid sort of amusement. We laughed and clapped as he waddled the way to disappear around a corner. Jake was less impressed. He immediately went defensive, saying how he was caught off guard, how if he wasn't worried the clown was somehow paranormal, he would have knocked him out on the spot.

It seemed he took our amusement to the clown as an attack on Jake's pride. He felt mocked and targeted, and from then on would only slander the clown whenever. he was brought up. After a few weeks, and went from whispers about the mysterious town clown to everyone having their own encounter story. Tales were swapped around school at meal times and breaks, feeling still mixed, but excitement still a buzz in the air. Stories range from innocuous to strange. One kid claimed the clown walked up to him in the park. Like with most of us, he was too afraid to move. The clown grabbed his drink, pulled out a newspaper fashioned into a cone, and poured the

rest of the beverage in. He then whipped the paper straight, and there was no liquid inside. The clown awkwardly waddled away. Once broken from his trance, he was amused at the act, but sad that he no longer had a drink. But then he saw the clown peering around a lone tree in the field. He pointed towards him. After figuring out that he was pointing next to him, he saw that there was a new drink next to him. He drank his new drink while staring at the tree, wondering when he'd come out again. There was nowhere for him to go on either side. After nothing happened, he approached to see if he was still there, but he was gone.

A girl in my class told some of us that she woke up one night to the clown just standing in the corner of her room. She was scared but lucid and ended up falling back asleep. When she woke up, there was a balloon animal in the spot he was standing. Of course, many of us didn't believe her. It seemed the adults had a different way of seeing it. A lot of them, especially the older, more traditional generation, thought him a menace, terrorizing innocent bystanders with his hijinks.

Some even went as far as to describe him as a visual sort of the aesthetic of the town. In the town meeting, in which most of the town met, we heard stories and testimonies. Some told various stories of the kind of strange things the clown would get up to, but they'd add a malicious tone to everything, Riling of those that were already predisposed To be in against his presence In the end, the town was divided Some were okay with this new visitor

Enjoying the colour he added to the town He always kept things interesting in a friendly way Some were unbothered, choosing not to join in the debate And others were ready to race pitchforks Things carried on as normal Well, as normal as things can be With a strange clown performing 24-7 anyway You see, the longer things went, the more questions came up.

For a start, his appearances were a constant from the time he arrived. There would be a spotting every day, often multiple times. There wasn't a clear window of time he would perform. Sometimes he'd be spotted in the town square at lunchtime, riling up locals while on their break. Other times, people would wake up from a drunk night out, with hazy memories of meeting the cloud at 4 in the morning on their way home, always full of energy, performing some planned bit. Another strange query was that no one knew where he lived.

When he popped up, he'd just come out from around a corner, and, after performing his act, he'd disappear in the strangest ways. Some cited this as part of his act, but others were perturbed by how efficient he was at this, especially those that were apprehensive about him in the first place. Overall, he was an enigma, and you were either okay with this or terrified. Personally, my family and I didn't mind him.

We learned to just accept that he was going to perform some stunt when he approached. It was easy to let him do his thing, be impressed and move on. My friend Charlie was the same, though his parents didn't share the same feelings. It was Jake and his family that were some of the more vocally opposed to the clown. His parents were outcries in the exile of the clown. and Jake would twist his encounter with the clown into a negatively construed tale. I was too young at the time to be mad at what they were doing. I remember just being confused.

Sadly, this was the most peaceful era of his time here. As his hygiene's continued, so did the rise in tension. The people in the fence grew tired of his pranks and acts and started leaning towards the more opposed group. Even some of the people that were amused by him at first started to grow frustrated at trying to keep up appearances around him. As a kid, I loved it when he played with me. However, the adult seemed to have less patience.

Charlie's parents tried to get him to leave the clown alone when he was about. I remember a time when we were by the fountain again, and, as the clown wordlessly approached us, pretending to pull a rope towards us, acting like a strong wind was keeping him back, Charlie dipped his head and walked away. The clown played it off like he was looking for him. putting a flat hand to his forehead and scanning around like cartoon pirates did when looking out at sea.

But Charlie didn't play along. Afterwards, he told me his parents told him he had to do that from now on. The clown didn't seem to mind, carrying on as normal to me before leaving, but Charlie seemed a bit upset at having to miss the fun. If Jake was with us, he'd leave in a completely different demeanour. He would storm off, giving the dirtiest look to the clown, and to us on the way out. Afterwards, he keep up his charade of being able to defend himself if need be.

Jake's behaviour no longer fuelled by fear, but by hatred, the same kind as parents had. Charlie and I would always be confused as to why that would need to happen. The clown didn't have a malicious bone in his body. Though my parents never swayed from their positive outlook, they quieted down. The more authoritative figures in the community were starting to crack down on people, encouraging the, quote, menace.

I was told I could still be approached, however, I couldn't act too impressed, lest I be seen as the one keeping him around. They acted like he was an animal, and he was staying around because he was being fed attention. Slowly, more and more people would shun the town jester, and very soon the majority lay on that side of the fence. This all came to her head on a cold November night. A rowdy couple were out drinking Eric was the son of the head teacher And just freshly hit the legal age of drinking The girl he was with was Vicky

A nice girl that was out for a fun time They funneled out the small club early To get a head start home to beat the crowds When they were approached From behind a lamppost The local clown made his comedic waddle towards them Small hunk sounds ringing out with each step No one knows what trick the clown pulled

but whatever it was, Eric was not amused. He shoved the clown and proceeded to kick him, the sound of hornhunks and cowbelltings ringing in the 2am air, mixed in with a few notes of a bicycle bell. Eric grabbed Vickie's hand and pulled her away, much to a protest, and left the clown there beaten. Eric told his story of triumph of standing up to the town menace, though in Vicky's version she mentioned to a few of us

that as she was being pulled away, she looked back to see if the clown was still alive. All she saw was his face, watching them leave. That same grin of unbridled joy stretched across his face, as if he wasn't perturbed at all by the attack. The town talked this over, some bringing up comeuppance, others talking about things going overboard. The town settled on a divide,

most wanting the clown to be evicted. The only problem was how to do it. No one knew him personally And there was no legal grounds on his attempted exile It didn't matter though Because a week later He was found dead In the middle of the town square

The colourful body lay on moving His red smile mixed in with the blood That ran across his face It was apparent that he was beaten badly in the night No one approached the body But the commotion brought more people over eventually most of the town were in the centre, staring at the body that hung limply against the town fountain.

It was obvious what had happened. The whispers carried rumours and opinions. Some of the rumours of a group of people wondering the night with blunt objects, one figure looking remarkably similar to Eric. The first person to break the silence was one of the elders, one of the ones that fervently wanted the clown gone. He yelled out statements like what's done is done, and that though this was a tragedy, the town would be better for it.

Those not wanting him to hang on limp silence gave jeers of support, though they came out hesitant. My parents pulled me close, pain in their stance. Silence reigned, some under an air of grieving, others of hesitation. Just before a move was made, something catastrophic happened. The body burst into an inferno of flames. The plume was unnatural and completely, completely out of the blue.

Though people were shocked at the sudden burst, we didn't panic, knowing it was in the middle of a concrete path next to a body of water. There were efforts to try splash it with water from the fountain, but all it seemed to do was cause loud sizzling sounds

and blooms of smoke to burst upwards. It wasn't until the fifth villager that pitched in to move water under the flames to no avail. That worry started to spread almost as fast as the flames. Very quickly, it seeped across the dry concrete

towards the shops and cafes nearby. Discourse spread as some sprinted to action, trying other methods to quell the fire. Some grabbed nearby sand like it was an oil fire. Others ran into business buildings to rip out the fire extinguishers. Nothing helped. My mom pulled me away as she followed my dad out of the town square. I only blimps back,

but I could swear I saw a darkened figure dancing in the flames. A wiry grinned flickering in the shadows of the flames. shadows of the flames. The ravenous fires spread, some people not fast enough to retrieve valuables from their home before it was engulfed in flames. We'd only managed to pull out what we could carry in our backs before having to abandon our lifelong home. The town's populace had to edge out towards the outskirts of the village, the flames

engulfing anything in their path, hungrily lapping up all that didn't move. Screams could be heard. We only hoped they were of panic and not pain. As we made it to the very edge of Dobra Springs, someone pointed out a peculiar thing. A figure out of the hill nearby, moving strangely. A few of us approached, checking if they were okay. But even at a distance, it was easy to spot who it was from the flashy colours they were wearing. It was the clown.

He was joyously prancing about, miming a motion of feeling a wall, pressing hard and tapping around. He looked like he was enjoying himself, despite the chaos around him. A few of us approached him, hesitantly, due to the insane happenings, when there were some screams of shock behind us. A few people from our group were acting strange. They were pushing against an invisible wall, just like the clown. Only, they didn't look like they were playing. They leaned hard and their feet scraped against the floor as they shoved.

But whatever was holding them back did not budge. Others, however, walked by with ease, my family included. Everyone who made it to the end of the village took it in turns, apprehensively tried to step through the invisible pass. It seemed random who'd make it through and who wouldn't. Sometimes one would step forward with no problem, as if they were taking a morning stroll. Then you'd watch someone stub their toe,

which would make them fall forward and crash into the barrier, like someone walking into a glass door. Charlie made it through and join my family. family, but when his parents went to follow, they were blocked off. Charlie tried to reach in to pull them out, but to no avail. He was now locked out, as were the rest of us that made it through. I looked back, staring at all the faces I knew on the other side. Jake and his family held hands as they looked onward in confusion.

The mass exodus of the town continued, and we had a healthy number of people outside the town limits. However, there was a large portion of the population trapped inside. We could still hear them clearly, and panic was rising. One voice stood out, and we soon got our answer. The crowd's murmurs turned into angry rumblings when they spotted the clown, slowly making his way over. They weren't tones of shock at seeing him seemingly rise from the dead, or strange whispers of his odd movement. It was disgust of his presence.

They were the people that held disdain of the clans. down in their heart. The clown gave the lot a cheeky wave, to which some started to try throw stones and debris at him, hurling blame in his direction. The objects just bounce off the wall he was so playfully patting down. His mind act

no longer looking like an act, but a message, that he was now in control. The fires blazed, roars of flames reminding us all of our reason of being gathered together. The anger turned to panic as they tried harder to break through.

But when I say the wall gave no resistance, I mean it. It didn't so much as flex, even as the strong as amongst them worked together to strike through. Though they physically could not make it through, there was no resistance to sound, and we could hear their panic rise in clarity as the flames were soon upon their heels. My parents pulled me away quickly, trying to turn me away from the inevitable. I tried to turn back. My child had hoped saying that everything always works out in the end, that I'd see Jake, his family, and the rest of them make it through.

The lesson learned and hearts renewed. I didn't make it all the way around, though, because I locked eyes with a clown, who just smiled at me and bowed. That was the night Dober Springs was wiped off the map. Us, the survivors, reported it as a tragedy. Investigators were confused at the sight of the gathered corpses at the edge of the town, but eventually it was a bit of the survivors.

concluded to be as we told it. Nothing of the clown was ever mentioned. I always figured it was to protect him. But nowadays, I feel, it was fear. No one has seen him since. When the clown sightings of 2016 happened, these memories surfaced, and I kept an eye up for similarities between my case and these.

But nothing came of it. He seems to be gone. But on the off chance, you do see him. Please be nice to him. And tell him, I said hi.