CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "The Creatures in Algonquin Park Look Very Different After Dark" Creepypasta

Episode Date: March 11, 2021

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The festival season is Aangbroken, and that betekent mudder. And so, ging Kim to come to comasone.com. On the look at a waterdict tent, a comfortable luget,

oh, so, knus, and lupart print regalarze. Miao! Now, now he'll keep Kim not sure to make over the modder. Net so as the dancing

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

Goar for. Find what you need what you need to My drive to Algonquin Park lasted longer than expected. After running into traffic and making a few wrong turns along the way, we got there late in the afternoon. My dad paid the fees at the front gate and proceeded to drive the remaining kilometres into the park.

We eventually found a way to the canoe launch and got out of the van, stretching our legs. My dad and Uncle Steve were looking over the maps, which appeared to have been hand-drawn by park rangers and were encased in clear plastic. I watched as they traced the route we would be travelling. They both agreed that it shouldn't be too complicated to make it to the campground, despite the fact that we've been delayed getting there.

A little bit late in the day to start a portage trip, said a park ranger to my dad as we were packing the last of our camping supplies into the canoes. We were meeting up with some friends who are out there waiting for us. They've already set up camp, so we've just got to make it to the island. Well, be careful. Once it gets dark in Algonquin Park, it becomes a whole different world. You folks be safe now. Thanks, we will.

My dad had lectured us the whole way there in a similar fashion, and I couldn't help but grin to hear him get a taste of his own medicine. Apparently, there were people who got lost in the park every year, never to be seen again. There were bears and wolves, coyotes and other animals in the wilderness, and we would be guests in their domain. I climbed into the front of one boat and my uncle took a seat in the back My brother was in the other canoe

And my dad climbed in awkwardly Nearly tipping over in the process The water was crystal clear and pristine I could see minnows swimming in the shallows Frogs and tadpoles I took a deep breath in enjoying the crisp fresh air of the northern outdoors And admired a great blue heron

That was resting in the shade nearby Paddling along the river We found our way towards a lake which opened up before us, revealing our first glimpse of the pristine beauty of the provincial park. The silence was overwhelming, away from car mufflers and computer fans and the constant noise of the city. The sense of sudden peace was overwhelming. All I could hear was the sand of my paddle slicing through the calm water, and the occasional call from a bird from the surrounding pine forest that engulfed us.

Other trees and plant life lie in the lake as well, maples and white birches. Some pale-looking twisted trees sprang from high cliffs above, growing against all odds, their roots hanging on from rocky outcrops that ranged in rusty reddish colours. My brother, Noel and my dad, was struggling with a canoe coordination. Noel and I frequently went fishing using the canoes at our cabin when we went up there, so I knew he wasn't the one having issues. It was my dad. My dad had never operated a canoe before, I realised.

in that moment. Although he'd spoken confidently, saying he knew what he was doing, he was struggling. He had insisted on sitting on the rear of the canoe, which is the most crucial position on the boat, since you act as the rudder, and also the primary source of power. Noel was fruitlessly paddling away up front, while my dad lackadaisically slapped at the water, sending the boat veering back and forth in his zigzag pattern. His ineffectual efforts eventually caused Noel to get slightly annoyed, and I heard them bickering at each other.

I looked back at them, trailing far behind us, and saw their twisting, turning path, was taking them over the lake, whereas we were travelling in more or less a straight line. Has your dad ever paddled a canoe before? Steve asked. I think it's been a while by the looks of it. Oh boy, maybe he should let Noel steer. Yeah, I'll suggest it at the first stop. We arrived at the first place where we had to portage across a short stretch.

For those who aren't familiar, this means you have to carry your canoe across dry land for a little ways to get to the next river or lake so that you can continue your trip. If you have a cooler and luggage and other items, you have to hike back and forth, sometimes two or three times. This is when it comes in handy to pack light. It took us two trips to bring everything, including the canoes to the other side. The hike between lakes was about ten minutes, so it wasn't too strenuous. That was the easy one, according to the map, my uncle Steve said. The next one is much further. Great, I thought to myself.

I guess it'll be my job to carry the cooler again too. We got back into the carved wooden boats and started paddling once more. My uncle had the map and was directing us which way to go while my brother followed with my dad in the other canoe. At least he had managed to get him to switch seats though. As we went along, I saw they were now keeping pace with us, with Noel at the rear of the boat generating more power, and his more experienced paddling keeping them on course.

What do you guys know about the legends of the Algonquin? My uncle asked us, making conversation. He and my dad both had a wealth of knowledge on various topics, but things like this were my uncle's speciality. He was an avid outdoorsman and a skilled fisherman, who took a deep interest in Aboriginal cultured, culture and the stories they told over generations. Nothing really, I said.

So, you've never heard of the Memigorsi? We all stayed silent and waited for him to explain. My uncle was a bit of a jokester as well, so it was hard to tell if he was kidding sometimes. He liked to put on a straight face and tell an elaborate lie in the form of a story, just to take you along for the ride. So, we waited to see if he was trying to fool us before answering yes or no. They're water spirits, mischievous little buggers. They'll steal your camping supplies if you're not careful.

Food, clothes, fishing rods, whatever they like. And they can send your canoe off course too. You'll be just paddling along like we are now, and the Memeguessi will send you off from the proper course, and you'll wind up lost. If you don't show them the proper respect, that is. Okay, enough with that, Steve. Quit trying to scare the kids with that crap.

We're barely going to make it to the campsite before it gets dark as it is. Turn right or better. head here. The map says it's going to be over this way. Weired our boats over in that direction and my dad's insistence and I noticed we were in a very shallow section full of reeds and plants. The canoes were almost touching

the bottom of the lake. Should we go this way? I don't think that's what the map is saying. My uncle was looking at the narrow river doubtfully. The area we were heading towards looked like a swamp. And mosquitoes were already beginning to land on me and bite my neck as we got closer.

My dad and uncle pondered over the map for a while, and my brother and I sat there and slapped the bugs landing on us. Eventually, they decided to take the route which led us down the shallow, winding river, surrounded by tall reeds. I could tell by the silence of them both, that they were not sure if this was the correct way. The further we got, and the more time passed, I noticed the sun had begun to set. Pretty soon, it was almost dark outside, and the water eventually became so shallow than it nearly dried up. The river had to be a little. The river had to be a little. The river had I turned into a muddy creek, and we were forced to turn around.

Uh-oh, my dad said, we must have gone the wrong way. We'll have to go back to that lake. I think I read the map wrong. My uncle bit his tongue, and we paddled back against the current. The lake was empty, and it was completely dark by the time we got back to it. There was no moon that night, and nothing to light our way. My dad told me to get out of flashlight and cast the beam towards the shore, looking for a reflective sign with a symbol for a portage point.

Just keep their flashlight pointed at the shore and tell us if you see a reflective sign anywhere, Jordan. This next portage should take us to the lake with a campsite, so there shouldn't be too much farther to go after we find it. My heartbeat was quickening with anxious fear as a canoes travelled along near the shore in almost total darkness, to check for deadheads and rocks in our path, and told my uncle to veer left or right to avoid hitting things

that would have tipped us over. We've got to be careful. Don't want to fall into these waters. There's another legend that people of this area used to speak of. My uncle said while we paddled, trying to distract us from the precarious situation we had gotten ourselves into. The Mashikina big. It's a huge horned serpent.

It lives in lakes and eats people. Okay, Steve, that's about enough. My dad was yelling when my ears caught a sound that I couldn't place. It was steady and persistent, coming from just ahead. It was steady and persistent coming from just ahead. The canoes were picking up speed.

I looked back and saw that my dad and uncle weren't paddling, weren't paying attention at all. They were just arguing with each other about who had taken the wrong turn. You and your ridiculous legends, you're distracting us with all this, this useless garbage.

Don't say that, you're going to upset them. You should apologize. I managed to find my voice and I yod back at them. There's a waterfall, up ahead, we're paddling towards a waterfall. They chuckled and told me that was ridiculous. There was no waterfall on the map.

Then they began to bicker again, and I started to get extremely nervous. The canoes were moving faster and faster, but nobody was paddling anymore. I was just a kid, so they weren't listening to me. Can't you see what's happening? I yelled at them. Look how fast moving! There's a waterfall up ahead! They abruptly stopped arguing, and now the sound of rushing water could be distilled.

think we heard from up ahead. Okay, let's start paddling towards the shore. I think we need to start paddling towards the shore right now. My dad was trying to sound calm, but I could hear the panic in his voice. We all began to paddle as hard as we could. In the dim light, I could barely see anything for the silhouette of trees all around us and the ink-black water of the lake. Shimmering reflections of stars were floating on the surface of it,

speeding past at an increasing rate. We began to make some headway, getting closer to the shoreline, but then suddenly our efforts became futile. We were being sucked in, drawn inextricably towards the waterfall. I looked ahead and saw it, drawing close. The night sky sat surreally above the surface of the turbulent black water which flowed downwards, disappearing from sight. And when I saw how close it was, I screamed. Watching in horror, I saw us go over the edge and the world tipped sickingly upside down as I fell. Becoming weightless was a harrowing experience, as for a moment I floated through the air, my screams echoing out into the night.

The wolves held in response and I descended, looking down to see jagged rocks waiting for us below. Far, far, far down below. We fell and our screams echoed across the lake. I tried to point my feet downwards afraid of what might happen if I impaled the water incorrectly After what felt like forever I landed in the frigid depths below

The surface of it hit me with so much force That it nearly knocked the wind out of me And I struggled to breathe As I gasped from the cold sinking downwards The way to my boots dragged me below And I kicked trying to get them off my feet They felt like cinder blocks And as my head dipped beneath the surface of the water

I gulped it in and it went up my nose, stinging my sinuses. I called for help, but my pleas were drowned out by the water once more. My head went under again, and this time I stayed down longer, struggling to get back to the surface. I looked around in the murky water and saw a pair of eyes glaring back at me from the depths. Yellow eyes, they were unblinking and massive, glowing in the darkness. A tipped over canoe was close by when I got to the surface, and, I grabbed a hold of it and took a gasping breath of air. My dad and brother were okay, I saw, and my uncle had survived the fall too,

although his head sustained a large gash and he appeared dazed and hurt. You need to apologize, Dave. My uncle told my father, sounding drunk now, his words slurred and difficult to understand. You've disrespected the spirits here. Apologize before they kill us all. What? Those stories you were telling to scare the kids. kids, are you still talking about that?

Suddenly, I felt something wrap around my ankle, and although I held onto the canoe as firmly as I could, I felt myself being dragged down. There was no time to scream, but I tried to take a breath of air before being pulled down below. My uncle's hand reached down and managed to grab mine, and he held onto me for dear life. I felt like I would be pulled into, as a thing from the depths tore at my leg, yanking me downwards. As the time passed beneath the water, my need to breathe became more.

more urgent. I began to thrash and kick my legs, trying desperately to free myself from the thing which was pulling me down. My heartbeat was loud and fast in my ears, and I looked in terror to see the yellow eyes of the thing were very close now. It was coming towards me, and in the black murky water, I could just barely make out its massive horned head and gaping more. Huge fangs and a split tongue could be seen in the dim light as the snake came face to face with me. The massive beast was so large it could swallow me whole, I realized, and I cringed and waited for that to happen, momentarily resigned to my fate. But then, the light shone down from the surface, a bright torch lamp that made the snake cringe and recall in fear. It loosened its grip on my leg, and I felt my uncle

pulled me towards the surface. My vision was clouding red and black, and as I began to feel like I was passing out, I broke through the surface of the water and was pulled up and onto a large canoe. friends who had been waiting at the campsite, waiting for our arrival, had heard us screaming as we went over the waterfall. The campsite was close by, and they had quickly gotten in their boat to come rescue us once they realized what had happened. If not for them, we would have been dead. At least, so it seemed. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. My dad was repeating the words over and over. It's not your fault, Dave. These things happen. As we paddled over towards the campsite. At least nobody got hurt, right? That's the important thing. My uncle rubbed his bleeding

forehead and rolled his eyes at me. Thanks, Uncle Steve, I said to him quietly. He nodded and said, No problem, kiddo. I saw the horn serpent down there, Uncle Steve. I think you're right. We should probably be respectful of the creatures around here. I don't want to get on that guy's bad side again. He smiled. His eyes shining. read for just a second in the moonlight, and I notice his face appear different, like someone else entirely, a being which had been sent to help us, both ancient and wise. Just wait until I tell you the tale of the great rabbit. I've got plenty of stories, and each with a lesson.

For those who will listen, and who have ears to hear, he put two fingers over his head, making little bunny ears, and smiled.