CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "The dogs in my town aren't dogs anymore" Creepypasta

Episode Date: September 15, 2020

TW: Dogs get hurt in this one. Just a warning to those bothered by this.AUTHOR'S CHANNEL► https://youtu.be/-G1UJRxVV3cCREEPYPASTA STORY►by TimothyNurley: 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...CREEPY THUMBNAIL ART BY►nebezial: https://www.deviantart.com/nebezial/a...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-

Something about her ain't quite right. Phil rubbed his thumbs on the side of his dog's ear, just the way she liked it. Spice, his typically well-groomed border collie, whimpered constantly. She'd been eating much? I asked. Nope, gonna drive her out to the vet real soon. He continued comforting, Spice. He thinks she caught a bug off one of the strays when she ran after one. I walked down from my porch while Phil sat on his.

Mm-hmm, could be. I hope she gets better. I'll catch you later. Phil, my elderly, retired neighbour, had cared for Spice since she retired as a sniffer dog. Those two were a match made in heaven. I had known Phil since I bought the house next door, and I'd never seen him happier than the day he adopted Spice. I moved out to this small town in Louisiana a little over three years ago. The idea was to get away from it all

I thought that by moving out here I could escape to a place where life was slow where things were quiet and when nothing ever happened The one thing that did happen however was a rapid growth in the population of stray dogs Working for animal control This put a giant dent in my plans That quiet life I desired was quickly becoming just as busy as the city strife

A number of the impounded strays Who would most likely be put down Had caught some sort of disease We had attempted to quarantine infected dogs Keeping them away from the ones who were clean It was hard to tell Since unkempt strays Didn't exactly look healthy at the best of times

But we did our best to keep them separate Normally we would put down dogs It's not nice, I know But it's part of the job But increasingly dogs under our care would refuse food and die of starvation. Naturally, we cremated them. My day at work was busy, though uneventful.

I spent the day riding around with my co-worker, Mike, picking up stray dogs. It was his turn to drive the van today. We made small talk and each dropped our latest theories on what we had nicknamed the dog debate. Why was the population of strays exploding? and why were they getting sick? Initially, Mike said that he believed the unknown illness was an STD and the hot weather was making them mad horny. I thought that a puppy mill somewhere must have set a bunch of sick dogs loose

and we've been playing catch-up ever since. Over time, however, our theories became more silly and were a way of entertaining ourselves at work. This time, Mike said aliens were experimenting on dogs to create a breeding program I said that our town was actually a government black site where dogs are being trialled as a new surveillance technique. We took nine sick-looking dogs back to the pound.

Each one looking more bedraggled than the last. Matted fur, sunken eyes, frail bodies. Most didn't even put up a fight when we caught them. They near enough accepted their fate. Most of these poor, helpless animals would end up being put down if they didn't die before then. Their miserable appearances would have been enough to convince me to free them, had money not been an issue in life.

The dogs today are looking real bad, Mike, I said. Yeah, it's a really messed up alien breeding program, he startled. I'm being serious, I stifled a laugh. They all look like they're going to kick the bucket real soon. Saves us a job, right? Mike shrugged. Besides, we've been picking up sick dogs all summer. What makes these ones special? It's just different, I said.

I don't know. I returned home in the evening and Phil was sat on his porch. Spice's head rested on his lap. Evening cramps, I joked. Phil turned his head to me with an empty gaze. Um, Phil, you good? I asked. She's gone, kid.

Phil stroked Spice's head. What? I closed my truck. What do you mean? Spice. She ain't breathing. Phil turned back and stares straight ahead as he continued holding his companion. Damn Phil, I'm sorry.

She was just a little sick this morning. I walked up to his porch. Damn man, why don't you come in mine? Have a beer. Hey kid, you mind doing me a real big favour? Sure, what is it? You gotta take her up to the pound, cremator for me. We don't got urns, Phil. I rested my hand on his gate.

We just do strays. Dig a hole for me in my backyard then, would you son? Yeah, of course, bud. It didn't seem like it had really properly hit Phil that spice was gone. But we held a small funeral for her, burying her in his backyard. After having a few drinks, I went to bed. I told Phil I'll see him in the morning on my way to work. The next day came and Phil was nowhere to be seen.

He wasn't in his usual place, sat on his porch. I would have checked on him, but I was already running late. I ended up sleeping in past my alarm after drinks with Phil. I hopped in my truck and sped quickly on my way, texting my boss as I drove. I turned the corner leading out of my road and heard a loud thing. thump. I slammed on the brakes. Getting out of the truck, I walked around

the front to find a stray. A greyhound mixed with something else. My headlight was busted, and so was the dog. I loaded him into the back of my truck and carried on driving. You're late, my boss yapped. Get your ass over here.

Sorry, I hung my cap on the coat hook. He had a greyhound on my way here, got to grab him for the friar. "'That's the goddamn problem. "'The thing screwed. "'A bunch of muds kicked the bucket last night. "'What? "'Yeah.'

"'He opened the door to the furnace and peered inside, "'before standing back and slamming it shut. "'Guess when the earliest maintenance can fix it is. "'When?' I asked. "'No guess.' "'No guess?' he fiddled with the furnace. "'An hour or something?' I shruged. "'Tomorrow morning,' he shouted.

Man, it's got a smell in here, I smirked. No, it ain't. Get a shovel. Uh, we're supposed to cremate them, I said. Y'all are digging shallow graves. We can't have a bunch of dead dogs with some unknown goddamn disease lying around. Go out back and get digging. I met my co-worker who was already digging holes in the ground. Hey, Mike, this looks illegal, I laughed.

Just help me, would you? He thrust this shovel into the ground, then, pointed to one a few feet away. Grab the other one. We took 15 graves for 15 dogs, the 14 that had died in the pound, and the greyhound in the back of my truck.

I'll grab the one I hit earlier. I placed my shovel on the ground by the final grave and walked away to the parking lot. Sure, Mike's shovel clattered against the hard, dry dirt. I'll start with the ones inside. I peered into the truck bed,

looming over where the greyhound should have been. It wasn't there. It had disappeared. When I spoke to Mike about it, he was as confused as I was. There shouldn't have been any animals nearby that would have came and dragged it off, and no person would take the dead greyhound out of the back of someone's truck. Instead of dwelling on it, we decided to keep our boss happy and start burying the dogs.

One by one, we filled the 14 graves. When I returned from work, we. that evening, Phil was still nowhere to be seen. Usually we'd have a smoke and a drink on Friday evenings, but I figured he was still torn up about spice. It had only been a day after all. I ought to check on him, I thought. Phil, I called, heading towards his porch, opening the gate.

Hey, Phil? I knocked on his door. One second, kid. His voice muffled behind his door, sounded as though it was spilling from his lips in a rushed manner. You were right in there? I leaned against his wall with one arm. Yep, the door swung open, clanging as it pulled on the chain.

It's all good. He didn't look distraught, or distressed, or upset. How are you holding up, old time, huh? I smiled at him, trying to be somewhat gentle and reassuring. Good, getting by. He looked behind him, fiddling with a chain on his door. Just didn't feel like coming out tonight. You ain't doing nothing stupid, are you?

I asked. Nope. Phil looked behind him again. Just want to have a few drinks on my own tonight. All right, well, you come knocking if you need anything, all right? I said. Thanks, I appreciate it. Phil closed his door.

I know that I shouldn't have snooped my neighbour, but his out-of-character behaviour, combined with his recent loss, was caused for concern. I didn't want him doing anything irrational. Creeping beside his house, I sculpted through his backyard, careful not to tread on his flowers. I raised myself over to his window and peaked to the crack in the ever-so-slightly-jar curtain. Douting my eyes back and forth, I searched for anything that might give away why Phil was acting so strangely. There he was, sitting on his sofa, on his lap. Rested Spice's head.

I did a double take. Sure enough, it was Spice. She was covered in dirt from nose to tail, and he was brushing her fur. His free hand rested on her head. I could see his lips moving. I didn't know whether to cry or be sick. I walked around to Phil's backyard,

and sure enough, dirt. was strewn around a border collie-sized hole. I snuck back around to the window that I had spied Phil and Spice through. Now, on Phil's lap, Spice's head had turned to face me. Phil must have turned her over to brush the other side. I watched the pair through the window once more and considered knocking on his door again. Some moments passed and I thought about what I would even say. before I could make the decision

it was made for me Spice slowly raised ahead and sat up on the sofa next to Phil faintly I could hear her I saw her snarling at me my feet fell out from underneath me as I dashed away

and my keys slipped through my fingers as I tried to unlock my door I stumbled inside my house and slammed the door behind me I put the chain on before clamoring up the stairs and shutting myself in the bathroom. It wasn't long before I heard a knocking at the door. Three loud knocks, slow and methodic, reverberating through the walls of my house. And then three more.

I tiptoed downstairs and placed my eye to the peephole at my front door. There, stood on its hind legs, was the greyhound mix I had hit that morning, banging its already shattered head against my door. I stumbled backwards and the knocks kept coming, now accompanied by barking and growling. Then a chorus of howls. Back upstairs, I scanned the view from my bedroom. A patrol of dogs approached, relaying their wailing battle cries to one another.

My phone rumbled against my leg, and I trembled as I read the notification from my lock screen. It was my book. boss. Where did you two put the damned dogs? I looked out of the window again. As the pack paced back and forth outside my home, I recognised them as five of the dogs I'd buried earlier that day.

A sixth member of the pack joined them, looking rather less disheveled than the rest of the dogs. It was spice. She barked, communicating some sort of order to the pack, and they stood by her, staring at them. up at me. The greyhound mix retreated to a side, making the pack a total of seven. Spice barked again. This time she was barking at me. I opened my window. What do you want? My words only just evaded being caught in my throat. Spice sat. The rest of the dogs copied her.

She tilted ahead. The rest of the dogs followed along. I kept my door on the chain as I opened it. Immediately, the greyhound attempted to shove its way through. Salivis sprayed as the dog poked his head through the opening with vicious barks. I pushed back on the door, but I was saved only by the chain that stopped the greyhound from making its way through. I began to kick the door, hoping to get the greyhound to back down, but it became more enraged. I kept kicking and pushing the door until the dog stopped to. making noise.

There was a loud, crunching sound, a creak as the door swung back towards me, and a clank as it pulled on the chain. I looked down to the greyhound. Its already damaged head had been totally cracked by one final kick on the door. Pink, red, and a fluffy white leaked from the wound I had inflicted. Spice, a wearing voice called from beyond. Stop. Phil?

I peered from the door, over the greyhound. Don't hurt him, Pop. Phil knelt beside his companion and placed a hand on a head. Please, here's a good guy. He don't mean you're no harm. Phil paused. Hand still held to Spice's head. Spice calmly sat. He won't hurt any of y'all. He just don't understand. Phil paused again.

Look, I'll tell him to come out. promise me you won't go for him Phil what the hell is going on I wailed just come on out it's alright kid I unhooked the chain

and stepped over the greyhound that laid across my welcome mat I shuffled closer to Phil and spice the other dogs remained seated behind their leader tell me what this is Phil I kept a good distance

between myself and the pack She's gonna come to you, right? Phil stood up, taking his hand away from Spice's head. Spice sauntered towards me. What's she doing, Phil? I took a step backwards, almost tripping on the dead stray behind me. It's all right, he assured me. She just wants the talk.

Spice approached and sat in front of me on my porch. What does that mean? I frowned. Put your hand on her head, Phil said. All right. I knelt and placed my hand to spice his forehead. I felt a whirlwind of emotion as the world around me slipped away into darkness.

A rising sense of understanding, one that was contrasted by my complete ignorance filled my head. Thoughts raced around my mind, moving too quickly to pluck from the air on which they flew. faint whispers bobbed back and forth, swirling around me, before I finally found myself able to focus on the cacophony of voices that formed a single word. Hello, it said, a thousand voices as one. Who are you? I replied, where am I? I am the one you know a spice.

The words tickled and a visage of that familiar border collie appeared before me. You are still sat on your porch. I don't understand, I cried. You do not have to. The voice sighed. I only ask that you leave us in peace. Who is us? We are the mould.

We seek sanctuary inside of these vessels. You're what's making the dog sick, aren't you? Yes. You're using fill. I used him to destroy your incinerator so that my kind might live, but I care for him and he cares for you. How? You killed his dog, I shouted. Yes, but I share her memories. The voice cooed. I felt it reminiscing on the life of its vessel.

I feel how much she cared for him. Now I care for him too. He was her world, and Spice and I have become one. What do you want from me? I fell to my knees, begging for an answer, then remembered that I already knelt. The illusions melted away, and I saw what was in front of me again. Spice looked up at me from where I held my hand to her head. I looked around and saw Phil amongst the pack, all staring intensely at us. "'Leave this place,' Spice barked,

"'and never return. "'I left Louisiana for good within the week, "'hopping from motel to motel "'until I was able to get a place to stay with a family member "'while I sorted my life out. "'I wish I knew how Phil was doing, "'if he was happy, "'if he had come to terms with what Spice had become.

"'I don't know what happened to Mike or my boss. "'I never heard from either of them ever again. That small town in Louisiana gave me memories I will never forget, and questions I will never know the answer to. I miss it, but I'll be glad if I never see it again. I still feel uneasy when I see a stray dog. I always feel like they're watching me.