CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "The Elevator People" Creepypasta

Episode Date: December 26, 2020

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by MrClarenceWorley: 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►Gerasimos Kolokas: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Pm...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 have a close friend who's a psychiatrist. Please don't read too much into that. She mostly just teaches these days from a textbook that she wrote no less. But back when she was still practicing, this friend's speciality was the treatment of specific phobias. You know, patients with an irrational fear of heights or needles or spiders, stuff like that. That's why I lovingly refer to her as Dr. Scary, a nickname which she absolutely adores no matter what that lion cow tells you. One night, when we were both especially turned,

I asked Dr. Scarry if she ever encountered a patient with a phobia that managed to scare even her. We were seated directly beside each other on the wooden bench, swinging suspended from a back porch. But Dr. Scarry didn't look at me when she replied. Her gaze remained fixed on the shadowy expanse of a well-manicured backyard, and she scoffed and slowly nodded. And then she said,

The elevator, people. When this particular patient, a 39-year-old medical supply salesman, who will call Simon, first showed up at Dr. Scarry's office, he had listed Fear of Elevators as the reason why. Needless to say, but if that was an accurate summation of Simon's issue, we wouldn't be here. It all started almost a year prior while Simon was at a conference in Las Vegas. He was there with his sales manager, scoping out the latest innovations in pacemaker technology and hoping to find a decision. distributor willing to haggle. The trip really was all business too. Simon had never been much for gambling, and the live shows gave him a headache.

The conference might as well have been in voice for all he cared. Simon noted that the initial elevator ride up to his hotel room that night had been perfectly uneventful. Though his flight to McCarran had been delayed, of course. Simon had barely made it to the hotel with enough time for a quick shower and change of clothes before the meeting greet at the lounge at 8pm. It was five after when he finally re-emerged from the room in a flurry. Ty is still untied, and his blazer draped over one arm. As Simon hurried over to the bank of elevators at the other end of the hall,

he got a text from his sales manager, who sounded annoyed and was currently waiting for him down in the lobby. Simon hit the button to call for an elevator as he began to frantically tap out a response text explaining the flight delay. There was a mechanical ding as the middle elevator's metal door slid open in his periphery. Simon started inside the elevator as he finished his text and hit send. He looked up to smile politely at the other passengers on board. And that is when Simon went rigid. His half-worn smile freezing in place as a tingling surge of fear temporarily over a control of his body. To his right, and naked and skeletally thin old man stood grinning back at Simon.

The man was completely hairless, his malformed bald head was a bald head was a the shape of a used pencil eraser. He didn't have eyebrows or facial hair. To Simon's left stood a woman in a tattered grey dress. She appeared to be hairless as well, and had a similarly deranged grin stressed across the front of her similarly bald and oddly shaped head. She sported a pronounced hunchback

and a glimmering feline eyes. Simon's bewildered gaze darted from the naked man to the female hunchback, then down to the bald child peeking out from behind her. The woman shoved the child back out of sight as the naked man attempted to grab Simon by his face. Seeing those grimy fingers darted towards him was enough to finally snap Simon out of his shock, and he just barely managed to evade the naked man's grasp with a single leaping jump back out of the elevator. He hadn't moved like that since college, and every joint and tendon in Simon's legs was currently screaming at him.

Fortunately, at that moment, adrenaline was making it impossible for Simon to register much of anything. else, aside from the elevator doors sliding closed and what felt like slow motion, just as a lunging naked man was about to reach between them. A dumbstruck Simon was still standing there, quietly panting and staring at those same closed elevator doors a full minute later, when an attractive blonde woman approached from the other end of the hallway. She gave Simon a wave as she neared, but he didn't seem to register her presence. The woman's expression went from confused to annoyed, as she noticed at the button to call the elevator still needed to be pushed. Simon shook off his days, managed to take the next elevator

all the way down to the lobby without further incident. If you count several awkward glances from the attractive woman who rode down with him. He was only fashionably late for the rendezvous with his sales manager, who was already busy talking up several of the reps waiting in line for the meeting greet. The open bar and name conversation helped Simon put what had just happened to him out of his mind for the moment, and to his surprise, it actually turned out to be a rather lucrative evening. So much so that about an hour in, Simon's manager gave him a pat on the back and announced that he was going to officially clock out for the night to, quote,

start focusing on Humabang. Still feeling a bit jet-lagged and generally exhausted from his earlier encounter, Simon decided to take this opportunity to get some much-needed rest before tomorrow when the real work needed to get done. As he exited the hotel lounge and made it, way back across the lobby, Simon spotted a pair of Vegas newlyweds forcefully making out while they waited for an elevator. A wave of relief washed over him when Simon realized he wouldn't have to ride back up to his room alone. An elevator arrived a few moments later and Simon hit the

button for the 10th floor as he entered. The couple followed him on and the young guy leaned away from his better half just long enough to poke the button labeled 3. Simon's stomach began to a churn as he realized he was going to have to ride for seven whole floors by himself. When the car stopped to let the couple out, he was tempted to exit with them and take the stairs the rest of the way, but the lovebirds had seen him hit the button for the tenth already, following them off now without looking like a weirdo and would be rather difficult. Simon just barely managed to suppress his urge to sprint out of there and took a deep breath as the elevator door slowly slid shut with him still enclosed behind them.

The elevator resumed its ascent, and almost immediately the overhead lights began to flicker. This prompted a tired eye roll from Simon as he muttered, You've got to be kidding. That's when the lights switched off completely. He could feel the car continue its climb as he reflectively spun around and pressed his back to the cold steel of the elevator's inner doors. Somewhere, just past the oppressive darkness now enveloping him, Simon could hear movement.

He held his breath in an attempt to better discern the sound's location. As Simon's eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he glimpsed what it first appeared to be the silhouette of a massive spider crawling towards him. But this was only a trigger of perspective. What he was actually seeing was merely a hand reaching out to grab Simon by his face. There was another ding as the doors he was leaning against finally slid open, sending Simon spilling out onto the, the hotel's gaudy painted carpet, landing face up and locking into an open elevator that currently appeared to be both well lit and noticeably empty. It was that moment right there when his fear of the elevator people truly took root.

Since the inciting incident was tangibly related to his job, Dr. Scarry's first instinct had been to examine Simon's work life. He claimed he couldn't have been happier on that end. He liked the job and he had made good money doing it. Simon even liked the people he worked for, despite the fact that his sales manager was five years younger than him and a womanizing dick. He was a young womanizing dick who knew the market and stayed out of Simon's way. At that point, the only negative aspect of his job stemmed from his recent inability to easily move about tall buildings. That might not sound like much of an issue to those of you who don't live and or work in large cities, but Simon did both.

Granted, being in sales meant he spent most of each workday away from his own office, but the majority of that time was usually spent visiting other people's offices in different, often taller buildings. As is typically the case with phobia patients. In the beginning, Simon tried to solve the problem by developing various workarounds for his sudden, yet crippling fear of riding in elevators alone. He started scheduling a lot more lunches with prospective buyers. He offered to take clients golfing,

anything that would get them to meet him down on ground level. He even volunteered to train the new intern because he gave Simon someone he could drag along with him on cold calls. But there were still the annual conferences which were always out of town and often involved staying in hotels. And there was also the mortgage on his high-rise condo apartment which his husband, Ronald, absolutely adored.

Simon had confided in Ronald about his fear of the elevator people pretty much as soon as it became an issue. The whole thing had been rather difficult to hide from him, given the circumstances. Of course, Ronald was totally understanding, and most nights, he was able to meet Simon down in the lobby when he got home from work, so they could ride the elevator up together. Of course, no system devised by humans was ever truly perfect. Eventually, there came a day when Ronald had to suddenly go out of town to assist his cousin with an extended family emergency. which resulted in Simon having to sprint up 15 flights upstairs to now only avoid crapping himself

because he had scheduled three different lunches with clients earlier that day and two of them were at the same Mexican restaurant. It was actually this very bathroom mishap which finally convinced Simon that he was going to need professional help for his phobia if he wanted any chance at living a normal life. Though, in a rare and rather humbling turn of events, Simon's case was the first one in a long while that had Dr. Scary feeling holy and truly stumped as to how she should proceed.

She had asked about Simon's relationship with Ronald. He was the greatest thing that ever happened to him, Simon's parents, both still alive and super-accepting of their successful gay son, and the likelihood that this was all stemming from a traumatic childhood event Simon simply failed to mention, apparently not very. I grew up in Connecticut, he said. Dr. Scary must have looked disappointed by this answer because Simon followed it up with Not a big fan of the Constitution State

I'm just worried you might be schizophrenic It was now Simon's turn to look disappointed As he took a moment to consider this Then he said Isn't that a hereditary condition Typically but not always There may be no documented cases in your family history There are

Simon replied with a nod My aunt and my aunt and my grandmother. Dr. Scary held up her hands in a slow down gesture and said, OK, back up. For starters, symptoms of schizophrenia typically start to present in men by their early 20s. Plus, that was pure speculation. It's just as likely we simply haven't located the right stressor yet.

There's plenty of stuff we can try. Like what? Are you familiar with the concept of exposure therapy? Dr. Scarry typically didn't like attempting such a drastic treatment. this early into the process, but she clearly wasn't getting anywhere just talking with Simon. Dr. Atterodora

thought that if she could watch and react to the source of his phobia in real time, it might tell her something that Simon couldn't. So, she decided to make their next session a house call. It was just past 1pm when Dr. Scarry arrived at Simon's high-rise condo complex.

At that time, on a weekday, his husband, Ronald, like most of the building's tenants, were still at work. This, of course, had been intentional. They required an empty elevator for the exposure therapy, and Simon didn't need to feel any more self-conscious about this than he already did. It doesn't have to be all 15.

One would be fantastic. Ride one floor down by yourself and look. Dr. Scarry gestured at the smartphone in Simon's hand. He turned her own around to show him that the two phones are currently face-timing each other as she continued. I'm going to be here with you the whole way. Dr. Scarry gently grabbed Simon's arm and guided it up until his phone camera was aimed at his face. Right here. Perfect. Now, we're going to get started, okay?

Simon didn't respond, but it was clear from his expression that he wasn't exactly psyched about exposure therapy. No phobia patient ever was. But then finally, Simon glanced at her as he lifted his shoulders in a nearly imperceptible shrug before returning his gaze to the elevator's closed outer doors. Okay, Dr. Scarry repeated. She then casually hit the button to call for an elevator as she turned to head inside Simon's condo. She leaned her back against the door to shut it behind her as Dr. Scarry held up a smartphone to address Simon through the screen. His uneasy expression had transformed into something more primeval by this point.

He looked like a wild animal sensing an approaching storm. Dr. Scary tried to comfort Simon by saying, Remember, I'm right here. Simon's eyes stayed trained on the elevator doors, as he eventually replied, No, you're not, and there's nothing you could do anyway. Tears began to stream down his cheeks. Dr. Scary attempted to say something in protest,

but was suddenly cut off by the familiar ding of an arriving elevator. She heard the metal doors slide. open and then Simon let out a sudden thunderous gasp. Oh God, no, oh God, no, Jesus, please, he frantically muttered as he started to back away. What? What are you seeing? Look, he screamed. And then turned his phone around so Dr. Scarry could see inside the elevator. The interior wasn't well lit and it was hard to make out most of the details through Simon's forward-facing phone camera. But Dr. Scarry swore she saw two figures inside the elevator.

elevator. They were both bald. The one on the right was skeletally thin and appeared to be naked. The figure on the left was shorter and had a pronounced hunchback. And, just before Simon finally dropped his phone and sprinted inside the condo, Dr. Scary glimpsed a much smaller figure behind the first two, lying motionless against the back wall of the elevator. She said this smaller figure resembled something somebody had crumbled up and tossed

aside, like the bold-up piece of paper you find next to a trash can, but instead of paper, it's pale skin and broken bones covered in bite marks. Bite marks? Dr. Scarry nodded and replied, Big red bite marks. I waited for her to continue, but she remained silent for several moments. Then, finally, Dr. Scarry turned, and, for the first time since starting a story, She looked at me

Her mouth was twisted into a somber, humiless smile As she said After that Simon stopped showing up for his sessions He killed himself a few months later Cords off guard I reeled back and replied Good God woman

When was all this Dr. Scarry's sad smile Got a little sadder And she said Right before I closed down my practice Another long A much more awkward silence followed. Then, as if she could sense the one question I was still too afraid to ask,

Dr. Scarry added, I never saw them again after that, though I'll be honest. For a while, I was genuinely scared I might. But what happened that day was merely a prime example of the power of suggestion. Simon's fear of the elevated people made them so real in that moment. It's actually not surprising I saw what I did. I thought this over and then shrugged. as I said. Make sense. Though, of course, there were the dreams. You had dreams about the elevator people. Dr. Scarry slowly nodded

while avoiding my eye contact. She excelled a sigh and then said, It actually still happens occasionally. It's the weirdest thing too. Most of the time I'll be dreaming about nothing especially terrifying. You know, like visiting my sister, who somehow now lives at the summer camp we used to go to as kids, mundane stuff like that,

and then, out of nowhere, I'll get hit with this. She tends the fingers into a claw-like gesture as she motions at a chest and said, Overwhelming sense of hopelessness. That's how I know they're close. Dr. Scarry glanced over at me again, and I saw that her eyes were now brimming with tears, yet the tone remained almost unnervingly even as she continued.

And that's when I'll really. I realize I'm standing at a bank of elevators, and I can hear one approaching from below, and that creeping, hopeless dread is now so palpable I can literally taste it in my mouth, like dirty copper. I turn and try to run, but my legs feel like they're encased in cement, and I can hear the elevator doors opening behind me. I don't want to look, but I know it won't matter. The worst part, though.

In the dreams, they know my name. I put her hand on Dr. Scarry's shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, and she suddenly turned to glare at me, a morbid grin where her somber expression had just been as she nearly shouted, Do you want to know what they tell me? I opened my mouth, but before I could stutter out a coherent response, Dr. Scarry started blinking, and her creepy grin reverted to a confused frown. She said my name like a question and asked if I was okay. I lied and told her I was fine,

and thanked her for sharing such a fascinating story. And yet at first, I thought there was no way I was ever going to tell it to anyone. Sure, it was creepy enough to have potential, but in the end, it just left me feeling sad for my friend. So I put the whole thing out of my mind, and for a while, that was that. Though, yes, much like Simon,

I too technically live and work in a major city, but my place is a duplex and my job is at a bar, so I typically don't encounter a lot of elevators in my own day-to-day life. But then my dentist retired, and the new guy my insurance switched me to just so happened to work at one of the CBD's taller high-rises. And even then, I managed to get all the way across the building's otherwise vacant lobby and hit the button to call for an elevator

before Dr. Scarry's story finally came rushing back to me in vivid detail. It was the first time I'd even really thought about the elevator people since that night. I remember the look in her face as she described what she saw during Simon's exposure therapy session. The way she had grinned when she said, Do you want to know what they tell me? I was outside in the courtyard, ordering the front of the high-rise and trying to steady my hand long enough to light a cigarette before I was fully aware that I had left the building.

It was about then that I decided two things, almost simultaneously. Number 1. 12 flights of stairs would definitely count as my cardio for the day. Number 2. If I have to worry about this mess now, I'm taking the rest of you with me.