CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "The Incident on Sommercroft Island" Creepypasta

Episode Date: November 10, 2020

That Thing from the OceanCREEPYPASTA STORY►by ReapingRainbow: 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►Tsvetomir Georgiev: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Vd...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-

The following is a transcript from an interview with a man named William Burgess. I am not able to release more information on this man or the following events at this time, as my employers are unaware that I'm bringing these activities to the public. Please understand that I'm putting myself in danger by doing this, but I can't live with myself in the events that have come to light again and again in my time here. I will remain in touch and have more information to share later. But for the time being, take this knowledge to heart, and please. Stay away from Summercroft.

I never would have believed such a thing could have possibly existed if I hadn't seen it for myself. It was the one thing to come of that entire trip that I didn't regret, seeing it. Was it worth the cost of everything that came after? I really can't tell you. I'm not the type of person who can give you those sorts of answers. Go talk to a priest or an economist. One will tell you about the value of your soul, the other, your life. Weird how there's a difference between the two.

I'm sorry, my thoughts have a tendency to wonder. You don't go through something like I did, without some sort of lifelong cognitive dysfunction. Could I have a glass of water? All right, in a bit then. You see, I was on vacation. A cheap one. It was some tiny island that barely had more than a whisper of a village on it.

Summercroft. The name of the island was the name of the town. That's how small it was. I think it had been named at the intention of being some sort of paradise vacation spot. There was even a resort there. Technically, it still is, I guess. Whatever some bleach bones remain in the place, anyway.

Year after year of bad luck, after the resort was built, destroyed any possibility of recouping the loss of having built it. The thing that had been designed to bring wealth and happiness the Summercroft was really the thing that killed it. My point is, going to that island is dirt cheap, and I don't exactly make a king's ransom. I'm sure you didn't sit in your playpen as a tot and think,

oh boy, I want to grow up to be a custodial for a multinational chemical company that treats the environment like a toilet and it's employs like the turds floating in it. That'll be swell. So yeah, cheap was a priority. The trickiest part was getting the plane fare, but people will do nearly anything if you have something they want. You'd be surprised how many people really, really want.

chemicals, the dangerous kind, the get taken by the FBI if I tell you about them kind. Believe me, I'm doing you a favour by not elaborating. Let's just say I got the cash and went to my way. What do you mean sounds like an awful lot of risky work for a pretty scummy vacation? You're going to sit there, look me in the eye, and tell me you haven't been willing to cut your own arm off to get a damn weekend away from your co-workers, your friends, your terrible neighbours that play their music too loud and never make their damn dog start. barking all goddamn night? The people you work for, who are so stuck up

their own asses that they don't acknowledge your existence, unless one of them makes a mess, and one of them breaks their toilet with a crap that doesn't stink, and one of them throws a party and refuses to clean up, despite being the one to brandlessly fling the damn thing together in the first place? That if you didn't get out, and get out soon, you were probably

going to take a paperweight off your boss's desk and just... Yeah, that's what I thought. Now, where was I? Ah, the island Look, I really should just skip over the boring parts You're not here for the boring parts I don't want to talk about the boring parts

I flew in, walked around Realised I was getting what I was paying for here Then headed straight for the local bar It was the sort of seedy joint That could give you a buzz just by walking into the room I peeled some poor schmuck off the counter And got myself a beer It was a brand I was unfamiliar with

And tasted like it had been sick on the ride here from the mainland, but I didn't really care. The first hit a booze sent a wave of ease through my veins and directly into my brain. Nobody here knew me and nobody cared. They seemed they were focused on their own concerns. As I said, the whole lot was drunk, but a few had their wits about them well enough to eavesdrop on. At first I thought there were more tourists. They seemed to have been here for a while.

Some darkened skin worn to wrinkles, wind-swept hair gone brittle from sun, salty ocean spray. I turned a bit, nursing a second bottle by now, making no effort to hide that I was listening. From what I gathered, something had washed up on the shore. Not exactly a surprise on an island paradise. I figured it might have been bits of a wreck, or maybe, God forbid, a damn whale.

Whatever it was, it sounded huge. I listened long enough to peel the label off my bottle, click it to the floor, then slide out of my stool to move to the table. I guess that beer was a lot stronger than I thought it was. I staggered a bit on the way. Weird, since I can normally down a whole case without so much as a wobble. They didn't look pleased and stared at me through narrow, mistrustful eyes.

Maybe I looked too shiny and new, clearly fresh off the plane. Tourist trash and a tourist trap. What's this you guys are talking about? Yeah, bold and brassy of me, right? What can I say? A little liquid courage goes a long way. I thought they were two old geysers, but now that I was closer,

I could see a certain sharpness to their eyes, a fullness to the flesh that made me think that they might even be younger than me. Whatever wall they put me up to, they didn't take it down until I shrugged and waved over a few more beers. Maybe it wouldn't have worked if they hadn't already been well into their cups.

It's hard to explain, one said, a blue-eyed fellow with a faded grey sweater. Real rotin guy with a bristly jaw and a red beat of a nose. He looked at the other, who favoured a thick salt and pepper beard and a worn tan jacket. Dozens of pockets on the thing. Each one I could imagine holding a fistful of fishing lures. Swipped in after the storm, the bearded one said, taking a swig of his bottle, pressed into the cliffs on the easterly side of the island. He shook his head, half of a bemused grin curling across his face.

Honestly, it just looks like a massive pile of sand. Silt, whatever, holds its shape a bit, and it hasn't been swept away by the tidal storm so far. Some of the kids have even started calling it a sandcastle. All fun and jokes, but there's something off about the damn thing. The bigger guide nodded, looking to me with eyes full of burst capillaries. This one should probably lay off the boost sooner rather than later.

I swear to it. I saw something slithering in and out of it. Get close enough and you can see moving just beneath the surface. Then I said, What? Look, I'm getting to the point, okay? You suits can be real assholes, you know that? This is how you do, you know?

You set up for the big reveal, build attention and then... Fine. Look, basically they told me. They didn't know how it got there, and that it had been pressed against the cliffs for a few weeks. There was this guy. Sully? Sully. He was the first to find it, so they said.

Went back into town and got a few others. Sully was a dullard, always poking his nose and places where it didn't belong. After he pulled together a crew, he pushed and bullied, until he convinced three other guys that they needed to go inside. Yeah, inside. Yeah, that's what I thought too. How the hell do you go inside? A giant ass pile of sand and rocks that got whipped up on the shoreline by a storm.

These two guys, they told me when Solly and his crew got close, it rippled, it shivered, then opened up. A cavern entrance peaked open and those idiots just walked inside. Stayed open for maybe 15 minutes, then sealed up tight. Nobody came out. Nobody approached it again. Four souls gone Well sounded like a heaping pile of BS to me

So I asked these two jerk-offs to show it to me Where's this big ass pile of dirt you're all so scared of Maybe I was a little drunk by that point Because I was a lot louder than I intended All heads across the room turned to look at us A mixture of surprise and fear Gave me a feeling that There might be more going on than what those two told me

me, but you know how it is, and you've seen too many rooms through the bottom of the bottle. Now, you probably heard about the fight that broke out. Drunk men make bad decisions, yada, yada. I could have taken on those guys, but not both of them. Maybe it was stupid. Two seafaring men who clearly had been honed by the ocean and their lifestyle to kick tourist ass. Yeah, I got thrown out. So I got this scar here, see?

That's right, weird, ain't it? But you thought that scar had been there for months. I got my face busted open on the rocks outside of a no-account bar in the middle of a nowhere village on a do-nothing island two days ago. Doesn't feel like two days ago. You suits move real fast, you know that? How the hell did you even hear about? All right, all right, I'll keep going.

But can I get some water first? When I finally found the damn thing, I could barely see it. I don't know if you've experienced. experience the darkness that comes from being alone on a beach. No ambient light from a big city, the world cut off by the ocean on your right and cliffs on your left. There were distant clouds cutting off the moon and blanketing out a huge swath of sky. But I thought they were too far away to care about.

I had no idea how quickly an island storm could sweep in and just destroy everything. I was tucked away between two massive slabs of stone, at first appearing, just as those drunks in the bar described it. just sand and silt. All that build-up for just a heap of nothing. It made me mad. Madder than it should have.

Look, I don't know if you've noticed by now, but I've got a bit of a temper. It's how I lost my first three jobs and how I got thrown out of my first apartment. Nothing major. It's not like I've ever murdered someone. It just leads to some bad decisions.

Everyone makes bad decisions sometimes, you know, know? I'm sure you've made plenty. Damn, right, well, I'd be lying if I didn't say there was a particular draw to it. I know, it's hard to explain. Just like the asshole said earlier, right? There was a moment, very briefly, when the moonlight managed to push through the clouds and pass over the thing, the structure, whatever it was, and it sort of, well, it shimmered. This is going to sound stupid, but have you ever looked at oil and water?

A weird rainbow shine to it? That's sort of what it was like. I barely saw it. I was all set to turn away and go back to town and then bam. It was like a whole net of hooks latched onto my brain and began to draw me forward. Have you ever walked in your sleep? I haven't either, but it's the only comparison I have. It was like I both was and was not in control of my body.

Maybe being a little drunk didn't help It just seemed like such a good idea to walk up to it Sometimes you just don't realize How immense something is Until you're up close It took me entirely too long to walk from where I was on the beach To the base of the structure It felt like half the night

But I knew in my bones If I turned to look at my footsteps on the sand It wouldn't have been at any distance at all Once I was close enough I could see that it wasn't a smooth pile of sand There was a vast, intricate network of grooves carved into the side of it, and it was doing more to support its own structure than it seemed. I felt, knew, that if the stones and cliffs disappeared, that the thing would stay exactly as it was. As if God and the ocean and Mother Nature herself had decided this was simply how it was meant to be.

That shimmer passed over it in pulses, like a heartbeat, going stronger and brighter as I approached. How could I not see it earlier? A perfect, thrumming, peaceful chorus of light and voices. Yes, voices, whispers, slithering in my ear and curling around my brain, pressing on the inside of my eyeballs and curling down my throat. I could hear them, feel them. I had no idea what they were saying, but they were beautiful. I'd use that term beautiful before.

I don't think I could ever truly use it again. No work of art, no woman, no child, no song. This sound, this tone, this was beauty. All other things paled before it. I can't express the sort of draw something like that can have to someone like me. Probably to someone like you too. It did occur to me that I should walk away, that this was something far too immense for me to deal with,

that I was too drunk and too stupid to be able to process what I was experiencing. The thought of leaving hurt. I mean really and truly hurt. I felt something tightened in my chest, and I knew. I knew I was going to have a heart attack and dropped dead right there on the beach if I walked away. I couldn't. I had to move forward. Then I reached out to touch it.

A moment before I rested my palm on it. The whole structure heaved and closed the distance. It was soft and warm, so much like skin, and so unlike anything I've ever put my hand on before. Then, it pulled away, then pushed outward again, like a massive beast taking a breath. The rhythmic pulsing of light slithered across the surface

and curled over my hand, and snaked at my arm, pulling me into it. Somewhere deep down, I wanted to scream, but the whispers hushed me. verbally soothed my mind and then I lost everything to darkness. Now I know you're going to want to know what happened

after that, but it's a fog. I can't exactly tell you when I lost consciousness, or if I even retained it for any length of time after that thing, absorbed me, I guess. It was like someone blowing a candle out. My mind just snuffed.

When I woke up, I was on the ground, regurgitated onto a sandy floor, For a moment, I thought I was still outside, but when I looked up, I could see that rainbow shimmer travelling across the walls of the inside of the structure. It hurt to look at, and the blooming pain behind my eyes made me turn away. The whispers got louder, pressed harder, escalated to singing screams that thrummed through my ears and drove me to my knees.

I covered my ears, tears flooding my face. I won't lie. I'm not ashamed. I bawled like a damn baby. I just wanted it to stop. It felt like it was rushing to something, but I wasn't sure what. The sound, the colours, the rhythmic throming,

it went on and on and on. I tried to crawl away. I don't know where I thought I was going, but movement seemed to be my only option. It was just a big room with a ceiling that peaked out of sight. It really wasn't anywhere for me to go. Eyes shut, I can't. I kept moving forward, hoping to regain some of my ability to think if I just cut one of my senses off.

No sight, no light. I wish I kept my eyes open, else I might have noticed what I was crawling up to. I had been so distracted by the tumultuous attack of my senses that I hadn't noticed a pile in the middle of the room. I would have stayed blind to it if I hadn't reached out and dropped a hand on something that felt like a frail twig. If I pressed any harder, I might have snapped it. Becruitingly, I opened my eyes and peered into the hollow sockets of a corpse. The men, Sully, the four men that had made their way into this thing were here. They lay on the ground as if they tried to distance themselves as far from the walls as they could.

The pulsing light flickered over leathery skin that had been drawn taut over bones, limbs that had shrunken down to sticks, brittle hair that looked like it might have fractured into the dust if I touched it. I think the shock of stumbling across a pack of corpses was enough to loosen the hold of the thing. Then, very slowly, on brittle joints and creaking flesh that had no more substance than old leather, foreheads all turned to me, cracking open their lipless mouths and exiled a plume of something that couldn't possibly have been dust.

Why couldn't it have been? well, because it moved. This cloud of silvery grey powder left their mouths in skin, lifting into the air and danced about me, twisting and twirling, and the voices moved and flowed to match the movement. Somehow, the dust was singing to me. The sand, the stuff, the thing, it was alive. The whole thing, the shimmering structure of rainbow lights,

the dust crawling over those corpses, over my skin, into my eyes and through my hair. It was all alive. What do you do when you're surrounded by something as mobile and as inescapable as water? It was alive and flowing over me and through me, and I didn't want to die. I would have. I still might, but I got lucky. God, I didn't want to die.

It was the storm that saved me. A crashing boomer thunder shattered. through the voices, sent a tremor through the entire world. I felt the sand beneath me shiver, and the dust, the sand, the creatures that made up the structure I was in, that crawled over me, suddenly moved more rapidly. I had begun to collapse, screaming, as the dust filled my mouth, and dried out my eyes. It was dust, and I was dust, and dust is where we come from, and dust is where we return, and how many people have died, and how far as this thing travelled, and was this just a mountain of

corpses that ate more and craved more and wanted more and more and more and more. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'll calm down. The storm. The storm was what brought me back. It's what saved me. The rain hit. The wind must have been whipping the surf into a torrent of waves.

A distant wall began to collapse against itself as the water outside wore away at it. The singing turned to screeching. The tide came in. The whole world was washed. away. I think that's when you found me. After the sun came up, alone on the beach. Please, I'm so dry. Please, may I have a glass of water.