CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "The stranger said that I could keep the contents of the box if I could describe it" Creepypasta

Episode Date: December 29, 2020

AUTHOR'S SUBREDDIT► https://www.reddit.com/r/Bryceverse/CREEPYPASTA STORY►by WeirdBryceGuy: 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►László Szabados: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/q0XwySUGGESTED 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 was allowed one peek inside the box, and then I had to describe the content with complete accuracy to the man. If I could, without the slightest error, I would be allowed to keep the thing or things inside. The box, he said, would remain with him, and another copy of the item which I could possibly possess as my own would be newly generated by the box itself. The man had approached me almost at a thin air. I hadn't actually seen from where he had come. I'd been walking home from work and had passed through a derelict department complex scheduled to be torn down

but until then tenanted by the homeless A logical assumption about the man's origins would be that he was one such person But his clothes Which rule in great condition Bespoke of a comfortably wealthy life Not one of squalor

He wore a nice coloured grey cardigan Crisply ironed black slacks And shoes that Despite the rain-slashed ground looked freshly polished. His face seemed to belong to someone in their early 60s, and yet he moved with the dexterity and grace more befitting someone my age.

There was a certain showmanship about his gestures, as he first introduced himself, and then gave him this spiel regarding the small black box. Now, ordinarily, I would have thought a well-dressed man prancing about in the rain, offering promises of value within a strange box to be a lunatic, or at least some recently unhinged suburbanite. and while the man's eyes were alive with fiery excitement,

they were also clear, focused, not the glazed, cloudy look you'd normally expect to find in the eyes of a deranged man. For once, I had actually heeded the morning's forecast and had brought with me a thick raincoat. I wore this, and the rain's unyielding sheets felt no colder to me than the building's air conditioning, so I humoured the man and agreed to his proposal.

He paid no attention to the rain, and had presumably dwelt beneath it without issue for some time, considering his sudden interception of me. I nodded to the box, he outstretched it towards me, and propped open the lid. Inside, almost to the small, perfectly square rim, was a sort of semi-liquid substance, or semi-solid composition. It was like a black jelly, and trembled slightly, despite the man's perfectly steady hand. It was translucent And through its murky surface I saw what appeared to be an even blacker gem within

A core or heart suspended amidst the substance Which somehow radiated a light Or emitted something similar to light Despite its totally black form If somehow shadows could be lustrously cast That gem's radiance was just such a phenomenon Just as the lid was clamped back over it The thought came to me

That the jelly surrounding the gem was not itself black but coloured that way by the stygian luster of the gem within it. Well, the man's voice sounded eerily clear, despite the harsh audible fall of rain upon the pavements around us. I felt vaguely unsettled, although I couldn't bring myself to pinpoint why. The feeling had come instantly, upon the introduction of the idea that the gem

could in some way discolour whatever it touched. I have no education in mineralogy, spectroscopy, jewellery, or any subject which might explain the phenomenon occurring within the box, and yet I felt, with a bizarre and rationally unfounded certainty, that the gem was in some way in a mickle, its properties unnatural. Leaving out the last bit regarding my suspicious thoughts, I related my observations to the man, just as I've described them here.

He listened intently, neither commenting nor providing any facial expressions which might foretell of my success or failure. Once I'd finished, he stood erect, He had leaned over intimately close while I spoke, and brushed away some rainwater that had settled on the lid of the box. Then, producing a smile that was both reassuring, to the casual gamer in me, and yet deeply unsettling in some vague way, the man nodded in confirmation of my accuracy. I smiled back, mostly I had a learned habit to do so when one is offered, and he motioned for me to hold out my hand. I removed my left hand from my jacket pocket and kept the right concealed in its own. wrapped around my house keys.

That smile and the man's general behaviour, including his still unexplainable appearance, had triggered an instinctual alarm within my mind, and I was willing, if not adequately prepared, to defend myself. The man brought the box towards my hand, slid the lid back, and waited for me to grasp the gem. For some reason, the involved motions seemed to progress slowly, even though I hadn't hesitated

and the man hadn't drawn the box away. When my fingers finally plunged into that black, or, as I suspected, falsely black, jelly, I felt a sensation of warmth, which, I'll admit, was the opposite of what I expected. The feeling glided up my arm, stopping just on my shoulders. I was somewhat unnerved, but not entirely alarmed, and wrapped my fingers around the gym. It was solid and felt a little brittle, so I gently withdrew it. its slightly liquorescent casing gave easily and did not cling to the gem

Once it had been deprived of its core The liquid's black colour faded to a softer grey And I was given the impression That some inhuman yet undeniably existent life Had been stripped from the substance With the removal of its heart The man still smiling Put the top back on the box

Pockers did it and turned to walk away I asked him what I was supposed to do with it And he called out without turning to face me. Nurture it in darkness, if you have any sense, but don't coddle it. You mustn't depend upon its warmth. And, when it's regrown its placental casing,

showed to someone whose day needs a little blackening. Before I could ask anything else, a great torrent of rain swept through the street, obscuring all sight, except for the towering forms of the streetlights, and when it cleared, the man was nowhere to be seen. Dimly dismayed,

I put the rock in a zip pocket within the interior of my jacket and continued my walk through the occasionally torrential rain. The warmth that it briefly coursed through my arm faded away. I live with my sister, or rather my sister lives with me. And through my income alone, the rent is paid, the groceries are purchased, and the few allowances of entertainment, internet, Netflix, online gaming descriptions are obtained. She can work, but refuses to, typically offering the excuse.

that, because she had a somewhat rough childhood, she is presently unfit to join the workforce until she requires some sort of counselling. When I offered to pay for these sessions, in exchange for the cancellation of one of the aforementioned services, she says it's not immediately necessary, and I counter with the need for employment being necessary, and this goes on and on intermittently, frustratingly, until I eventually have to go to work again. When I arrived home, soaked, and feeling that I had somehow lost something, having despite I literally won an object. My sister was sitting in the kitchen,

watching some video on the phone I bought her several months ago. The phone she had already grown tired of and often begged me to replace with this barely superior successor. I greeted her, and she responded by asking what was for dinner. Not feeling in the mood to start up some debate regarding the delegations of duties, I told her she could have whatever she wanted, if she prepared it herself. Lying, I followed this up with the statement that I had already eaten.

Just so she couldn't nonchalantly ask me to prepare something for her while I cooked for myself. The burden of rain and the immediate related burden of the clothing it soaks can make one feel unexpectedly tired. As I placed my bag on the table and the living room where I set my things, I realized that I wasn't even hungry and just wanted to climb into bed and rest. The day itself hadn't been tiring, but the rain and its accompanying bleak weather made the prospect of any other activity unappealing. I ignored my sister's sour gaze and crossed arms,

embarrassingly childish behaviour for someone on the cusp of 30, and went upstairs. There, I stripped my wet clothing and tossed them into the bathtub to drain, since the dry downstairs was momentarily inoperative, and I hadn't the money to afford getting it fixed. I did remove the gem beforehand and carried it to my room, where I studded it while sitting in my bed. The glow I had discerned earlier

While it had been in the box Was now absent As a heart might cease the beat When it ripped from its chest of origin Thus rendered inert It was fairly unremarkable Like a physically refined Though jagged piece of coal

I put it on my bedside Thinking I had been duped Even though I hadn't offered anything Besides my time And when to sleep The man's words Regarding the gym's dubious ability To produce some sort of growth

I had completely left my mind during the walk home. I suddenly awoke to my sister standing over me, her hands reaching for my throat. I joked away, almost knocking my head on the wall, against which my bed is positioned. She frowned, her hands still poised as if to wrap around my neck. Ripping the sleep from my eyes, I asked what she was doing,

and she said she had come to ask if I'd order a pizza, because there wasn't anything in the kitchen that she'd like to eat. I always keep a mental record of the kitchen stores and knew there were plenty of edible things and even a few decently palpable ingredients to be found amongst our measly supplies. When I explained this to her, she grew angry and her hands twitched

as if she truly meant to throttle me. Then, composing herself in her haughty, petulant way, she turned to leave. But, on the way, her eye caught sight of the gym on my table and, before I could hasten her exit, she reached out and seized the odd rock. Her eyes were alight with a sudden avarice. In a relative poverty, she hadn't been able to afford jewelry,

and I had inflinchingly refused to buy it for her. Knowing that my refusal of this item would result in an intolerable, mind-exhausting debate, I told her she could have it before she even thought to ask. Any other person might have inquired about its origin, properties and purpose, but my sister, only thinking to have and take and indulge, spat out a half-hearted thanks and left the room. Unfortunately, I suffered from the curse of being unable to return to sleep once aroused from it, so I laid awake, mindlessly, only dimly aware of myself and environment.

The rain had continued through my short nap, and seemed even to have intensified in the interim. I was thankful that my interaction with a strange man had been brief, or else I might have been seriously endangered by being out there. Our small house, which I alone had inherited from my parents, but to which my sister had declared herself equally entitled, sat in a perpetually dismal little neighbourhood, outside of a dreary, soul-crushing city.

It rained frequently, but the variance of intensity, direction, time and coverage prevented one from becoming accustomed to it. He was always unexpected, always unwelcome, and always censorily dominating. So, lying there in my state and forced wakefulness, I could do nothing but think about and listen to the contemptible, chaotic rain. But about ten minutes later,

even that thoughtless peace of mind was revoked as a scream erupted from somewhere in the house. I dragged myself out of bed, somehow feeling more tired than I'd been earlier. The scream had obviously. been my sisters, and I suspected that she had tried to cook something for herself, and it hadn't gone well.

But then, another scream came, and I realized she wasn't downstairs, but on the same floor as me, in her room. Terror crept into my heart as I sensed the dyness of that scream. There wasn't some dramatic vocalisation of exasperation or frustration. There'd been panic,

if not actual horror, in an awful cry. I rushed into a room, praying that she left the door unlocked for once, I gripped the knob and threw open the door, but staggered back into the hall upon seeing the scene within. My sister was sitting on the foot of a bed, her hands clawed at a bare chest, and her eyes, full of some indescribable horror, stared down at the spot where her fingers were violently digging into the skin. Blood ran down her fingers and dripped onto a lap, but she paid no attention to it, and, embedded within the center of her chest, was the black rock.

I tied a string to it and put it round my neck just to see what it might look like as a necklace And it just sank Sank into my skin Oh please help me I can't get it out I can't get it out I can't get it out

The nails tore at a chest And bits of flesh went flying Blood flicked every nearby surface And her eyes grew maniacally wide And inspiring a black horror within me The gem seemed to burrow deeper With every attempt to pry it free understanding at once the correlation between her panic actions and the gem's further absorption

I tried to convince her to stop but she was inconsolable, insensate and continued a frenzic chlorine and shrieking in only a few seconds her bloody cavity had been made in a chest and the area around it had been savagely scraped raw flesh glistening beneath the ivory skin and yet she somehow was not deterred Now using her fingers as pliers, she reached into the gristly cavity and tried to pull the chemphrey, but it only withdrew from the probing fingers, situating itself in an unreachable place.

In a moment of morbid clarity, which, I suspect, precedes death in many situations, my sister looked up at me, grimson eyed and hideously distraught, and said, I think, I think, is dreading my soul from the inside. A light then faded from her eyes, one I hadn't ever noticed throughout her life until he was gone. Her head fell forward, obscuring that newly made orifice. Despite life's departure from the body, the corpse still trembled, as if something inside were moving about, or attempting to animate it with its own volition now that the former occupant had left. I watched a new horror be born, a sight of gruesome obscenity, of profanity against the life,

A black sludge first bubbled from the hole in a chest, making the head lull as it burst forth. Then the sludge spread throughout the body with a sickening rapidity, like the sudden onset and proliferation of some infectious disease. The body then started to violently shake, the limbs flailed and the head bobbed left and right. But the eyes, the rift of life, stared dumbly in whatever direction the head pointed them. In what couldn't have been more than 30 seconds,

my sister's body was completely encased within a semi-solid shell of that horribly familiar black jelly-like substance and only then, when she had been completely armored in the jet black ooze, did the gem resurface, gleaming, despite no light

having fallen onto it. It stuck out from her chest, proudly protruding, glowing with some awful life force. Some impetus of primal courage demanded that I rushed towards its abomination and ripped from its chest that sinister the gem.

and yet my body was immovably frozen in fright. Emotions warred in my mind. I felt compelled to fight to free my sister's corpse of this defiling object, and yet in my sane and civilized life I hadn't ever faced the situation even remotely similar. Before me was something I would have thought unreal. If I hadn't seen it come into existence,

its resistances and abilities were unknown to me. Before I could dispel my horror long enough to make my mind towards some action. The blackened figure rose, animated by the dark power which I now knew had existed within that abysmal gem since it first came into my position.

My sister's body, totally unidentifiable beneath that covering of filth, lumbered towards me, silently, a necromanically driven automata of corrupted flesh. Now, looking back on that horrific night,

I do regret my cowardice, but I hadn't any other option, at least not one, which would have ensured my own safety. Before the slime-coated figure could catch me, I stepped out of the room and slammed the door shut. I then ran into my bathroom, pulled on my still-soaking coat,

and fled downstairs. I heard footsteps overhead, stomping about aimlessly, as if the reanimated corpse was attempting to figure out its next course of action. Apparently, its sludge-covered hands were incapable of gripping the doorknob. Figuring that the rain was a more manageable foe

than the monstrosity upstairs, I opened the front door and plunged into the torrential night, forever leaving behind the thing that had once been my sister. I walked for what might have been 15 minutes before a thought popped into my head that stopped me short and reignited the heart-crushing terror which had almost ebbed away. The man who had given me the gem said upon its removal from the box, the box would generate a new one by itself.

As the rain poured relentlessly, brutally, I shook in place. but not from the fragility of those unceasing droplets, but from the unsettling revelation that out there somewhere the man was skulking about, perhaps even offering at that very moment some unfortunately oblivious person the same deal he had offered me. I decided then to not only forsake my creature haunted home,

but that dismal city as well.