CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "There was a man living in our basement when I was a kid, but nobody remembers him" Creepypasta

Episode Date: March 9, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by KinceP1: 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...​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/CreepsMcPasta​CREEPYPASTA 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 festival season is Aangbroken and that betekent mudder. And so, ging Kim to come to comason.com. On the way, on a waterdict tent,

a comfortable luget, oh, so, Knus, and Luipartprint, regalarze. Miao. Now, he has Kim

not for the modder, just like the dancing moderm, there, oh, wait just even,

has he now only modder on? Oh, yeah, only modder. Drove blithe? Goar for. Find what you

need to Oh, young, that I'm in three days. I'm all moor as I'm more on think. Oh, that to seeer that morning off-moot, I'm all mooh as I'm just on there's not on think. Oh, from the night at a paddle tournament at a petal tournoe. Oh, I'm all moose if I're not on thinking. Have you it mollick to come?

Give you yourself then a boost. With biocure maxhot liquid. Three up-puppendant plants. Magnesium, Eiser. An energy booster to immediately again to can clallet. Bio-Cure Macshot Liquid. Fooding Supplement, forcry-maq-by-to-re.

An hour ago, I was talking to my friend Mike and my cousin, Emily. Mike had come from out of town to visit, and we spent the evening catching up. It had been quite a while since our last visit, so the three of us were up late, chatting away and swapping stories. Emily and Mike had bundled up on the couch in the living room of our apartment, while I sat across from them in the squeaky, tired recliner I've hauled from my last three places. We had been talking for so long that the day turned to night, and we hadn't bought it, father turned the lights on, so we now sat in the dim glow of the street lamps below. The three of us, since the day we all met, loved sharing spooky stories and positing the things

we could never manage to explain. It was around 10pm, and Mike had just finished reminding me of the strange things he noticed in my child at home whenever he visited. Strange noises at night, footsteps while everyone was asleep, the usual haunted house stuff. Creepy, yet innocent, and easily explained away. Emily had stayed there for some time a couple years ago before we moved into our first apartment together and attested to the overall bad feeling the house gave off, especially when she was alone.

She actually surprised me by how emotional she was while remembering it all. She's from another country and moved in with me and my family on a visitor's visa, which meant she couldn't work without a permit. Everyone else in the house, however, would be out of the house most of the day working. which left Emily by herself.

She explained to me how isolated and oppressed she'd feel when she was alone there, even though she would normally revel in the time she had to herself. There was something about that old house that made her feel differently. After some time, Emily calmed down and we continued discussing the strange things that went on when she was alone. It seemed to be cathartic for her, albeit a bit distressing to recall everything. She at least knew that she was. She wasn't alone in noticing things. Mike and I would basically guess all the weird things she experienced

since they happened to us too. I grew up with it all, so I casually explained away most of the things that were brought up, or ones that didn't really bother me at all. To add to the discussion, I brought up the man who lived in our basement for a while. Mike and Emily both sat, stone-faced, staring back at me. I could see Mike was a bit shocked,

It looked like his eyes were watering, but it was too dark to tell. Then he quietly spoke up. What are you talking about, Will? I got that it was a weird thing to say, but it didn't feel that weird to me, so I explained myself. Oh, some time after my parents had separated, my dad, sister and I, moved into this old house with his new wife and my three new step-siblings. I was probably about seven at that point.

The main floor and upstairs were in decent shape. but the basement there was all bare, just concrete foundations and plywood. It was the quintessential damp, creepy basement. And because of that, we didn't use it for much, except for laundry. The only decent room fitted with the door was shared by my two older stepsisters next to the bottom of the stairs. The rest of the giant L-shaped space was sectioned out by large doorways and would remain untouched until years later.

But we used it for storage in the meantime. I didn't start going down there until my dad hooked up a computer for me to play games on. It was tucked away in the corner of the larger, open room behind the stairs. It was the only spot with an outlet. The rest of the electricals wouldn't be finished for another few years. I'd spent

hours down there by myself, absorbed in doom and Diablo too, totally forgetting where I was, completely hidden amongst a pile of boxes, junk and workout equipment. It was a bit cold, but it was my space and I would never be bothered by my siblings.

One night after dinner and getting ready for bed, my dad let me go down to the basement to play my games for a while. It was pretty late, but in the summer, I didn't really ever set bedtime. This time was different than normal, though. As I began to descend the stairs into the dark, I heard a familiar sound, like a click, click, click of a computer mouse. I thought it was strange, since nobody used a computer aside from me, but I continued down to see what it was. The basement lights worked, but the last light switch was very out of the way. I'd walked through this basement so many times at this point that I didn't really need to see to get to my computer. I always felt a sense of comfort down there.

I guess that's weird in retrospect. It was a bit darker than usual and I couldn't see anything until I'd rounded the large door frame. It was a bit brighter in there and I saw a familiar glow from between the bookshelf and some stacked totes. My computer was already on. There was a man sitting in my chair. He was dressed in what I remember being a greenish military uniform. He had short, curly brown hair and his skin was quite pale. He was older, but not that old. Maybe a teenager. He didn't notice me at first, but I tried to move around to see his face.

He finally glanced at me without turning his head and quietly said, Hello, Will. Not like a whisper. More like he was worried he'd scare me if he spoke. I couldn't think of a good reason for him to be there, which was sort of creepy, but he didn't strike me as a bad guy. He looked normal,

and the corners of his mouth were upturned into a gentle smile. I asked him about the game he was playing, which I didn't recognize. It looked kind of like Doom, but he was just moving through empty, black and grey hallways. It looked kind of boring. We actually talked about games for quite a while. He seemed familiar with the games I liked, but didn't have much to say. I asked why he was wearing that outfit, and he replied,

I'm on leave from the military. I didn't really know what that meant back then, but he said that my dad was friends with his mom, and they said he could stay for a while. Apparently his mom moved out of town, but wasn't able to tell him, so he didn't know anyone else he could stay with while he was here. I felt bad for him, but I didn't know what else to say. He went quiet after that.

Eventually, I said goodnight, and left him to his computer games. As I reached the bottom of the steps, I heard his soft voice again. I hope we can play games together soon, Will. It gets a bit lonely down here. After I explained myself, I was expecting my friend's faces to relax. But they didn't. Mike and Emily were as tense and unchanging as before. I kept going.

Every once in a while, I would go down into the same. the basement. Sometimes he'd be there and other times I'd be alone. We would talk quite a bit and quite late into the night too. Now that I think about it, I have no idea where he slept. Or if he slept.

Something about the words coming out of my mouth, finally sent a wave of dread through my body. Emily, I moved both her hands in front of her face, covering her mouth and the lower half of a nose. Her eyes are wide. I could see her irises shaking against

the white backdrop. Mike sat there and blinking, looking me in the eyes as if he was about to cry. They said nothing. What was I saying? I don't know where or if he slept. What do I mean I don't know if he slept?

I wrecked my brain and I honestly couldn't come up with an answer. There was no makeshift bed downstairs and no extra space for him to sleep. Why did I never think of this? I can't even remember when he stopped showing up. but I do remember that he did. I could tell they were getting uncomfortable,

and so was I. So I switched it up and began recalling a separate, unrelated memory. I was still quite young, probably seven or eight, and woke up one night to the sound of a deep groaning coming from beneath me. My room at the time was the only one on the main floor. The sound was steady and rhythmic,

but it was loud enough while my head was pressed into the pillow that I couldn't fall back to sleep. I got up and made my way to the landing before the basement stairs. I paused, wondering if I should get my dad, but I felt so heavy and drowsy that I just needed to sleep. So I went downstairs with a light from the main floor

illuminating the wooden steps down into the dark, concrete cellar. The sound was definitely coming from the storage room. I looked at the room where my computer was and couldn't see anything. The sound hadn't stopped, so I moved closer, rounding the corner like normal, until I had to stop. I almost walked into the punching bag in the middle of the room. It was swinging.

I figured the guy that lives in the basement must have been messing with it since it's normally on the ground. I'm not even sure if it had a rope or cord attached to it anymore, but the computer was off and he was nowhere to be seen. I stopped the bag, holding it steady to reduce its momentum. him and making sure it wouldn't make the noise so I could sleep. The man that lived in the basement, he's in this memory too. I didn't remark on it and kept going. As I climbed upstairs, a little disappointed that my friend wasn't there. I heard a sound as I reached the top step.

It sounded like heavy boots and pavement. The sound made me freeze for a moment. I wasn't sure if I imagined it, but my body wouldn't let me turn to look down into the dark. Then I heard a soft voice from further away say Come back, Will, something snapped to me. I don't know why, but I felt like I had woken up from my days. My gut told me to run, so I sprinted down the hall into my room, blocked the door with my dresser, jumped under the covers of my bed, and covered my ears.

Then, the same groaning from before started again, like a weight swinging back and forth on the beams below. I could still feel the vibrations from the cracking beams I don't remember falling asleep After that I didn't feel the same way about the basement I would rarely go down there Even after it was renovated

I wouldn't linger if I was alone As I revealed more about my childhood I could tell from Emily and Mike's reactions That this wasn't normal Hell after saying it out loud I didn't think it was even a little weird anymore It was totally bizarre In fact, I don't know if I ever said this out loud before.

Emily finally said something for the first time since I started reminiscing, still covering her mouth. She asked, Did you ever ask your dad about this? I kept trying to remember, but I honestly don't know if I did. If I did, it was never brought up again. I started feeling uneasy and pulled out my phone. It was almost midnight, but my dad would still be up. My family normally went to bed late.

I sent him a message asking if he remembers the man who lived in our basement. He didn't reply right away, so I texted my stepmom too, then my sister, then my step-sisters. Before I knew it, my knee was shaking with anticipation as I awaited an answer. My chest tightened as the old chair beneath me seemed to creak in a familiar way as I get playing with a paddle that moved the leg rest up and down. The sound made my stomach churn. A few minutes had passed in silence before I got a response. It was one of my stepsisters that had lived in the basement.

What? Who are you talking about? I was about to respond, but my thumbs wouldn't move when I realised I didn't have any other information. I didn't know his name, I never asked. Why didn't I do that? He was always just a man that lived in the basement. But he knew my name. I started to feel sick. as I began getting more replies.

Well, you're okay? Then another... No, I don't. What are you talking about? I was starting to feel dizzy when my dad finally responded. Perfect. If anyone knew what I was talking about,

it would be him. Then I would know I wasn't crazy. Then we could all relax. But his response didn't ease my mind. It made things worse. He said, He didn't remember either. He said, he remembers me mentioning my friend who lived downstairs,

but he always thought it was made believe. I remember it so vividly. I know it wasn't imaginary. He was there. I'm certain he was there. I text my dad again. You seriously don't remember letting the man in army clothes live in our basement? I could see my dad was typing.

He kept starting and stopping. I was beyond desperate for an explanation at this point. I was panicking. Even worse, I could see Mike and Emily were just as anxious for an answer as I was. Then, the message came. Will, I never talked to anyone about staying in our basement. I could imagine his voice trailing off.

He sent another text shortly after, but this one left me even more confused. I haven't told the family, but the previous owner had moved out after she came home one day to find that her son had passed away. I never told anyone because the price of the house was so cheap and we needed the extra space. I figured after some renovations it would be easy to forget. I'm sorry.

I didn't get it. How was this related to what happened? Who was in the basement? My dad answered both of the questions for me before I could even ask. I was curious, so I looked into the property before buying. He was suffering from extreme PTSD. SD after his time in the military. She found him hanging from the ceiling inside the house.

I sent my last message, even though I knew the answer at this point. Where? After a few minutes, he replied. In the basement, behind the stairs.