CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "There’s a creature in the woods. Now it’s after me" Creepypasta

Episode Date: December 3, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by CallMeStarr: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/dupl...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►Erik Nilsson: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/leeeJSUGGESTED 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-

Go feed the chickens, Ma said. I bring in some eggs while you're at it. I did as I was told. It was a cold October morning. I went outside to feed the chicks as I do most mornings. It's my job and I don't mind doing it. I love the chicks, especially Birdman, the big grumpy rooster, who serves not only as my pet, but also as my alarm clock.

He didn't wake me up this particular morning, which was odd. Me and Ma live in the middle of nowhere, so when something out of the ordinary happens, it usually means trouble. Then, I saw the blood. The chicken coop, which my father built two summers ago, just before Ma kicked him out, seemed unprovoked. That said, a pool of thick, crimson-colored blood lay at the foot of the entrance. Also at the entrance was my beloved birdman, decapitated. I cried briefly. Then I ran inside and told Ma, who became angry with me, like it was my fault or something.

He must have left it open last night, she snapped. How many times do I have to tell you to lock that damn door at night? I scratched my head. I knew I hadn't left it unlocked. No way. I may be 13, but I ain't stupid. N'uh, I said in a pouty voice shaking my head. I still couldn't rid my mind of poor old birdman,

lying headless at the foot of the coop, caked in his own blood. Ma cut her hand in a threatening gesture. She pursed her lips, as she does, and scowled at me. Ma ain't cruel, per se, but she's no merry poppins either, if you catch my drift. But, Birdman, I continued to pout. Ma rolled her eyes, then hurried outside to look for herself. When she came back in, she was furious. Go outside and clean him up, Ma ordered.

I was about to complain when she threw a long, wooden spoon at me, missing me by an inch. Do as I say, Alexander, now. I did as I was told. Ma only calls me Alexander when she's really upset. With my chin to my chest, I lumbered across a long, narrow backyard, heading to all the coop. My heart was thumping like a jackrabbit. My mouth is dry as toast. I'm not as tough as Parr, not even close.

He ain't scared of nothing. Too bad he went away. The steady stream of tears was sliding down my cold pink cheeks. The last thing I wanted to do was see Birdman like that. Poor old Birdman. I remember the day Parr brought him home. The rooster was so proud and cocky and brightly feathered. Parr even let me name him.

Standing at the entrance, shovel in hand, I scooped the ravaged rooster. up off the bile-colored grass and salty wood chips. It was unsettling to say the least. Birdman's beady little eyes remained open, watching me during the entire process. I shoveled the mutilated rooster into a large, green garbage bag. Then I dragged across the crisp, coffee-colored leaves,

blanketing the forest floor, which runs along the edge of our property. I was crying the entire time. The thought came to mind. whoever or whatever did this to Birdman might be watching me right now. I froze. If I were to be eaten by some creature out in the woods, who would find my body? I brushed aside my disparaging thoughts and continued to crunch along the rim of the forest, stopping at a small clearing. I buried my rooster.

The ground was frigid and uncooperative, but I managed as best as I could. Afterward, I was as hungry as a bear. I hit three plays of pasta and still felt pickish. Baring my dead animal is hard work, let me tell you. I couldn't fall asleep that night. I wondered who or what could have done that to my beloved birdman. There were no tracks leading to or from the coop, no sign of a breaking or tampering.

Nothing. Could have been a neighbour's dog, I thought, except the floor of the coop was raised, so tunnelling wasn't an option. Plus, I couldn't imagine how a mangy mutt could have penetrated the lock. None of this made sense. Finally, after tossing and turning for hours,

I slept. Then, it happened again. I woke up late the following morning, as two days in a row, a miracle. As I hurried outside the feeder flock, I noticed something peculiar. At first, I hoped it was just my imagination. Then, as I inch closer toward the fall.

old chicken coop, I stopped dead in my tracks. The animals inside the coop had been slaughtered, each and every one. Fresh gloves of blood and gore stained the surrounding mesh, turning it a deep crimson red. The entrance, however, remained locked and intact. I fell to my knees and puked. I couldn't help myself. That's impossible, Mara bellowed when I told her.

Her eyes were full of accusation. She pushed past me and ran outside, still in a nightgown to have a look. She brought a shotgun. I ran into my bedroom and watched from the safety of my window. I didn't exactly trust that look in Ma's eyes, nor did I trust the ensemble of carcasses scattered across the coop. Mars availed her entire property before re-entering our cozy country home. I was ordered to dispose of the dead chickens straight away. My protests proved impotent.

I cursed her as I fetched my shovel yet again, unhappy to waste this glorious Sunday morning burying birds. As I marched closer to the coop, the feeling of being watched stole over me. Cautiously, I glanced over my left shoulder, looking deep into the looming forest. Was an unknown assailant lurking in the woods, watching me, waiting for the appropriate time to attack?

It was impossible. This put a jump in my side. step. One thing was certain. I didn't want to end up like poor old birdman. There were 11 chickens in the flock, all dismembered. Some were decapitated, but many had been strangled. Their tiny, tortured tongues lay leaking in their broken yellow beaks. One cheek had both his legs ripped off, his plumage stained with its own blood and feces. It was gruesome. Nothing could have prepared me for such foul wretchedness. I was totally. repulsed.

Digging their grave was a daunting task, and not without its pitfalls, but I did it anyway. It took all day. At one point a chicken flew off my shovel and rolled away. Could this day get any worse? I hoped not.

I prayed for Parr to return home. Surely, Parr would know a more efficient way to dispose of these corpses. I mean, there must be a better way than this. I was cold and tired and miserable. Worse, I was scared half to death, and I knew Mar was too. I slept poorly all week. My mind was in overdrive.

What kind of monster would harm those innocent chicks? Someone or something must have penetrated the lock on the coop. But how? More to the point, after mutilating our entire flock, they must have locked and closed the door, then split, leaving no footprints, tracks, nor evidence whatsoever behind. It was as if a ghost had murdered our flock. Slowly, things began to return to normal, as they do in real life.

Ma brought home more chicks, and this time she set up an electric fence around the pen to ward off any predators. That ought to do it, she said. I hoped she was right. This time, I refused to become friends with the animals. I didn't want to be heartbroken yet again, except I did end up befriending our new rooster. I couldn't help myself. He was an amazing bird. I named him Alister, but shortened it to Alice.

One morning, Alice didn't wake me up. Instead, I was awakened by Ma's persistent squawking. Something was up, and it probably wasn't good. Ma was on the phone with the police. She was completely out of her mind, talking in circles, screaming bloody murder. I went outside to check things out. The coop was intact and seemingly not tampered with. The flock, however, was murdered.

Blood and bone and beaks and brain galore. It was a sad sight. What did these animals do to deserve this? I was outraged. I wanted to get to the bottom of this, and fast. So I called Taylor, my BFF for help. Taylor arrived full of spirit. To her, this was fun.

She grabbed my hand and led me deep into the forest of star. her investigation. She wanted to search for anything unusual. There must be clues, she said in an excited voice. We spent all day playing in the woods. We saw a plethora of birds, a dry of squirrels, a red-bellied snake, and even a white-tailed deer, but nothing out of the ordinary. These woods are home to eastern coyotes, red foxes, and the occasional black bear.

Taylor told me, matter-of-factly. But those creatures only come out at night, and not even. even a brilliant bear, she concluded, is clever enough to infiltrate a chicken coop, not without electric fence and all. We was stunt. Taylor joined us for a hearty dinner, during which she suggested we purchase her surveillance camera. Ma agreed. The next day, Mar went to town to stock up on chickens yet again, but this time she brought home a brand new surveillance camera, which I had the displeasure of trying to set up. By now, I was worried about Maa.

She was coming unglued. When I suggested we asked Pa for help, she got mad at me, so I kept my mouth shut after that. Even the cops were baffled. Our neighbours, and I used the term loosely, seeing how our closest neighbor was a ten-minute bike right away, were put on high alert. This was big news. Everyone in town was talking about it. Then...

It happened again. Our entire flock was dismembered. Random chicken parts and bloodstained feathers were everywhere, but no tracks, nor any sign of disruption as far as I could tell. I ran inside and called Taylor, who was most intrigued. She rushed straight over after school. I stayed home that day to clean up the carnage.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon alone in my room, sulking. I didn't want to bury any more birds. By now there's an animal graveyard in my backyard which is immensely disturbing I've watched Pet Cemetery I know how these stories end up I waited for Taylor to arrive before scrolling through the surveillance video

she swiped a smartphone from my hand and proceeded to scroll through the hours of footage she stopped suddenly with a face full of scorn There it is We both saw the creature I don't know what this thing is She said in a faraway voice but whatever it is, it ain't right.

We watched the same scene over and over. It occurred at 409 in the morning. That's when the creature first appeared on the screen. The creature was covered in thick, matted fur. It looked tall like a bear, except it was skinny like a human. It kind of looked like Bigfoot, without the footprints, of course. But it was impossible for us to get a proper look at it. The thing on screen was blurry, like a mirage.

or something. It almost seemed fake. The first thing it did, I swear to God, was look directly into the camera and wave, but not in a friendly way. More like a, I know you can see me kind of way. Then the creature vanished, only to reappear a moment later inside the coop, where it proceeded to murder the entire flock of chickens one by one, and it did so at an impossible speed.

Wait, hold on a second. Second, Taylor said. We re-watched the grisly scene at half-speed. She shook her head. That's impossible. We watched, transfixed, as the creature savagely ripped and clawed and gutted our poultry. The poor chicks didn't even know what killed them. It happened so fast.

The rooster was killed first. The creature reached down and bit his head clean off. Then, in a series of bone-chilling attacks, it slayed the entire furrow. flock in similar fashion. This took six seconds in total. Afterward, the creature made a series of peculiar gestures, as if performing some sort of ritual. Blood was dripping from its monster-like face, his teeth stained in a superlative shade of red. The creature looked again at the surveillance camera, only this time I could feel it penetrating

my mind. Taylor felt it too. She screamed and ran into the bathroom and locked herself inside. I watched the remainder of the video alone in my bedroom. I wish I hadn't. I watched the creature vanish into thin air, but before doing so, a strange and sickly voice into my head.

I'm coming for you, Alexander. It told me, using the deepest voice I'd ever heard. Then I'm going to murder your mother, and that snot-nosed girlfriend of yours. I ran downstairs to show Ma the video. When I did, there was nothing on the screen but static. But that's impossible, I said, scratching my head.

Ma looked like she wanted to rip my head off and ram it down my throat. I called for Taylor, who was still in the bathroom. She stepped out, wiped the remaining tears from her freckled face, then called home. She left soon thereafter and didn't even say goodbye. Last night, I had a terrible dream. I dreamed I was the creature in the woods, killing those poor, innocent chickens. I felt their souls being plucked from their bodies as I clenched my meaty hands around their necks. I tore them each to shreds and delighted in doing so. I dreamed it was me who snuck into

the house, crept up those long, creaky stairs and wrapped my cold, bare hands around Mar's wrinkled neck. I watched with glee as she let out a final breath. Her eyes bulging from their socket in utter torment. I dreamed it was me who appeared outside Taylor's bedroom door, watching silently as she slept. I woke up in a pool of sweaty sheets, with my dream floating through my mind like a ghost whispering in the wind. My fingernails were crusted with blood. I was dog-tired and famished.

Rarily, I crawled out of bed, found my way downstairs, and ate a hearty breakfast. The house was library quiet. Ma must have slept in. This was highly unusual. I tiptoed to a bedroom door and waited. I was too scared to knock. My bloodsained hands were trembling. My legs ready to buckle and fold at any given moment.

Ma? I said, quietly, as to not disturb her. Ma, you're right. No answer. I tried again. Nothing. Maybe she went into town to gather supposed to. applies. Maybe her and part were having coffee somewhere. That would be nice. But I knew better.

The rooster hadn crow this morning. This was not good news. Ma, I called out one last time. I was afraid to peek inside a bedroom. Some places are off limits, no matter what. Then I remember the surveillance camera. Maybe I should check it just to see. I did and what I saw will forever haunt my dreams The creature returned again late last night Only this time it appeared outside our back door Snarling into the surveillance camera For a split second I saw myself inside the creature's eyes

When I heard it speak my name I dropped my phone and ran inside my bedroom and locked the door I've been hiding in here ever since I know deep down this will only prolong the inevitable but for the moment I'm okay with that I know what comes next I know I'll have to enter

Mars room sooner or later but first I should clean this blood from my fingernails before someone sees it maybe then I'll call Taylor she'll want to come help me yes that would be nice she can help me find the creature in the woods

once and for all Thank you.