CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "There's a fleshpit in the middle of the desert" Creepypasta

Episode Date: November 13, 2021

AUTHOR'S SUBREDDIT► https://www.reddit.com/r/ManiacSociet...CREEPYPASTA STORY►by TheCrookedBoy: 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►AsimSteckel: https://asimsteckel.cgsociety.org/wzm...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-

Oh, leung, that I'm in three days. I'm all moose if I're on thinking. Oh, that to seeer that morning off must, I'm all mooh as I'm just on thinking. Oh, van Navement, Apparel Tournoe. Oh, I'm all moose if I're not on thinking. Have you it mollick to come? Give you self then a boost

with biocure maxhot liquid. Three opeped plants. Magnesium, Izer. An energy booster to immediately again to can clallon. BioCure Maxshot Liquid. Foodingsupplement, There's so much I can't tell you, which makes it hard for me to begin.

I can't tell you the place other than it's a desert in the US far from any city. I can't tell you my job, other than I'm a soldier. I've been since Marty Malhoun stole my lunch money in the third grade. He went home with a black eye. I went home for a week. I joined up at 18, blew through basic and threw him fatigues for three tours in deserts far from the one I'm stationed at now. I've seen a lot of things.

IEDs take legs and arms and souls. A little girl catch a stray bullet, go down with a head trailing ribbons of brain like gruesome streamers. I've never seen anything. Like the flesh pit. My superiors are probably reading this. I'm sure they'll have it scrobed from the internet long before it's breached the stratosphere.

Not that it matters to me. I'll be dead by the time it's over. I'm going to end myself It's not the answer Suicide never is But I want to be in control of my death You'll understand why soon enough It's growing

Even as I write this now It's injuring its way towards the taxpayers We're supposed to protect But we can't protect them from this Not the flesh pit We don't know what it is Where it came from We don't know how to destroy it

not yet anyway we only know that it grows, that it eats it's a massive sinkhole in the desert crossed a fleshy gaping mouth expanding every day minute, second

it's miles wide now wasn't that big when I first got here it was no bigger than a swimming pool its fleshy walls caving down into a deep sunken cavity that bubbled, shifted moved like melted cheese in a simmering pot Looking at it

May my stomach curl with nausea. But the smell I've known the sense of brain matter blackened by gunpowder I've disembowed guts cooking in the desert pan After an ID Tudor Humve to scrap This

Was worse A damp rotten reek That tunneled up your nose Down your lungs And settled into your chest Nesting there Like a dead thing in the walls of the house A smell that you should

subs all others, lingering even when you've left the flesh bit behind, you'll never smell anything else again. I've been here for five days, got here two days after he's discovered. By then, checkpoints were scattered around its circumference, sandbags, tanks, coils of concertina wire, four men high. Overnight, that was all gone, including the two dozen seasoned grunts stationed around the perimeter. The flesh bit had taken Uncle Sam's sanction guns and assimilated them into its living walls. No one knows how it happened.

They only know that by morning it was the size of a football field. It was going faster than we could blink, ever expanding, eating away at the cracked desert skin, turning it into a shifting layer of flesh. Higher-ups wondered it contained, needed it contained, destroyed, but for it. It was only a matter of time before the media circus fell out of the clown cars and protected this living nightmare to the outside world. That was where I entered stage right, sort of. Like I said, I can't say much more than I already have. They all know who posted this.

But it's not for my safety. It's for yours. The less you know, the better. Which means you shouldn't go post it. looking around for the SEA. That's the supernatural enforcement agency. I'm only telling you for the sake of context. Other than that, you do best to sit on what you already know.

Let the media talking heads do their dirty work. It's their job after all. You might be wondering how I got involved with the SEA. It's simple. I'd seen things overseas. The usual horrors of war. Death, torture, ruin. But I'd seen other things too.

dealt with them in a way that promoted me to an acronym agency after I'd finished my tours. That was how I found myself in the SEA. Not to say I wore a tie in aviators smoked over my eyes. I still wore a uniform, with medals, made me seem important, which I guess is true. I was, after all, the one they brought in when a perfect town, the one that lived on no maps, went up in flames, and when the ocean devoured a seaman on a mission down a ladder, If I do die, which I suspect I will, you'll be hearing more from me.

I have a dead man's switch, one said to release my tales to the ether, because despite the flesh bit being the worst of the horrors, there's other things you deserve to know about, to be prepared for, if nothing else. The siren sounded at midnight. It cracked the darkness in half, a keen and cry that sent 400 armed soldiers flooding out of barracks and into formation. All of them jittering. Someone with nerves, others fear.

With the knowledge that the screaming siren meant one thing. The flesh pit was here. The impressive maze of mobile buildings, tents and watchtowers that comprise base camp alpha and sat behind a chain-link fence three miles south of the flesh pit was a life of activity. CPOs screamed orders to their men. Magazines were pumped into rifles. A wall of guns fell into place along the chained and fence, sited out under the desert beyond.

Or, what used to be the desert? I wasn't there to give orders, but if I was, I would have called a full-scale retreat. What else could we do? As I took my place atop the foremost watchtower, anchored guns on either side of me, their belt magazines cold up like steam bunk, snakes. I saw. The desert

was gone. In its place stood a sunken, shifting concave that radiated terrible heat and piped that awful, fetid reek. The flesh pit had melted away the desert sands. The flesh pit was all I saw to the horizon and back. Flood lights clicked on along the fence, planting bars of cold brightness out across the 50 feet desert, separating us from death. The flesh pit

had gotten deeper. I could tell by the way darkness spilled out of its center, like it had punctured Mother Earth's heart and blood that looked like a shadow was fountening out as she died. Should I call this in? I hesitated, took a beat. My thought solidified before they formed. Up until now, I'd merely dealt with the aftermath of disaster,

not the catalyst of it. It made it hard to think. It made it hard to... An arm shot up over the rim of the flesh pit, grasping for purchase. It pulled out a body, one of which looked like a man, and moved like a man who'd forgotten how to walk. They found its footing on flat ground, took an uneven step, then another, another, staggering forward like a zombie in an old black and white picture.

As soldiers called it out, I watched it slowly get the hang of movement, its footing becoming more certain, powerful, like its atrophied muscles were solidifying with strength. Permission to fire, Oguno beside me called into his headset, finger nuzzling the trigger of his mounted LNG. A guardwood voice came back, and his finger left the trigger with a pang of disappointment.

I watched the thing approached, a lurching silhouette moving just beyond the range of light, quickly nearing the fence line separating us from it, A nearby mounted loudspeaker aimed at the pit came to light with a squeal. Identify yourself, a hollow, angry voice roared out. The vigor continued forward, moving like a marionette in the hands of an unskilled puppeteer.

I squinted. Then it stepped into the light and a bolt of horror slugged me through the centre like a clenched fist. Jesus Christ, the gunner beside me hissed. Jesus! The man who moved. like a broken toy was made of nothing but flesh. Faceless, featureless,

a twisted parody of a human being. One cast in melted, waxing meat, and given life by something alien and awful. A voice filtered through the gunner's headset and his finger found the trigger once more. I plugged my ears as gunfire split the night in two. A spray of bullets cut the fleshman apart. His top half fell forward with a heavy smash.

bubbling out across what remained of the desert ground like liquid meat. But he didn't stop. His bottom half kept moving, picking up pace, breaking into a heavy sprint toward the fence line. As his pale feet, each hairless, nailless, trembled through the puddle of goo, it sucked up into its form like a sponge. His top half re-grew as he took an impossible leaping stride toward the fence. He impacted it with a metal clang and skittered up. more arms sprouting from his form, turning him into a flesh spider

as it cut up through the razor wire. Barb still scraps of bleeding meat from its body, but it didn't stop. It fell over the fence and under the knot of soldiers below, tearing through them as gunfire erupted and chaos fell over base camp alpha. I hand fell my sidearm as I watched the flesh pit. I could feel something brewing deep within it.

It vibrated up through the soles of my feet, shaking my lungs and teeth above them. An army of things filtered up over the rim, flooding out like a chasm of ants fleeing a drowning hive. Hundreds of fleshmen. Flesh things rushed the fence line like an army of meat. Tanks of skin drove up over the lip and fell forward, charging towards us and blowing meaty clubs of liquid goo into the light.

It assimilates and copies, I thought, as my word broke like a vase dropped from six stories. It's John Carpenter's The Thing. Then I fell down the tower stairs and ran like hell. The night was a disco of gunfire and blood. Grenades went off left and right. Sprays of desert pan flew up on fireballs, riding them like geysers of heat. The fence light folded like paper as the army of meat drove through it.

Flesh things, spiders, dogs, men tore through the ranks. vaporizing soldiers, engulfing them in bubbling meat and turning them against mankind. Gunfire rattled to the air as screaming troopers fell back, fell away from the fence line and the expanding flesh bit. I belted down a row of tents, past the young man with a surface pistol tucked up against his mind. He squeezed the trigger and dropped like a sack of flower. His thoughts and feelings sprang out in a gory fountain. I ran towards my digs, ran for all of my digs, ran for all. I was worth, my breath whipsawing, legs pumping and aching and...

Something swept into view ahead of me, and I stumbled to a halt. My heart was beating against the walls of my ribs, beating and desperate to get out. My stomach knotted up as I stared at the thing blocking my egress. It was 15 feet high, a juggernaut of raw muscle, its head like the top of a tank, a massive meat barrel jutting out from a hexagonal slab of flesh. Its thick, grubby hands culled up into meaty fists. Every muscle and its incredible forms strained out, going tense as it redded its artillery to blow me away in a burning gob of flesh.

It's going to turn me into a flesh man, I mused as I stuck my pistol under my chin. Screw that, I had time to think, before I squeezed the trigger. The safety saved me from blowing out my brains, which was good because the instant I fingered the trigger, the tank man erupted in a burning welter of flesh. Hot ribbons of meat exploded pell-mell as a grenade went off by its feet, taking him down in a fiery flash. All at once, the screams and cries and tattoos of gunfire was replaced by a deep ringing, like a bell buried deep within my mind had been struck by a sledgehammer. I watched with mounting horror as the splatter remains of the tank man bubbled and reformed grown into a dozen creatures on either side of me

I found my strength and staggered back desperate to be away from hands grabbed me from behind pulling me off down the alley of tents I looked up a soldier looked back a human one face painted in blood in grime and resolve he said something to me

something I didn't hear over the tin of Tinnitus the grenade had left echoing through my head. What? I cried. He pointed forward as we stumbled along. Just ahead I saw a black beast lift off into the sky. A helicopter. It's mounted machine gun spitting fire at the earth below. There were two others still anchored to the ground beneath it. They rotors whipping up walls of dust as they prepared to lift off, to leave the nightmare behind. The soldier, whose name I never learned, shoved me into the black hawk. My ear is still singing, and now wet with what could only be blood.

He clambered him behind me, shouldering off his m4 carbine as the ground pulled away from us. He socketed the gun to his arm and began firing off tight burst into knots of flesh things, shredding through the ground below. I watched like a person in a movie theatre. My screen, the small sliding door, etched through the belly of the chopper. I watched as desperate men screamed and waved, begging us to return. I watched as they were devoured by flesh things raging through base camp alpha like a plague. I saw crackles of light as guns went off in futile protest of the war against humanity.

Clusters of flames burned bright, sending flocks of sparks floating up into the midnight sky. Men died, bled, screamed. As we drew further away from the earth, I saw. that nearly half of the camp was gone, crumpled down into the sunken, living pit of flesh. I sat that way, with my ears ringing and my head pounding, and watched Basecam Alpha shrink into the distance. Nothing but the flesh pit behind it as far as the eye could see. And I knew, as I know now, that it would never stop growing, eating. It won't stop until it's replace the whole world with an ocean of meat.