CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "There's an online shop of horrors that only opens every 3AM" Creepypasta

Episode Date: September 29, 2020

AUTHOR'S SUBREDDIT► https://www.reddit.com/r/Badfakesmiles/AUTHOR'S TWITTER► https://twitter.com/BFSWritesCREEPYPASTA STORY►by badfakesmiles: 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►JaeHyeon-Lee: https://www.deviantart.com/jaehyeon-l...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-

Train Plus. Betal no more than 5.50 per ride. So, Coop new Train Plus for more $4 per month. On nmbs.b.E. Nightmare boutique. That's such a tacky name. I know, but it's real.

Oh God, is this where you buy human body parts and gore videos? No, you're thinking of the dark web. This is more whimsical. Whimsical, huh? How do you even get in? It's a 10 character combination of numbers and letters. After that, at dot com, easy.

But only at 3 a.m.? Only at 3 o'clock a.m. Ding. This is my floor. Okay, take care. I'll text you the link later. Bye. Was the voice reenactment really that necessary?

Rod burst out laughing. Yep, of course, I replied. Now come on. Would you please give me the combination? All right, all right. But Aaron, you know these are all just office rumors, right? No way this actually works. That was true.

They were all just rumours. Not very convincing ones either. But, if I'm going to be totally honest on why I wanted this, it was simply out of pure curiosity. I just wanted to have a little spooky fun to get my spirits up in time for Halloween. It's because I wanted to. That's it. It wasn't dictated by destiny or orchestrated by malevolent higher beings.

No, I refused to believe that what happened to me was fate. But the longer I ponder, the longer I question, why me? Why did I have to get stuck with this thing? The phone call with Rod ended around 2.45am. On my right hand was the key to eternal happiness, a beer. On the left was the link written down on a piece of napkin. I had 15 minutes to decide if I wanted to go through this potentially terrifying and life-ruining idea. I was about 50-50 about it, mind.

you. A bottle later, and it was a solid 100. I had nothing to lose. My parents hate me for not taking business. My girlfriend left me for trying to pursue voice acting, and my dog got swallowed by a snake last month. So, if there's an event in my life that would truly embody the phrase, screw it, this would be it. So, as instructed, my lights were off and every point of entry inside my house were closed, as to not invite any evil spirits in. Which I would have, I think was just a bunch of ratas, considering why would they even need an open window to get inside? Anyway, I waited for the clock to strike three and bask in the ominous environment I set myself in. I got to say, waiting for a shop full of evil trinkets to open during the devil's hour

was becoming less of a funny display of courage, as seconds slowly trickled away. The link was already typed on the address bar. A few moments later, I realized that I wasn't really that drunk to proceed with it. So, I chickened out. I was, however, drunk enough to mistakenly press the enter key instead of backspace. I looked at the clock and thought, how convenient it was that I accidentally pressed it exactly at 3am. I felt my heart took a dive into my stomach.

My fingers jumped away from the keyboard like I was grounded by a live wire. My body was frozen, conflicted if I should wait for the browser to load the site or simply slam my laptop shut. I wouldn't be telling this story in the first place if the latter happened now, would I? The site was the stuff of nightmares, in which no one should even be allowed to speak. It used comics hands.

I was appalled. It looked like it was a half-assed elementary computer project after the teacher taught HTML 101 once. The background was a tarred picture of a dark wooden board giving it a cabin in the woods kind of vibe. The buttons were bright orange and little bats fly out when you hover it. On the homepage it said,

Nightmare Boutique in Times New Roman. Underneath it was a nifty little welcome blurb. Welcome, children of the night. This is Lady Wimlock's Nightmare Boutique. We offer all sorts of magnificent artifacts and spells of various parent purposes. Puffs and potions, the scare incantations. You can buy anything, no limitations.

So, my child, set your doubts aside, explore these horrors, take a look inside. The go button below the passage was blinking erratically, almost alluringly, hypnotizing. It must be the alcohol, but I don't remember my hand returned back to my mouse pad and move the cursor to click here. The next thing I remember, after reading the blurb, was a long catalogue running down the screen. I scrolled, amused at everything that was listed. The Poppus Page, the knife of Jack the Ripper, Mr Area 51, Nightmare Clause, Faye Nets and Feed Me Seeds. Odd names paired with odd pictures of things I've never really seen before.

Love potions, monster poisons, silver bullets, the wooden stakes. It was a horror weirdo's wet dream. There was a filter at the side where you could set it to spells, potions, artifacts and all that stuff. alphabetical was also an option good job on the developer on that part but of course I went for the most sensible filter there was by price

and at the very top right of the list was Barbara the love doll it cost nine dollars I haven't really been getting any action myself so I might as well but considering the nature of the site which was selling a bloody knife I had a feeling it was completely unsanitary

So I looked at the next item An egg But it wasn't just any egg The name attached to it was Errans At first I was completely in shock But later I remember there was a software now That takes a computer's name

And uses it for maximum creep factor This company was very sneaky and impressive I thought to myself Surely that effort weren't a purchase Also I was psyched to see Rod's reaction When I show him I bought something from the site, which is an overpriced egg, which just further cements the fact that I'm not good at making smart decisions. So, I clicked on the $10 egg and hit buy. I waited for the page where I was able

to put my payment options, but it never loaded. Instead, the site closed. Well, that was just one big bunch of bulk. Knock, knock. I stopped mid-sentence. I've never turned my head that fast before. I got up, fixated at my front door. Who's there? I asked from the safety of my dining room. I got no response. I walked towards the door with legs wobbling like my 90-year-old grandma. I pressed my ears against it, only to hear horses galloping away from my house.

I stepped back in shock, bracing myself before laying my hand on the doorknob. You can do this, Aaron. Come on. I made little hops to shake the fear away. I quickly opened the door, like how one would rip off a pandade. The cold wind swung on my face. Outside, there was no one. But there was something. A large parcel, about three feet high and two feet wide.

On top of the parcel was a sticker. To Aaron Hemingway, from The Nightmare Boutique. What in God's name is happening? I muttered to myself as I frantically went back to the dining room and refreshed my laptop. The site can no longer be accessed. I opened the fridge and consumed a whole picture of water, sharing myself wet in the process. I must be dreaming, I told myself. I went back to the living room and checked on the front door.

My alcohol tolerance must be getting weak, but I swore I saw the box move. I slapped myself in the face, confirming I wasn't asleep. I took a deep breath and marched to the front door and dragged the package inside the house. I grabbed a box gutter to release the packing tape. I took my right hand inside the space between the two flaps of the box and I held the blade on the other. I was ready to shank whatever was inside the box if it decides to pop up. My heart was racing and my face was a waterfall, but I still opened it to see what was inside. It was an egg.

A huge one, bigger than an ostrich egg, but not as big as your typical chair. I tore down the box to make sure I wasn't just mistaken. The egg was on a black stand with an intricate design, one with tentacles almost wrapping the base. I knocked on the egg to make sure it wasn't made of plastic or metal. It was made of an actual shell. I started to chuckle. No, I'm dreaming.

Yeah, I'm definitely dreaming. I walked out the living room and went upstairs, convinced that none of what happened was real. and then when I wake up I'll be spending my Saturday as usual. Now, if you've never experienced waking up in the morning, only to be greeted by a three-foot-tall egg cracked open with its content aside nowhere to be seen, then let me walk you through it.

At first, it was a feeling of disbelief, knowing that everything that happened before you went to bed wasn't just a fever dream. Next, you feel a sense of awe, amusement at the size of the thing. Then you feel kind of worried, thinking whatever came out of there was no chicken. Last is the pure terror of having to look around on where it went, only to hear something growling inside your living room.

I backed up to my kitchen when suddenly, yellow glowing eyes peaked from underneath the couch. I took my eyes off of it for a split second to locate my knife when I heard it scuttle away. Out of panic, I was only able to grab a spatula to fend for myself. It was a blur. sipping across the room, climbing the walls and ceiling. I fell to the floor, praying for some kind of divine intervention to save me

for whatever was running around my house. It was then, it decided to stop under my dining table, allowing me to see the monstrosity much clearer. It was like a baby, if babies came from hell. It had bluish-gray skin, almost leathery, went up close. His bold head was disproportionately bigger than its tiny body. His hands and hind legs Each consisted of three sharp fingers

His eyes were yellow and beady Patterned with a lateral pupil Like ones of a frog The winning feature It had big vertical slits on its face For a mouth Stretching from its forehead Down to its chin

It took a couple steps closer Eyes locked on me Interestingly enough It pulled back the moment it almost went outside The shadow of the table Not a fan of sunlight I told myself I was curled into a ball in the corner of my kitchen, pointing my wobbly and useless spatula at this monster. I waited for it to lunge at me and feast my brains and in it, when the most peculiar of things happened.

His lips, if you want to call it that, slowly opened, separated, revealing layers upon layers of pink flaps. I couldn't help but notice that the sharp teeth were only just starting to protrude out of its gums. Saliva started to drip down from its mouth, and, in a raspy but high-pitched voice, it spoke. Papa. I called him Bulby. Yes, I gave the little turd her name. It was all because of his absurdly bulbous head. I know that keeping it was multiple levels of wrong.

Some people might even think that the first real thing to do in that situation is to upload a video of it online. Be rich for discovering this horrendous monster. the reason I have for not doing so is all thanks to the first word that came out of its disgusting mouth. As I said, I don't really have the most enviable life

and, to be able to hear someone call you Papa like you mean something, kind of has a certain effect if you're placed to my position. I cared for Bobby for quite some time. I didn't really struggle to figure out what it can eat. I just started throwing cheap steak and he devours

the damn thing in seconds. It was awkward at first. but he eventually figured out that he was supposed to throw the ball back and not puncture it with his claws. Eventually, I had to teach certain things only special to him. Apparently, he hates the sunlight, but he doesn't burn like a vampire. I still had to leave for work in the morning, so I made sure to show him places in the house he'll have shade,

like the closet, the bed, the attic, and the basement. It didn't take long before I noticed he was growing exceptionally faster than any living species I know of. Every time it feeds, its limbs grow longer and his body grows larger, slowly matching the size of his once massive head. Having him grow each day was certainly quite a shock. He started out quite cute at first, with very childlike features. But as he grew older, the more I get to remind myself that Bulby isn't just some new creature. It was a creature I got from the shop of horrors.

And he did quite a fantastic job of remind him. reminding me just that. It happened at night. He was living under my roof for about two weeks. I woke up to the sound of shuffling on my wooden floor. I could never get used to the usual bumps in the night with Bulby. I keep forgetting that I was living with a monster. Balby, what was that? I cried out.

I got my flashlight and checked under my bed. No monster. I walked out of my bedroom, only to notice that the attic door was slightly open. My pupils took some time to adjust to the darkness, but eventually it did. Within that crack was Bulby's head, upside down, looking at me with its glowing yellow eyes. Every hair in my body stood up as I hurriedly opened the lights. He retreated in almost the flash, slamming the attic door shut.

My neck was suddenly covered in a cold sweat. Hands were shaking at the sudden sinister atmosphere inside the house. "'Balby?' I timidly cried out his name. I slowly approached the attic door and pulled it down. I thought I finally adjusted to the life of having an adopted monster, but it was like I was back in square one. When I climbed up, the moonlight shining from the attic window was enough to locate Bulby, limbs spread wide, hanging from the ceiling.

What I couldn't see, however, was the crunching noise I was hearing ever since I got there. I foolishly shine my flashlight at Borby With no preparation whatsoever To what I was about to see He was chewing On an arm A severed human arm Not just any arm though

This eyes made it obvious It was of a child Blood was smeared all over his face I was dripping down to the lumps of crimson flesh Scattered on the wooden floor Directly below him was the head of a child one which I recognised despite having a large chunk of his head

bitten off like an apple. It was Oliver, the only son of the Dancans, my neighbour next door. Papa, Bobby spoke in the same raspy voice, but this time deeper and unsettling. It caused them to drop the arm

and flop on the pool of blood, splattering some of my feet and pajamas. He climbed down from the ceiling and approached me, lowering it, head. He was asking for me to pat him. I did so almost immediately, but not for the same reasons why I did it when he was only a child. This time, it was from fear. I had no experience in training a monster to not eat humans. It's simply not as easy as dogs. Every night he hunts and grows.

Every night a new kid in the neighbourhood goes missing, little Sally, little Tim, and even not-so-little Andrew who weighed tons. He still managed to consume like cotton candy. Now, you might judge me on the next set of things I did, but I trust you understand why. For example, accidentally stabbing him with a knife or chopping

some steak. It didn't work, for his skin is as tough as diamonds. Also, I accidentally showered my boy with gasoline and set him on fire. He shrugged it off like a dog after a bath. I have come to terms that Balby is in fact immortal. If he does happen to have a weakness, it wasn't readily available for me to use.

And so I thought, if there's going to be a place where I can get a weapon to end this monster's hunting spree, it would be the same store it spawned in the first place. Yet again, I browsed the nightmare boutique, and believe me, they have lots of suggested items for me to use. Given that I had no full information on what Bulby is or is capable of, I needed something that would surely get rid of him, no matter how you look at it. I couldn't trust poison, I couldn't trust bullets. So, I bought a page from a spellbook, one that would certainly get rid of him once and for all. Unfortunately, it was a spell that required two people, two blood offerings.

Luckily for me, I know the best person to help me with a job. You named your vagina monster after a Pokemon? Rudd shouted from the other line. No, what? So, are you in? I asked him. I don't know, man. Sounds intense, Rod replied.

It was pretty obvious. He was scared and overwhelmed, just by the sound of his voice. The loud footsteps gave away him pacing around his apartment too. I really don't know what to do, Rod. My voice cracked. Kids are dying. I had to mop their guts in my attic for a week now,

and it's just too much for me to handle. My eyes were starting to well. I feel like I don't have anyone to turn to at this point. There was only silence between the phone call after that. Then, Rod let out a deep sigh. You have me, Aaron. Remember that. I didn't have any doubts if the ritual was going to work.

The monster in my attic was enough proof that whatever I get from that accursed sight must hold some value. Rod winced while cutting his hand. Couldn't blame him. They made it look so easy on television. We drew half of the circle where Bulby was going to stand We lit the 13 candles and put it around

And must wait for midnight to come before activating the spell We would have to put out all of the candles when he's in the middle of the circle If all of that sounded crazy I'm with you I should have checked the description before I got this thing I mumbled Yeah not to mention how they somehow managed to charge you from your card Without you ever sharing it to them

Wait, what? I was a little surprised by Rod's answer. Uh, nothing, he nervously smiled. So, where's this monster of yours? Do you really want to meet him? I smiled. Rod simply faked a laugh before swallowing his spit. He was sweating ever since he got inside the house.

I proceeded to turn off the lights, only leaving the warm orange glow of the candles from our living room. Bulby, I shouted out. It was like a nightmare. He first revealed his head, adorned by his wide, glowing yellow eyes. His long limbs then stretched out from the darkness of the second floor. It had an incredible length that it managed to skip the whole set of stairs. Bulby crawled out, with legs on the ceiling and hands on the wall and floor.

He tilted his head, looking at Rod, who was very much a new person to him. Aaron? What's he doing? "'Sh, don't make any sudden movements.' "'Balby approached us, wary of the strange circle and candles in the middle of the room. "'He walked past me, more interested at my friend. "'He crouched down to meet face to face with Rod. "'Aren, what?'

"'He whispered, almost crying. "'Although frozen in fear, he was shaking like a small dog after a cold bath. "'Stay calm,' I told him with figure. But Balby had a few tricks he wanted to show Rod. He started to open his mouth, revealing thousands of his rotten and sharp teeth. Rod let out a blood-curdling scream that would have surely awakened the neighbours. This only got the monster rolled up as he shrieked as well, prepared to attack. I instantly tried to grab its arms in an effort to stop it from crushing my friend's skull.

With its godly strength, he simply flung me to my kitchen, making me crash on my dining table. It was a bit hazy, but I saw Rod making a run for it. He tried to reach the front door, but the monster simply grabbed him and flung him to the staircase. Something came flying off of Rod's pocket and stood its way in front of me. When the smoke from the debris cleared, it became apparent. It was a knife. Give it, Rod struggled to speak. It was probably the adrenaline, but I grabbed the knife and threw it back at him. He stood up holding the knife against his throat.

Dude, you are so dead. Rod grinned and started screaming something. But before he could finish what he was screaming, Bobby grabbed him by the neck and lifting him up. Rod was getting more purple every second. Bulby was not going to prolong it any further. I ran around and tried to stab it with a knife that fell from Rod's hand. Irritated, Bobby slammed Rod to the ground,

making a bone-chilling, cracking noise. He suddenly turned his attention to me. As it backed away slowly to the living room, he grabbed my torso and lifted me up. My lungs felt like it was going to collapse any time soon. It opened its mouth and revealed its sharp teeth once again. Tears rolled down my face as he drew my head closer to his mouth. At that point, I gave up. I was ready for it to devour me.

And suddenly, it stopped. He was sinking. I could feel it as well as we slowly got lower in height. I looked down and saw Rod, a son of a gun, with snapped legs, smiling at us. The candles were all put off, and Rod was blowing the remaining ones to activate the spell. Balby trod me to lift himself out of the black hole below him, but instead it only ate him up even faster. Moments of struggling later, what's left of him was his Bulb's head, although it too would soon be devoured by the hole. Before he could disappear, he let out of him.

the same words in the same raspy voice. Papa, he cried out. Not a lot of things can do it, but hearing it stung quite a bit. When my living floor was back to normal, kinder, I crawled my way back to Rod, seeing his legs all crumbled up. We did it, he told me, almost masked by the sound of police sirens coming from outside. Yeah, you hold on there, buddy. we'll get you to a hospital.

I smiled at him. I entered the hospital room, seeing my pal rod, lying down with his legs drilled with metal and propped up from the bed. I laid the fruits and flowers beside him. Sissy, he chuckled. Say, wasn't that the Jack the Ripper knife from the boutique? I told him, trying to adjust his dextrous, so I can lend my elbows on his bed more comfortably.

Yeah, dude, he coughed. What does it do? Maybe a story for another time, he laughed. What happened to him anyway? Is he dead? Nope, I responded. That son of a gun is practically immortal. I had to be creative.

Creative? How? Well, if you can't kill it, contain it. But I wasn't able to shop for a monster cage. So I did the next best thing. Which is? Send him stranded in the past. He's someone else.

this problem now. Rod paused for a second. Wait, how far in the past? Not sure, pretty far. A playful smile painted across Rod's face. So you mean to say, you sent a Hellspawn who was sensitive to light, heightened closets and under beds, who was an appetite for children back in the past? Uh, I simply chuckled from confusion. Erin Bloody Hemingway. How does it feel? feel to officially be the buggyman's father? We both laughed out loud. Well, I'm not sure.

Although, if the time comes that I do tell this story, at least kids will finally know that his name's Bulby.