CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "There's Something in the Northern Prodigy Fields" Creepypasta

Episode Date: October 25, 2020

Who wants to go?CREEPYPASTA STORY►by avery-sinclair: 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►Guadalupe Hermoso: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/N5...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-

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Oh, only modder on. Oh yeah, only mudder. Drogoldiv? Goar for. Find what you need you need on Amazon.com. com. When you live in the middle of nowhere,

you have to get used to certain things. When you live in a town like prodigy, that only gets more true. Sometimes, a cow will go missing from a field in the middle of the night. Other times, someone will come across road. kill strung out across the road, from one ditch to another, with pieces missing. Occasionally, when people leave their trucks on the two tracks in the middle of fields during harvest, they would come back to a tip truck or even ruined tires. The town, officially, talked it up to some naughty city kids, or even some of the teenagers

in town, running around and wreaking havoc. Unofficially, we all knew something else was going on, but no one had ever seen it. There's always a story though, especially in prodigy. I guess it was only a matter of time before someone ran into it. The night we first saw the thing in the fields, it started out like any other. I was only 15 at the time, but Oliver was 16 with a full driver's license and everything. I don't know if you know anything about what teenagers in small towns do for fun, but if you do, then you probably know that the number one pastime is to get in a car with your friends and

and cruise until you run out of gas. All we had in prodigy were fields, long, winding dirt roads, so it made sense to put them to use. Most of the time, we would blast music over the stereo, buy some snacks at the gas station, and joke around all night. Sometimes we would drive out past all the houses, way past the feedlot and park somewhere on the side of the road, before climbing up on top of Oliver's truck and looking at the stars. The only difference, is that kids and prodigy are usually a little more aware of where they are and what's around them when they're out in the middle of a field after dark. Prairie kids around here know that, usually, you aren't the only thing out there.

Most of the time it's just a deer or a loose cow or even a coyote. Sometimes it's not. You just learn how to be careful and you usually don't go by yourself. At this time in my life, it was nice to get away sometimes. laying in the bed of Oliver's truck, and looking at the stars, while we blasted classic rock to the open windows, was a preferable way of spending my time. Usually, Jay and Logan would come with us, and the four of us would have a blast out there by ourselves until we absolutely had to go home.

That night, though, it was just me and Oliver as we drove through town. Pastor, still inexplicably scorched, sight of the old church, and coasted along what felt like 100 different dirt roads. Jay was babysitting. Logan had work. Normal stuff. We weren't exactly bothering to keep quiet. The last house we had passed was at least 10 miles back, probably more. We had settled into our routine of playing music through the truck stereo as we got comfortable on the blankets that I had brought in the bed of Oliver's truck, talking and yelling jokes and howling in laughter. His stereo had Bluetooth, so we had to be could listen to his phone without having to climb around a million times to radio station or rotate we did leave the window at the back of his truck open though mostly so we could snake a phone charger through it

we sat in the bed of his truck for nearly an hour before i started to feel weird about something i like to think that in most situations i have pretty good intuition my mom has always described me as a good judge of character. But I'm not sure that's all it is. Maybe I'm just more about what's going on than the average person. Or maybe I'm totally normal and my friends just don't pay attention. Whatever it is, sometimes I get this feeling. Oliver calls it my spidey sense. It's like a little buzzing voice somewhere in the back of my brain that makes me want to look around and make sure nothing is going on. And there that feeling was, creeping at my spine, making it feel like someone's breath was hot on the back of my neck,

and familiar, buzzing alertness, settling in the back of my head. Something's moving, paying attention. Taring my attention away from Oliver, who was deep in the middle of a story about some crazy nightmare he had a few nights previously, I turned my head to survey the dark, endless wheat fields on both sides of the park truck. Most of the time, It alerts me It alerts me But I usually

It never hurts the check The truck's engine was off But the keys were in the ignition And turned so that the lights in the truck were on Illuminating a neat little circle around us And shining dimly a couple feet into the fields on each side of the truck With a gentle wind

It all looked like a vast, waving ocean Separated in the centre by a pale dirt road that disappeared into the inky blackness outside of our little haven of light. I used to love the way tall grass and wheat fields looked when they were blowing in the breeze, uniform waves flowing back and forth. I couldn't see anything of interest on the left side of the road, closest to where Oliver was sitting.

So I turned my head to look over my shoulder at the field on the right side of the road instead. Oliver kept talking, knowing me well enough by now to let me do my thing. It seemed to be the same. thing on that side too, nothing, until something, at the bottom of vision caught my attention. It was a subtle movement, nothing crazy, but it was a big enough break in the smooth waving

pattern of the field that it caught my eye. It wouldn't exactly be uncommon for an animal to have wondered in the middle of a field though, especially not this far away from town, where animals had a bit more free rain. If an animal, like a cow had somehow gotten past this fence and wandered out this far, we would have seen it clearly above the growing wheat. The wheat hadn't grown tall enough yet to obscure anything that big. Anything smaller, like a rabbit or fox, would be able to slip around without us seeing it though.

That's probably why, at first, I wasn't too concerned. Oliver had finally paused this story, leaning a bit closer to me and my side of the truck to try and figure out. I apologised. I was still listening. I just thought I saw it's probably a fox or a raccoon in the field, I said,

even though I couldn't quite find it in me to tear my eyes away from the field. By this point, the waves of movement in the field were uniform again, giving the impression that whatever had been moving had stopped. I don't see anything, Oliver said, staring off into the distance

and squinting his eyes like in my help him see better. I don't either. I just thought I saw something moving around in the field. I shook my head and leaned back, settling down on the blanket again. Probably a raccoon or something. With a sigh and quick shake of my head, I turned back around and faced Oliver. He eyed me for a second, but didn't say anything, and launched right back into his story. Honestly, if we got freaked out every time a rabbit or a deer interrupted us by wandering around in the dark, we would never finish anything. Even though I'd turn my attention back to Oliver, it was half-hearted at best. I couldn't shake the buzzing feeling in the back of my head, and even though I hadn't seen anything

or being given an actual reason to be scared, it was starting to make me anxious. I had no reason to believe it was anything but an animal, but the fact that I hadn't seen the animal was bugging me. I was so caught up in my own head that I almost missed the subtle noises. in the field behind me. My eyes shot back to the field, abruptly interrupting Oliver's story. I tried to listen closer, but the music from the stereo was too loud. I waved my hand at Oliver a few times, hoping he might read my mind and get the hint, before I leaned closer to him and was able to grab his arm. Wait, I patted my hand on his arm once or twice,

throwing my brow as I looked from him to the field and back to him again. Turn your music down, pause it or something. Oliver reached her his phone, lying face down and pressed pause. I almost immediately wished that I hadn't asked him to do so. The noise we heard

once the music was off was loud, much louder than I thought, and sent a slow shiver up my spine once I could hear it clearly. I couldn't pinpoint from where in the field it was coming from. It sounded like it was in front of us

and behind us all at once. It was a low, pitiful groaning sound, coupled with a sharp, like someone was moaning through chattering teeth. If it was an animal, it sounded in pain. But something told me, it wasn't an animal. Above all, there was silence. We could hear no bugs, no other animals, nothing else. Oliver, I whispered, swallowing dryly, my hand still on his arm. Please tell me, with my sight, I strain my eyes, in the same spot I had seen the movement

only to have a sharp movement in the ditch at the edge of the road catch my eye. I nearly jumped out of my skin, turning my head to get a look. A tall grass in the ditch right by the side of the road was swaying, maybe a foot away from where the lights

from the truck ended, and then it was on the road. It was too dark that far down the road behind us to truly see what was crawling through the dead, dirt, but if the clumsy, flashing just out of its limbs, flashing just out of the circle of light, were anything to go by, it wasn't a kind of animal I had ever seen. We realised too late as it was pulling itself into the left field and rustling through the wheat

that, whatever that thing was, it was circling us, stalking, hunting. For a moment after it disappeared, the wheat stood still and everything was silent. Oliver and I were frozen. my ears were straining to hear anything, from my own terrified breathing, dreading the sound of low, dry moaning or teeth chattering together. What followed the stillness were a series of dry, clumsy vocalizations, garbled and uncomfortable to hear.

I twisted my finger in the fabric of Oliver's jacket, scared halfway out to my mind. It sounded hollow, like someone, something, was trying to wrap its mouth around words that didn't quite fit. We listened for a second in horror as the noises grew louder and then we realised it was trying to speak. A drawn-out, twisted version of what sounded like Oliver's name called to us from the ditch coupled with a hollow sound of slowly gnashing teeth. It tried again, voice scratchy and pained. Fah, pass, a deep,

A deep, punctuated the deeply wronged at the sentence, and I came to a cold realization. He was listening to us. Not only that, it was mimicking us. Mimicking me? Next to me, Oliver whispered a sharp expletive under a shaky exhale.

Climbed through the window. I whispered through clenched teeth. my breath, I tried to panic. Start the truck. I released his arm, my fingers burning from how hard I had been gripping the fabric of his jacket.

Oliver said nothing, but I was answered with the same sharp, shockingly loud, chittering noise from earlier. Oliver leaned forward onto his knees, reaching out with shaky fingers to grab the open window

at the back of his truck. I thanked whatever God might be listening that Oliver had always been a skinny kid. so we could at least fit through the window. Ollie- stringing the syllables sounding more like a person with every passing second.

The thing in the field groaned and chattered away as Oliver slowly pulled his upper body through the window. Oliver Oliver. Oliver. Oliver. I was too scared to move.

I did. I didn't want to try climbing in through the window for fear of the section of the I'd last seen the movement, and I was absolutely not about to get out of the bed and tried to go around to get in the passenger seat. I wasn't moving or taking my eyes off of the field until we were off this godforsaken road. Oliver, please, tell me you can hear that. I stared into the dark as a pitchy, dry version of my own voice bounced back at me. had practised my words until it could stringed.

The sentence was choppy, stilted, and the emphasis was off. But it sounded like me. Whatever it was started to slowly creep through the wheat that was hiding it so well. I could make out the path it took, following the sideways parting of the wheat, standing out from the rest, which was barely moving now that the breeze had died down. It moved slowly. After the way it skittered across the road, I knew it was intentional. The movement.

The movement, Now, as Oliver pulled his and finally flipped around, getting situated in the front seat as quickly as he could, and watched the subtle movement grow closer to the fence.

If it passed the vents, all that would be in the way of it getting to us was a shallow ditch, and I had a feeling that wouldn't do much to stop it. The sound of the engine starting up nearly made me cry. Oliver wasted no time in stumbling on the ground time in the gas as soon as the engine started up and he could throw it in drive. over the sound of the tire's throwing gravel, I could distinctly hear the sound of

quickly gnashing teeth, and as we peeled out and quickly picked up pace, the thing shot forward through the ditch. As it did, I saw distinct flashes of dirty, peeling, rotting skin, like it was bubbling up and flaking right off its bones. As it reached the ditch and scrambled for the road, I saw its hand. and that was enough for me. Without thinking, I reached through the cab and slammed my hand up, switching them off. I didn't want to see whatever was going to come crawling out of that field. It only half worked. As we spayed away, I could see the vague shape of it behind us on the road, racing to catch us.

It seemed much bigger than I thought, and if we hadn't been in a truck, we never would have been able to outrun it. Its movement seemed clumsy, but it didn't seem to have any trouble running around after us. Eventually, our speed outmatched it and it fell behind with a series of growling moments. As soon as I couldn't see it anymore, I felt safe enough to climb back into the cab of the truck through the window. I wasn't going to ask Oliver to stop or pull over so I could climb into the seat regularly. Neither of us said anything as we turned the corner and took the fastest way back to town that we could. I stared at the dashboard, the image of the mangled, rotting hand with cut up, bleeding fingers reaching through the grass burned into my mind. There were a few stories floating

around town for the next week. Apparently, along the road where we had been parked, something had ripped the entire section of fence out of the ground, snapping the wires and breaking the woodposts. The whole area of wheat and grass was destroyed, trampled into the earth. I don't like thinking about what could have happened, or what could have happened to Oliver, if they'd been alone when that thing starts mimicking voices. And I prefer not to think about the fact that it had been hunting us, probably the whole time we'd been parked on that road,

we avoid that area now. I wonder sometimes if that thing is still mad, that its prey got away.