CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "There's Something 'Stuffed' in the Walls" Creepypasta

Starting point is 00:00:01 I work in construction, specifically with a company that focuses on purchasing, refurbishing, and then reselling old buildings. I sort of always expected that I'd eventually come across some messed up things. I mean, everyone's heard the stories. Bodies stashed, stabby squatters, hidden murder dungeons, cult stuff, all sorts of disturbing things. I had long accepted it as simply a reality of the business I'd chosen as my trade. As such, I wasn't particularly surprised when, a couple of weeks ago, my expectations became a reality. Though I definitely wasn't expecting my eventual discovery to be so... Particularly unconventional.

Starting point is 00:00:47 Terrifyingly, unconventional. The building in which said discovery occurred was an abandoned suburban home. Single story with a basement. The neighbourhood was nice enough, not the sort that. had a lot of unoccupied buildings. For whatever reason, this particular home had simply been left vacant. Bit odd, but not particularly uncommon. I had heard rumours from a co-worker that the company had bought the place for pennies on the dollar.

Starting point is 00:01:15 Something about the terrible crime happening there a decade or two ago. I didn't exactly look into it. It wasn't really an uncommon sort of story when it came to properties the company purchased. Certainly wasn't the first, or even the second house, with a chequered, past that I'd worked on myself. One of my co-workers and I were the first two into the building, the only two that were sent out at first.

Starting point is 00:01:39 We were there to do some preliminary inspections, assess damages, and maybe do a bit of light cleaning. Standard stuff. As far as several decade-old abandoned buildings went, this place was rather run-of-the-mill when he came to what state it was in.

Starting point is 00:01:54 Not too bad, but not exactly anything close to good either. Usually, with these sorts of places, we consider it a win if the building hasn't already collapsed in on itself. A lot of the panelling and drywall was beginning to rot, but its foundation and main supports seemed more or less solid. We weren't surprised to find some evidence that some local kids had likely been hanging out in the place. Thankfully, the vandalism and the trash that they left behind was on the low end of the spectrum in regards to the damages I'd seen. A few beer bottles and snack wrappers were strewn about. There was some odd stains here and there that I suspected to be urine.

Starting point is 00:02:34 Plus, some particularly edgy brat had spray painted a bunch of vaguely satanic stuff all over the basement and left some spent candles out. Nothing I haven't seen before, and nothing some patience and a power washer couldn't fix. In general, it was a pretty good assessment. With the way my company operates, they'd still turn a profit, even if they had to bulldoze the place and build a new home on top of it. However, if it all possible, they prefer to preserve as much of the original structure as they can. Vintage does sell for a lot more than new these days.

Starting point is 00:03:09 Things would soon take a turn, though, for me at least. I was in the process of cutting out a section of a particularly rotten stretch of wall when it happened. I was trying to get a read on what we could expect in regards of the state. of the inners of the place, the insulation, the wiring, what sort of pests had moved in, and other such concerns. This would also be when I'd most likely come across some sort of suspect things. In my several years with the company, I never actually come across anything particularly awful, up until this point.

Starting point is 00:03:45 I had no reason to believe that this time would be any different. Even so, my imagination ran wild as I finished cutting out a small square of rotten wall and let the loose bits fell to the floor with a limp flop. Even so, I never imagined I'd find what I did behind that rotten wall. I looked once, looked twice, stared for a moment, leaned in close to peer inside and took a few slow steps back, cut a hole in a different part of the wall,

Starting point is 00:04:15 moved into a different room to cut a hole there, then another room. It was the same everywhere. where there should have been insulation in the walls. Someone had instead shoved in countless teddy bears. They were all of subtly different styles, but all carried the same dirty marks of wear and ageing, that indicated they'd been in the wall for a very long time.

Starting point is 00:04:44 Why would anyone put them there? I mean, they might kind of do something to insulate the house, but such reasoning hardly made sense. It was hardly effective, cost or otherwise, and most certainly a fire hazard. The most obvious answer would be that they were purposely hidden. But why? Were they filled with drugs?

Starting point is 00:05:05 A refrain from reaching out to grab one and check. I'd be better off simply reporting the matter, safer. I went to inform my co-worker, who was out in front of the house on a smoke break about what I'd found. He seemed more or less irritated as he put out his cigarette and tucked the half-finished stick tobacco behind his ear, but followed me inside anyway when I told him there was something he needed to see. Well, what is it? he asked. There, I replied, gesturing towards one of the holes I cut.

Starting point is 00:05:38 Look! My co-worker grumbled a bit as he leaned in to take a look. He then frowned, moving over to another hole to take a look. Hard, he eventually replied. I know right, I replied. Yeah, strange. He paused. Pretty weird for a home like this to have no insulation whatsoever.

Starting point is 00:06:01 But oh well, saves us some trouble, as we probably would have had to replace it anyway. What? I asked, incredulously, as I leaned in to take another look into one of the holes. The teddy bears were gone. All of them. What? Was there something else? My co-worker asked.

Starting point is 00:06:23 No, I replied, pausing for a moment. No, just that. I laid in bed that night, still having yet to put those stuffed animals out to my mind. I was certain of what I'd seen, wasn't I? It wasn't like such an obscenely large number of teddy bears could simply disappear in the space of a minute or two. The only explanation that made any sense was that I'd simply imagine them. Regardless of how many I might have seen, there was still a relief to be found in denial. I leaned up slightly in bed, shifting myself to face the nearby window and pushing the curtains aside.

Starting point is 00:07:04 I like to look at the stars whenever I'm having trouble sleeping. I live on one of the upper floors of my apartment building, which gives me a vantage point that allows me a view of what few stars aren't drowned out by the light pollution. Though sparse, the twinkling lights always helped to calm my mind. My gaze drifted downward to the street below. streetlights illuminating equidistant patches of deserted road. Mostly deserted road? There was a smallish silhouette that I could just barely make out underneath one of the lights.

Starting point is 00:07:38 It was hard to determine much at that distance, but I thought I saw a pair of somewhat chubby arms and legs, as well as a set of distinctly recognisable rounded ears. I yanked the curtain close once more and rolled over in bed, still just seeing things, nothing to worry about. When I woke that morning, I glanced out the window

Starting point is 00:08:00 to find no trace of the silhouette from the night prior. I took some small comfort in that, yet I couldn't shake the slight sense of her knees that lingered in my gut. As I drove back to the property that morning, I listened to a podcast I pulled up on my phone to get my mind off of things.

Starting point is 00:08:19 It was largely successful too. That is, until I happened to glance out of my car window, as I sat idle at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. There was a teddy bear, ragged and worn, sitting on the street corner there at the intersection, basing towards me. I stared at it, blinking a bit, and giving my eyes a quick rub. It was certainly there, unmistakably. Why? Why would it be there?

Starting point is 00:08:50 It couldn't be one of the ones that I'd seen at the house. No matter how similar it might love. to the condition those ones were in, right? Some kid had forgotten it there or something. I made a point to not even look in the thing's general direction. Not until the light turned green and I left the bear long behind. I was distracted at work, as you might expect. Thankfully, there wasn't much of an issue though.

Starting point is 00:09:16 As power-washing spray paint off of the concrete of the unfinished basement was the sort of work I could do absent-mindedly. I dwelled on the issue of the teddy bears for a bit. but soon found my thoughts drawn to the vaguely satanic graffiti. I had to give the kids some credit. Unlike the lopsided and misshaping pentagrams I'd found in other properties, the symbols and the ritual circle, whatever they were was so well made,

Starting point is 00:09:41 one might be led to believe that they were actually authentic. The paint they used seemed to be high quality as well, as the power washer wasn't quite enough to get all of it off. I ducked out of the building and headed over to my truck, intending to make a quick run out of the hardware store to get some paint thinner. I offered the bed of my truck a quick glance, making sure nothing had gone missing since I'd last been out to my vehicle. And there it was.

Starting point is 00:10:09 A teddy bear. The damn thing was nestled in amongst my tools and materials. It was even facing towards me, as if whoever had put it in that specific spot had done so with that intention in mind. It looked much the same as the one I'd seen earlier that day, though there were enough distinctive details to tell me that it wasn't the exact same bear. I was certain that someone had to be messing with me at this point. Angrily, I snatched the bear from the bed in my truck and chucked it across the street.

Starting point is 00:10:40 I then hopped into my vehicle and went about my business, fuming all the while. By the time I got back with the paint thinner, the teddy bear had disappeared from where it left it after tossing it. With nothing to fuel it, my anger cooled to a mild irritation, then to worry, and eventually to a cold sort of apprehension and dread. I could make no real sense of what was going on. Someone was messing with me, and I couldn't pass out any sort of motivation for them doing so. Perhaps there was no motivation, an idea that served only to deepen my concern.

Starting point is 00:11:15 Those who act without any motivation act unpredictably and are presumably capable of almost anything. I was able to finish out the rest of my workday and make my way home to the apartment without incident. I resisted the sense of security that this calm began to lull me into. Perhaps things had come to an end, but I didn't find that likely. All the same, I did allow some tension to ease its way out of my shoulders

Starting point is 00:11:42 once I locked my apartment door behind me. Feeling sufficiently safe, I felt there would be no harm in unwinding a bit. I cracked open a few beers, finished the few beers, and came to the conclusion that the thing to do at that moment in time was to make myself a pot of homemade soup. I gathered up some odds and ends from my fridge and pantry and set myself to prepping. I found making soup to be a calming and even therapeutic activity, as well as a good way to use up leftover vegetables. So I make a point to keep the necessities for making soup in supply. I was in the midst of chopping up some veggies

Starting point is 00:12:19 humming a bit of a tune to myself When it happened I looked up Taking a freshly warm parsnip And laying it down on my cutting board I trimmed off the remnants of the greens And looked back up to toss them into the wastebasket There was a teddy bear

Starting point is 00:12:39 On the counter Right in front of me I nearly jumped two feet in the air My throat seized up And what was once the beginning of a scream Eased this way out of my mouth as a hollow wheeze The damned thing's beady black eyes were fixed in my own Almost mockingly

Starting point is 00:12:57 Maybe it was the alcohol in my system But I was gripped by an irrational anger I hated that bear Without thinking I gripped the damn thing by its neck And slammed it down on the cutting board I lifted my knife aloft It just wouldn't stop staring The knife came down and I stabbed

Starting point is 00:13:15 deeply into its gut. I'm not sure what I was expecting, or if I was even expecting anything to happen. I most definitely wasn't expecting a spurt of hot, viscous liquid directly into my eye. I yelped, wiping up my eye

Starting point is 00:13:34 with my free hand. It came away, red. I looked down at the bear, more dark red, blood, oozed out from around where the knife had stuck out of its belly. It smiled at me. me. And this time, the scream had no trouble working its way out of my throat.

Starting point is 00:13:54 I fell backwards, scrambling away from the counter on my rear end. It was a loud tearing, a flicker of a sudden movement, and the pit batter of small feet running away from me. It took me a few long moments, but eventually I was able to get upright on my shaky feet. The bear was gone. All that was left was the blood, and the knife protruding out of the cutting board. When I got closer though, I realised that there was in fact something else there. A bit of furry hide pinned to the cutting board by the knife. It was a bit too leathery for what one might expect from a teddy bear. A set of little footprints led away from the counter through my apartment and eventually up to one of my windows.

Starting point is 00:14:41 However, the window was closed, locked and unbroken. I'm not entirely convinced it had left. I haven't seen another teddy bear since then, but somehow that just makes everything worse. Sometimes, I swear I hear one of them moving somewhere behind me, but by the time I look around, they're gone. I heard scrambling in the walls on my apartment once. I know for a fact that it wouldn't be the first time this building has had a rat problem.

Starting point is 00:15:14 I've let my landlord know what I heard, and he said he'd take care of it. However, I'm scared that it isn't as simple as just a rat. I've still only seen three or four so far. One of them is heavily wounded, or at least as should be. However, I know for a fact that there are plenty more where that came from. And I'm scared. They may have found a new home.

CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "There's Something 'Stuffed' in the Walls" Creepypasta

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