CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "This is not a healing pool" Creepypasta

Episode Date: September 10, 2020

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Jgrupe: 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►Bjorn Hurri: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/gJ...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-

I live near a healing spring. It's famous around the world. You may have heard of it. Then again, maybe not. It's a well-known tourist trap, about half an hour away from my house by car, so I can go there any time I like. Others have spent their entire life saving up,

dreaming of going there, hoping to heal their terminal illness or broken body after hearing a story in the news or from a website. And it works? Not all the time, of course. But every once in a while, someone steps into the little lake and comes out completely healed. X-rays and catscans, emiris and ultrasounds, they confirm the impossible. The doctors will even tell them, this is a miracle.

The church will be notified and he gets put into writing that a person was supernaturally healed. These types of documented events are extremely rare. Each miracle is closely followed up on and if the healing isn't permanent it is no longer considered a miracle but that's never happened to my knowledge whatever goes on down there under the murky mineral water

it sticks the thing is I've always been suspicious of the world famous healing spring the church is so secretive about it they refuse to allow any scientific experiments to be done on the water or soil there This is despite the fact that everything from cancer to MS to bone degeneration have been cured by the mystery water. They've owned the land for centuries.

I asked permission once to take some scuba gear into the water and try to run some tests and they refused vehemently. Even under supervision, they won't allow any sort of exploration. Security guards patrol the shore and bags are inspected upon entering, so there's no way to stink my equipment in during the day when the place is open. But I thought of another way. I suppose I should explain why I'm so curious, why I don't just trust the priests when they say it was simply God healing the sick with his divine power.

I believe that's possible, mind you, but that's not what's happening here. When I was eight years old, we went to visit the healing spring with my uncle. He had suffered from Parkinson's disease for years and they thought perhaps he could be cured through the divine power of the pool. His entire body was shaking and he had stepped into the water

with tentative, quivering strides. But when he emerged from the pale blue lake he was a different man. As he swam into the deepest part of the water I saw his head go under and his eyes widened in surprise. It looked like someone had grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him

When he came back up, he looked different. He came forth from the beach on sturdy legs, his gates sure and purposeful. I saw him walk right up to my mother and look her dead in the eyes, his face slack and expressionless. I'm fixed, he had said, with a total lack of joy or enthusiasm. Let's get out of this place. As he spoke, I thought to myself, this man is not my uncle anymore. But of course, my mom refused to believe it.

She figured he was the same old Uncle Dan, only healed. I told her that Uncle Dan was in trouble. He was still at the bottom of the lake. This new man, the new Uncle Dan, said not to be silly, that he was standing right there in front of me. But when he spoke, his eyes flashed with something evil and full of hate for me, having spoken. They flickered pale blue for a second, like a second eyelid blinking sideways,

then back to brown. He winked at me and smiled, and I saw his tongue now looked far too big for his mouth. It was bunched up and folded over, crammed into his moor like dinner left overs in a bowl too small to hold them all. His yellow, smoke-stained teeth were now white as snow, and he grinned widely, showing them to me. I tried to tell myself it was just my imagination, but I knew it was true. I was just lying to myself because I was scared. Who am I kidding? I was petrified.

The new Uncle Dan was not a nice man. Whereas my old uncle had sung and joked and danced on his wobbly legs, this man was serious, mean and quick to anger. If I dropped something or took too long to get him in his wobbly. drink. He was always thirsty now. He would turn bright red and scream at me in a deep and terrible voice. Hurry up, you little turd. What the hell is taking your stupid ass so long? He would yell and scream and curse. He never joked anymore. Before that, he always had a joke or two. My mom stopped visiting him after a few months, and then pretty soon they barely spoke.

but she never admitted I had been right. She stubbornly insisted that this doppelganger, this imposter, was still her brother. He had to be. I knew she was wrong, and worse yet, I had a feeling, a very overwhelming inkling that Uncle Dan was still down at the bottom of that lake. It was like he was calling out to me to help from down there. If I could only find his body, I could prove the man wasn't really him, that he had simply stolen my uncle's life.

So, one night, when I was in my early twenties, full of pride and fearfulness, I made my way over to the property. I had all my gear, my flippers, wetsuit, air tank, regulator, hoses, a waterproof camera, flashlight, and everything else I needed. I had been preparing for years to do this. I drove past the gated entrance a little ways and parked at the side of the road in the tall grass I got out of my car and made my way through the forest towards the little lake the night sky was clear and cloudless

the full moon shone up above and it lit my path as I walked through the brush I had to hide once or twice when I saw the flashlight beams of security guards patrolling the area but kept moving again once they had passed by I slipped through the wood as quickly and quietly as I could, making my way towards the healing pool further within the property. The security guards were everywhere, dozens of them.

Why did they need such protection for a little lake, I wondered. It only convinced me further that something sinister was happening there. After a few close calls, once nearly walking right into a guard, only avoiding detection just barely, I reached the water's edge. The surface was still and black, reflecting a mirror image of the stars and moon above. I saw something moving the water, and then it disappeared a second later.

Probably just a fish or a frog, I thought to myself. I put on my equipment, still hiding at the edge of the forest next to the water. After a few moments of gathering my courage, I stepped into the inky black water. It was thick with minerals and difficult to see. I took up my flashlight and turned it on. The visibility was still poor, but slightly better now. I kicked my legs and I was propelled forward into the depths,

my flippers making the work easy. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting to find down there, but I definitely wasn't expecting what I saw next. Those looked like giant figs, I remember thinking to myself. Have you ever eaten a fig? You know when you cut one open and inside are those little tiny alien-looking finger hairs, like cilia and a microscopic cell, but larger, they grouped together like a mouth in the middle?

That's what I saw. There were dozens of them and they dotted the floor of the lake. They opened up like flowers blooming as I approached and at the centre of each large fig mouth was a white bulb the size of a cat. They appeared to be plants growing on the bottom of the lake, but they were massive, over 15 feet tall. I'd never seen anything like them before in my life. They were purple and gold and moved as if they were alive. As I got closer, I saw strange vines as well, coiled like snakes at the base of each plant.

I swam down to look and saw they were moving around like snakes. The white ball at the centre of the plant closest to me moved suddenly. I was far too close to it, I realised too late, my heart pounding with fear. The white round thing rotated downwards and I saw what looked like eyes staring at me from it. I couldn't prime my eyes away, despite my rising terror. I looked closer and realised whose eyes they were. It was Uncle Dan. Only his face was pale and bloated.

His brown eyes were wide and afraid. Just as they looked that day when he went under the water and disappeared, almost 20 years before. His entire body was enveloped by the cilia of the mouth. He looked like he'd been swallowed alive by the disgusting purple fig plant. The little finger hairs moved around his head and wiggled around with sudden activity. They fluttered up and down, and seemed to draw him back in as he struggled. His head wriggled and squirmed,

and I saw he was still fighting to get free. He was alive. Nearly two decades later, he was still alive. I saw his bloated face was covered in fibrous plant material, which made it impossible for him to scream or open his mouth. The plant was feeding him oxygen and nutrients, I realized. He was keeping him alive. But why?

I felt something rapid itself around my ankle, and I looked down with increasing fear. I was pulled down suddenly, and saw a long vine had ensnared my leg like a boa constrictor. Not good, not good at all. I looked and saw it was pulling me in, towards the open mouth of one of the giant purple figs. This one looked younger and slightly smaller. I got the feeling when it got me in its clutches, it would hold you. me in its terrifying mouth forever, just like my uncle Dan, and not only that, but there would suddenly be a new me created, a meaner, thirsty of me. My thoughts raced, and I suddenly

remember my knife. I managed to grab it as the vine dug deeper into my leg. I could feel it squeezing my bones and crushing my body tissues with its powerful grip. I reached down and slashed the vine with my blade, cutting shallow gashes into the tough skin of the thing, Its grip stayed firm and didn't relent. With increase in horror, I realized it was wrapping itself even more tightly around my ankle and squeezing tighter and tighter. I began to feel pins and needles in my foot. I reached down again and this time tried to soar with a blade, running my knife back and

forth quickly and ineffectively as panic began to take hold of me. Fear swelled and grew within me as I saw the monstrous plant was very, very much. very close now. Its early mouth opening and closing, the sillier moving around with anticipation as if the thing were licking its lips with hunger. This one did not have a white bulb at

its centre. He wanted me for that coveted place. I sawed with a knife harder and quicker, my heart beating fast and heavy in my chest. Loud enough, I could hear it in my ears. The pain in my leg was incredible.

The thing felt like it was made of stone. I hacked and dug with a pointed tip of the blade and tried fruitlessly to gain purchase on the writhing tentacle. The knife slipped and skidded painfully into my skin, causing me to wince in sudden sharp pain of another variety. Another vine came up and began to pull up my mask, trying to rip it off my face. I slashed and hacked with the knife and managed to cut off a piece of this thinner vine and it retreated. But several others began to approach me from the depths. This was not going well.

The agony in my ankle and foot grew and grew until it went completely numb as the pins and needle sensation went away to be replaced by a heavy pressure pain. I pictured my foot turning increasingly darker shades of purple. At that moment I was beyond desperate.

The pain in my leg was worse than anything I had ever thought possible and my hacking and soaring at the vine was making no progress. I took a deep breath and began to soar at my own leg rather than the tentacle that had ensnared it, making quick progress on the flesh below the kneecap.

Compared to the vine, my leg made for easy work. The knife cut to the skin and tendons like it was a tough stake. The pain was terrible, but the idea of getting free was better and I continued soaring, biting down on the regulator mouthpiece

and trying desperately to keep breathing. I reached the bone and continued to soar with a serrated part of the blade. I was making tiny bits of progress and starting to become slightly more hopeful when one of the vines pulled off my face mask and another yanked the regulator out of my mouth. I managed to get one last good breath in before my air source was pulled away. I held my breath and swung the knife wildly, trying to scare the tentacles off. then went back to my leg.

I was through the bone. Finally. My hand continued to soar through the other side and I felt a huge weight drop off below me as my dismembered foot fell down into the depths. Kicking with my one remaining leg, I swam up to the surface. The other vines brushed against me as I escaped,

but I managed to get away without any of them managing to grab onto me. I caught up to the surface of the water and took huge, gasping breaths of the fresh air. My leg screamed in agony, and I struggled towards the beach. When I got there, several security guards were waiting for me. I got the impression they had no idea what happened beneath the lake, at the bottom. They were simply hired goons.

The faces regarded me with pity as I coughed up water from my lungs and screamed in pain. You lose your other leg? one of the masked dully Luckily they felt bad for me and dialed 911 before calling their bosses I managed to escape from the place in the back of an ambulance and wound up in a nearby hospital

and the trauma unit there I was there for over three months after multiple surgeries they managed to make a stump that could be fitted for prosthesis the nurses and doctors were amazed giving me encouragement and support as I made my healing journey, as they called it.

I guess I shouldn't laugh. It really was a trip. I worked with prostitists, and occupational therapists, physiotherapists and orthopedic surgeons, rehab specialists, and finally, finally outpatient treatment clinics.

It was at one of my infrequent visits to one of those clinics recently that something happened which prompted me to write this. I was sitting on the steel table in the examination room, trying not to slide off and tumble down to the floor as the disposable paper covering slipped beneath me. The occupational therapist walked in with a student at a side. They regarded me for a moment and looked at their clipboard together as one. Their eyes looked up at me

from the clipboard, two pairs together at the same time. Their eyelids didn't close, but I saw them blink a second set of eyes sideways. Their irises flipped a pale blue for just a second, and they smiled at me. What are you doing here? The occupational therapist asked me. Didn't you hear about the healing spring? It's very close.

We can show you. Her long tongue slipped out of her mouth as she spoke, and she poked it back in. A thick purple and gold vine.