CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "To the New Homeowners" Creepypasta

Episode Date: November 11, 2020

To whom this may concern...CREEPYPASTA STORY►by severaltalkingducks: 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►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 don't like to think about the hole at the end of the garden. Growing up, there were very few topics I couldn't breach with my family, but that hole was one of them. It is not an overly large hole, around 1.5 to 2 metres across, not overly deep either, but just darker than it should be. A dangerous trap only to a child, which, as I've experienced, is what makes the hole so dangerous.

No doubt you've noticed it. It has a presence to it. It draws the eye Our family had a lot of rules that we followed without much question normal ones like no sneaking out, no smoking no junk food after 8pm

but we had some weird ones too like never placed the beds facing the windows that looked out into the garden. We were never allowed to play in the yard when supervised or allowed there after dark we had to wear earplugs from six to 12 years old while we slept

but the most important one was than never, ever look into the hole. I was embarrassingly old when I found out that not every household held these rules. I asked both my parents and grandparents who lived with us once and only once about the hole. Why not just cover it up or build a fence around it if they were so concerned? They were quiet for a while, and then my dad glanced out the window and said, Didn't work. The words weren't as nearly as shocking as the fact that they came from him.

my dad handyman extraordinaire who never backed down from a challenge never gave up on anything but he gave up on this why I think that was the first time I began to realise

there was something wrong with that hole it only got worse I'm sure you've heard by now that there's an unusually high number of disappearances around these parts not frequent enough to alarm authorities but if you were to look back through the decades the numbers grow and

comfortably high. Did you read about them? Did any stick out to you? A pair of blue eyes, a face with a joyous grin. My grandfather never called them disappearances, despite the fact that no bodies were ever found. With every announcement, he would share a knowing glance with my grandmother over the morning paper.

Coincidentally, we would receive, with renewed gusto, a stern lecture about keeping away from the hole. I never really believed him, because this seems so implausible. The disappearances had no pattern to them. It didn't discriminate. How could a grown man fall down a barely three-foot deep hole and disappear? Or would possess them to come into a garden?

The hole wasn't visible from the road. I entertained his lectures and avoided the hole mostly due to the ingrained rule rather than genuine belief. Often, I've wondered why our house, why our garden? There was nothing special about us or the land. no hidden mass graves or religious sites. It was just... Earth.

That's all it should have been. Until my cousin came to live with us. My aunt, Carol, and little cousin, Mike, lived near the coast. After a particularly harsh winter, their homes saw so much flood damage that the house was rendered unlivable. My dad and his sister were really close, so naturally they came to live with us. I loved Mike. He was kind and funny Even though he was only eight years old

We were pretty close He had a burning curiosity though That's where the trouble started This was A particularly dark few years for my family I only mention it in the hopes That if any of this starts to sound familiar You'll do what we never did

Leave It started really small I would walk past his room and find him locking towards the window mid-play, as if someone called his name then, standing up against the window, games abandoned. For longer and longer intervals he would just stare.

He would get extremely irritated if there's no adult around to supervise him playing in the yard. I never counted, even though I consider myself an adult. The irritation wouldn't have disdemeaned stirred my family as much if anger hadn't been an unusual emotion for him. But it was. Mike was so calm. Very little ever bothered him. With Mike around, very little bothered anyone. So, when he started scrunching his face with barely controlled anger and smashing his favorite toys against the floor, something began to sink in my stomach. If I had been a little older,

if I had understood, maybe things would be different. He slept less, ate less, During playtime in the yard, he would creep closer towards the hole. Every time he was admonished for getting too close, the more distant he became. All of his hobbies were forgotten. He only talked and thought about that hole. My family acted unbothered, but I could feel the tension in the air. When he started asking questions, I would often hear the five of them talking in hush tones in the kitchen. What was the hole? Why can't he play in it?

He would be oh so careful he promised. Why were they let him play in the hole? Why? Why? Why? Since they wouldn't answer his questions, he came to me. We were playing in his room one morning, despite the fact that I was a little too old for toys. I wanted to cheer him up. Though, honestly, I was unsettled by how much I missed him

and I had to remind myself that he was right here. Wasn't he? Why wouldn't they let me play near the hole? Mike mumbled, half-heartedly, dragging his dragon action figure across the carpet. I opened my mouth to say, I don't know, but held my tongue. This could be my chance to find out what was happening with Mike.

So instead I asked, what made you interested in the hole? I tried to keep my voice as casual as I could and sailed the small plastic car across the air and let it crash on the floor in spectacular fashion, adding an explosion sound effect for good measure. Mike became fidgety, eyeing the slightly-ajad door.

He leaned in close and I was hit with an odd scent coming from him sickly sweet and slightly stale Can I tell you a secret? Caught by the intensity of Mike's gaze I leaned in too Not in along like a conspirator You know I don't like it when people don't answer my questions I'm not stupid but they treat me like a baby

So I waited until mom said good night And then I took out my earplugs His smile looked too wide for his surprise face. It was slightly crooked too, like someone stuck a finger on the edge of his mouth and dragged it an inch too high. Was his smile always a little bit crooked? I swallowed slowly, fighting against the instinctual horror of him having broken a rule. Oh, Mike, did you hear something? Mike jotted his lower lip out, as he usually did when he was considering a careful answer. Yes, and no. And no. I didn't hear a voice really, but I heard something coming from the hole.

It sounded. He rolled his head, left to right, as if he was listening. Inviting. He answered firmly, the word slithered under my skin. Inviting. What did that even mean? What do you want to do in the hole? Mike suddenly shook his head violently.

I don't want to talk about the hole anymore if I talk about it. It makes me want to go, and I can't. His face twisted, and there was a bitterness in those words that worried me. Go? Go where? I made a mistake that day. One, I hope. If any of this sounds familiar to you, you won't make. I left him alone.

See, this process, if you can call it that, is not slow. It doesn't take weeks or months. It's not gradual, evolving to a point where you absolutely. can't deny what's happening. It's swift, and if you don't know what to look for, it'll take you in a flash. So yeah, I left him alone. Stupid, so stupid. Closing the door behind me, I walked as quickly as I could without arousing suspicion from Mike. Aunt Carol was in the basement, bent over a box of old clothes. I didn't know why what Mike had said was important. I just knew it was more than I could understand. When she saw the look in my face, she froze like she knew what I was going

to say before I did. I stumbled over my words, wanting so badly to verbalise why it disturbed me, but came up short. I had barely gotten the word in fighting out of my mouth before she dashed up towards the door. That was the first time I had ever seen an adult show fear. As a kid, family is usually the epitome of safety. Nothing bad can happen when your family is a around. After that morning, I never felt that bubble of safety again. I tried to keep up with Aunt Carol, and she sprinted down the hallway. She was running so fast I thought she'd fly right by the door, but at the last moment, she reached out and grabbed the doorframe, using the momentum to swing herself into Mike's room. The room was just as I had left it. The only difference

being that Mike was no longer in it. Aunt Carol gave a cry of such panic that my body rocked with it. I knew, by the way her body caved in on itself, she could see Mike. I knew by the gentle breeze of my cheek that he had gone out the window. I didn't even know he could reach the window. I wondered if there were scratch marks under the window, like he clawed his way up there, but my eyes wouldn't move from the carpet, from those toys. He always took such good care of his toys, but here they lay as if there were nothing. That wasn't Mike. That wasn't I'm going to Mike. Carol grabbed my hand and dragged me with her out the door.

I don't know why. I think she just needed someone to hold on to. We didn't get to Mike in time. Just as we burst through the patio door, I could see him standing at the edge of the hole. All I kept thinking was, it'll be fine. Worst case, he scrapes his knee falling in that hole. As soon as he jumps, we can pull him right out and put this whole nonsense to rest.

It'll be over. There's nothing wrong with that hole. nothing. His little blue and white sneaker dangled over the hole as he gazed into it. My aunt screamed his name, but he only turned briefly to give us a cheerful grin. And then he dropped over the edge. I watched it all. I watched his feet disappear over the rim, then his knees, then his hips.

One second he was there, and the next, he was just gone. There was no thump of him hitting the floor, no request to help him out. For a moment, it was pure quiet. And then, Aunt Carol screamed. At 12, I'd been to a funeral or two of old and distant relatives. The funerals were quiet and sad, with a sniffle here or there. That's what I thought death was. A quiet sleep, a somber farewell.

I'd never seen grief so fresh, and it changed everything I thought I knew. about the world. It cracked it open in a horrible way. Cracked me open in a horrible way. Mike was gone and he never came back. My family mourned him as if he were dead, but he was the not knowing that hurt the most. I haven't seen my aunt in years. I don't know what the whole is or why it's there or what it does for the people it takes. I only know what I saw. This was to be my burden. But now, it's yours. I can only pray that you will listen.

Don't let your son near that hole. Don't leave him unsupervised in the garden. And if he ever seems to listen to something inviting, do not hesitate to run, because it will not hesitate to take him. I only hope that your son is not curious.