CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "We were told not to break quarantine. I think we've upset the locals" Creepypasta

Episode Date: June 9, 2020

Stay safe.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►Mohammad Qureshi: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/K3NWGSUGGESTED 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-

We weren't supposed to leave town. The government orders had been very specific about that. No travel between regions was allowed since the virus death rate had begun to climb again. The world had been struggling to recover as the virus had slowly receded. Life as we knew it had begun to resume as normal, with the addition of masks and social distancing. A vaccine had been fast-tracked and would be out in a year to a year and a half. We all relaxed and let down our guard pretty quickly, thinking you could be a few. the masks in water down hand sanitizer would keep us safe. The economy reopened quicker than

expected against the warnings of infectious disease experts. Those experts quickly proved to be right as the rates of infection suddenly skyrocketed again. As a security guard in a medium slash high security mental health hospital, I was deemed essential, so I'd been continuing my full-time shifts. I patrolled the hospital grounds, responded to Code White's, violent patients, searched for missing patients, code yellows, and documented everything in my trusty notepad. It helped at the end of the day when I wrote my shift summary report to have exact times and details written down to help fill in any blanks in my memory.

I had been working full-time for about two years, so I had managed to accrue a bit of vacation time and by midsummer decided to take a trip up to the family cottage. I'd booked the time off long before, but I'd been debating whether we should go. The hospital wasn't any busier than usual. In fact, they'd been discharging people much more quickly than normal. They were pushing people out to try to reduce the effects of potential outbreak within the hospital. All non-violent patients who could be treated safely on an outpatient basis were given the boot. The halls of many units that had been full of patients just months before were now empty

and very spooky to patrol, especially at night. There were several problems with going to the cottage. First of all, it was illegal. The government still had orders in place, stating no one could leave their designated region without express permission. There were hotspots where the virus was out of control. Our family cottage was five hours away

and well outside our region. We would have to pass through several different jurisdictions, to reach it. We lived in a hot spot. The cottage community was a cold spot. The TV showed maps in red and blue with shades of orange and yellow in between. Red for hot, blue for cold. In the news, they were reporting about small cottage communities becoming tribal and militaristic

about their territory in some places, especially remote blue regions where the virus hadn't yet spread and where hospitals and life-saving supplies like ventilators were scared. lasers were scarce. I had gone up to my cottage every year for my entire life. I knew the people up near our cottage to be friendly and neighbourly, so I wasn't worried. Just the news trying to show the worst of everything, I thought. We resolved that we would only stop when necessary and take all the supplies we needed along with us. There would be no reason to go up to the small town near our cottage where we usually went for groceries, coffee or bait when we were up there. I didn't see any harm in it, and we really needed to get out of the city for a while.

Our apartment was suffocating. There was no green space nearby, and we didn't even have a balcony. The windows were tiny, and we were on the top floor of an ancient and poorly ventilated building. All the heat from the floors below rose up to us as we steamed like dim some in the wooden basket that was our 11th floor apartment. We had gotten up to the cottage without incident, relieved not to have been pulled over by any police since we had no real cover story for our trip

and would have been fined and sent back home. I'd used an app on my phone which showed police locations to avoid roadblocks. Our cottage is off the beaten path to say the least. I had one friend admit to me, half-chokingly, that he thought, just maybe, I was taking him out into the wood. after I brought him up for his first trip

It was late at night by the time we had gotten up there Without the benefit of the text I sent him I'll try to recreate its contents Which were probably slightly less creepy than this Directions after highway are as follows Turn right onto a gravel road from the paved highway Via left continuing past the cemetery Where the roads turn to washboard textured dirt

Turn left after five miles then proceed carefully through the twisting hairpin turns through the dark moonless forest. Turn left onto a laneway of two barely visible dirt tracks through long grass, twisting and turning with not a soul in sight in the pitch black night, up steep hills and back down the other side, left again at the gate of what appears to be a walking path. Do not fret about the water only inches from the ties of the car as you pass through low points with a crickets chirp and bullfrog's bellow.

Finally, with increasing bumpiness drive-forks, forward until you think, this isn't possibly a road anymore, and you'll arrive at a small shack at the end of a drive, with still black water on all sides, a peninsula just narrow enough for a driveway and a cottage with a small deck and fire pit area at the back, where I have spent many happy summers. No running water and only a small marine battery with limited juice for electricity. Kerosene oil lamps flickered in the corners and spiders nesting all around with the odd mouse or two scampering in the shadows. I loved it. The only thing I didn't like about the place was the toilet situation. The outhouse was a problem that my procrastinating

family had been planning and negotiating how to remedy for years. The ramshackle hut, which served as our toilet, had been standing askew at the end of the driveway for decades, and after my grandfather had built it many years before. Snakes and squirrels nested in it, and giant spiders made webs inside the most inconvenient places. I always felt like something was going to bite me from the ancient human waste pit below my exposed ass as I sat and the poorly secured and splintering toilet seat. The worst part was that there was no lighter window, so when you closed the door it was pitch black in there and all you had to see by was the starlight through the wood slats on the sides of the outhouse

and whatever dim an ancient flashlight had been pilfered from the cottage storeroom. We got up there late at night and the mosquitoes were ferocious. I pulled up my hood and dashed in and out of the cottage, bringing in luggage until it was all inside. My wife was already wiping down tables with disinfectant and tidying up. Mouse poop was scattered here and there and everywhere. I took out the broom and began to sweep. Eventually, the place was tidy enough that we could sit down and relax after our long drive.

I opened the cooler and grabbed a beer and Chloe surprised me by doing the same. She doesn't usually drink at all, and I drink pretty rarely, although slightly more at the cottage. The place always had a spooky feeling when you first arrived there at night. We were so isolated there and it was so quiet, especially contrasted with the constant noise of the car on the road and the never-ending noise of the city. I checked my phone for the time, 11.15pm, and saw I had no cell signal. That's strange, I thought.

We'd had pretty good service up there since several years before when they had installed a cell tower close enough to reach us on clear days, and tonight was as clear as they came. We sat on the couch in the tiny old living room and drank our beer. There wasn't much to do up there after dark, especially since we didn't feel like building of fire. Chloe pulled out the laptop, and we watched an old episode of a community while we talked. Weird that there's no signal up here all of a sudden. I guess no Netflix tonight, I said.

I downloaded a bunch of episodes before we left, she said. I breathed this eye for relief. We had brought our auxiliary laptop, and last I checked, it was dangerously low on content. We had been snacking while we talked for a bit, and my always troublesome stomach cited a circle into backflips, signaling an urgent need to hit the bathroom. Hesidently, I made my way outside and began the 50-yard walk to the outhouse. I turned off my flashlight to admire the stars up above and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. The moonless night was beautiful.

The sky above came into focus as my eyes adjusted, and I saw the Milky Way start to appear in all its glory. Billions, trillions of individual stars of varying sizes and shapes stood out against the background of milky white, which featured prominently in the sky. Details you can never see decently from the city. Fireflies lit up intermittently in the distance ahead of me. My stomach gurgled again, and I continued on, reminding myself to be careful not a trip, walking blindly over the uneven ground toward the outhouse. I paused outside the outhouse in the silent darkness of the forest.

In the distance, a coyote howled. I braced myself for what was behind the door and opened the hooklatch. I shown the flashlight inside and walked in, turned around, pulled down my pants and began to sit down.

I looked to my left and screamed. A large family of bats had taken up residence inside the rickety old outhouse and were hanging from the ceiling in the corner. Their eyes glinting red in my flashlight beam. There were dozens of them inside the outhouse with me,

and I suddenly noticed they're sticky, oozing guano, covering every service on that side of the outhouse. They woke up and began to beat their wings and shriek, swooping down at me and all around me, nipping at my face and neck. I jumped out the outhouse, my pants halfway off, and the flashlight still laying inside the nasty guano-covered ledge

beside the old beat-up toilet seat. I crawled away and pulled at my pants to run, zipping them up as I went, blood trickling down my face as I hurried inside. Oh my God, what happened to you? Are you okay? Chloe jumped up and ran over to me when I came inside. I told her what had happened, and she led me over to the couch to sit. She grabbed a fresh bottle of water from nearby and poured it over my tiny bike marks and scratches covering my face and neck.

I decided the only logical course of action was to head to the nearest hospital. I needed a rabies shot and some disinfectant at my wounds immediately. We got into the car and Chloe drove down the nauseating road through the forest to the nearby town,

Bronze Lake, where they had a very small 24-hour medical centre. The fact that we were in the area legally crossed our minds briefly but neither of us chose to bring it up. If the hospital decided to call the police the worst they would do is find us

and send us home, we hoped. When we got to the hospital, it was quiet, dark and empty, save for a few cars in a buzzing red fluorescent cross, which lit up the parking lot. We walked up to the doors and saw a sign hanging there, which instructed us to wash our hands and put on a mask from the dispenser to the right. We did so as a woman appeared unbidden at the glass door.

The woman who answered the door turned out to be the nurse. She looked us up and down from behind a mask and face shield, took our temperatures and begrudgingly let us inside after we explained what had happened and begged her for a rabies shot and some alcohol to clean my wounds. The doctor came in an hour later, clearly annoyed and having been called in during the night. Who do you think your people are anyway?

He asked, frowning as he stabbed me in the ass with a giant needle, a horrible pain running down my leg from my buttocks, causing my knee to buckle. They had seen my ID and didn't appear to be calling the police. But they were ticked off. I could tell that much. You know, you're coming from one of those hot spots, one of the hottest spots in the country,

and you come up here to our community, bring God knows what germs and viruses with you. He trailed off. I couldn't help but feel guilty, but also a bit angry. It's not like we were dirty or something. We had a right to visit our own property, didn't we? To check on.

it and make sure it was okay. I didn't say anything, though. I just nodded my head feebly and apologised, saying we were just checking on a plumbing issue and we'll be heading back the next day. He didn't seem to buy any of what I was saying. Just finished what he was doing and left, leaving his dirty needles and supplies for the nurse to clean up.

She came in looking even angrier than before and told us to get out as she began nosily cleaning up the exam room. We got back in. into our car and I turned it on, backed out to the parking spot and headed back to the cottage. After a few minutes of driving, I looked in the rearview mirror and saw headlights behind us. It was unusual to see anyone on the roads at this hour of night before the pandemic, and since then it had been deserted everywhere. We had barely seen another car on the road even in broad daylight,

so it startled me a bit when a car began to follow us down our winding way back to the car. to the cottage. The gravel road continued on for a while, with houses on both side of the road where locals lived. Handmade signs were posted here and there and lawns, but I couldn't make them out in the darkness. I assumed there were inspirational messages to first responders and healthcare workers as had become the familiar trend. I tried not to worry too much about the car behind us. It was probably just a local on the way home from somewhere.

as we got closer and the car followed us down each turn. I began to get worried. Is that car following us? My wife asked. I'm not sure, I said. Try not to scare her by sounding calmer than I was. I slowed down to a crawl, begging the car to pass me. But it stayed stubbornly behind me,

its headlights now blinking bright as it pulled closer and closer to my bumper. I remembered a tip I heard somewhere. If you think someone is following you, pull over. I told Chloe what I planned to do, and I pulled over to the side of the narrow road, opening my window slightly and waving the car behind us past. The car pulled over behind us.

He just sat there with his headlights on, and for a moment I couldn't tell what was happening behind us. The headlights in my mirror were too bright. The car suddenly pulled away from the side of the road and sped away. I tried to get a good look inside, but couldn't see through the tinted windows of the old yellow Dodge neon that drove past us.

Trying to tell ourselves it had been nothing, just another car on the road, but we were both freaked out to say the least. After waiting for a while, I started driving again. The dust from the car which had been following us still hung in the air as we proceeded onward. We chatted nervously as I drove, trying to talk about something,

anything else, other than what had just happened. I think that doctor had a nerve with that damn needle, I said. Oh no, Chloe said, soothingly. Are you all right? Yeah, I think I'll be okay. It just feels a bit numb all the way down my leg.

Not a good feeling at all. Do you want me to drive? Chloe asked. Nah, I think I'm all right. It's not that bad, I said. In truth, it didn't feel good at all, but I didn't want to stop again, and I definitely didn't want to get out to the safety of the car even for a second. Okay, if you're sure, she looked worried. We finally made it back to the driveway of our place, just two dirt tracks in the grass, barely wide enough for the car.

I hadn't noticed when it happened, but the cloud of dust which was hanging in the air from the yellow dodge had disappeared suddenly, and the air was clear again. The car had pulled into a property along the way somewhere. There were no crossroads in this area of the woods. I turned into the driveway and drove up the long and winding road towards the cottage.

We got inside and locked the doors behind us. I told Chloe I was exhausted and ready for bed and she agreed. We pulled out the futon and made the bed quickly before lying down and tossing and turning restlessly. Neither of us could sleep. despite the late hour, we were both on edge.

The cottage was completely silent, until we heard a noise. Kerr, shh, khr, sh, kher, sh, kush. What is that? Chloe sat down with the darkness. Whatever it was, it sounded familiar. It was a noise I had heard a thousand times before, but what was it? It sounded like it was coming from the front of the cottage. Kursh, kush,

the noise continued on like that for a while, and we were both too afraid to go outside and look. You ever hear a sound late at night when there's no one around and you're home alone and think, that noise sounded like it came from a person, but it couldn't have been. There was no one home and that noise had come from the basement. Those footsteps, that cough,

the silent tapping of an impatient, foot. It was all in your head. It had to be. That was what this noise was like. Finally, I placed the sound, but that didn't make me feel any better. At first, I didn't want to tell Chloe, but I had to get a second opinion. She would tell me that I was crazy, I hoped. Does that noise... Sorry, are you still awake? Of course I'm awake. That noise is freaking me out so much right now. Okay, just tell me if I'm crazy. Does it sound like...

Digging? Like someone is digging with a shovel. She grouts me and sat bolt upright, bringing me with her. That's it! Oh my God, what? Why? Why would anyone be digging outside our cabin right now? We huddled together.

I had no answer for her. We had no weapons, aside from the little pocket knife I brought with me to cut fish in line. I hoped I was wrong about the noise I tried to think what else it could be but came up empty the noise continued on methodically for a long time whatever the whole the person out there was digging

it was large assuming I wasn't wrong about the sound I checked my phone periodically for signal hoping maybe for a bar or two to call 911 no service stayed stubbornly abetted on the top of my screen After an hour or so, the noise finally stopped. We both lay awake, our eyes fixed on the ceiling, unsure of what to do, waiting for the light of morning when the world outside would be a less terrifying place, we hoped. Sleep was out of the question.

I told Chloe I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I was sure of that much. Finally, we began to see dim light outside, and we could hear birds singing mutely through the glass. of the windows. We didn't hear anything for a while, and despite our fear, our exhaustion took over and we both drifted off into a light and dreamless sleep. When I woke up, the scene around me made no sense. I looked up and saw the blue sky behind the tree branches above me. I was at the bottom of a shallow hole and couldn't move. My hands were bound behind my back, the cold

earth was moist against my back. I looked up and saw a face behind a mask and face shield, looking down at me, standing on the ground above the hole I was in. It was a man, and he was mid-sentence, speaking to someone else,

ignoring me as I woke up. Can't let it bother you. They were the ones who ignored the news, or the warnings. We even put up signs in town telling them not to come, that we didn't want them here. What else are we supposed to do?

You saw what happened to? to Becky, you want that to happen to your nan? How many people do we need to lose? I closed my eyes, flinching with surprise, as he poured cold dirt over me. Kurch. I know, I know, but it just doesn't feel right. I mean, it's one thing to kill someone,

but bearing them alive? That's just gruesome, the other voice said, as it scooped up another shovel full of dirt and poured it over me, avoiding looking and my darting. terrified eyes. We went over this at the meeting last Tuesday, Rodney, remember?

The good word says very specifically, no murdering. Doesn't say nothing about burying folks alive now, does it? In fact, if I remember correctly, there was a certain story about a fellow named Jesus. He said Jesus like a foxy southern TV televangelist. Who went and got buried alive and came out three days later, fine and dandy, praise be. I know, I remember the pamphlet, but now that we're doing it. The younger man trailed off.

Just seems a bit wrong, that's all. He said too quietly for the other to hear. I was completely terrified. It's amazing how your mind begins to race and kicks into the survival mode when you know you're going to die. I began thinking hard, grasping for anything that could get me out of this. My mouth was gagged, so I couldn't try to talk my way out of this. My hands and feet were bound tightly with rope.

One thing I had going for me was that I had restrained enough mental patience at my job. I knew that ropes were not as foolproof as they seemed, no matter how tight the knots. So many times I had expertly restrained patients following a code white, coming back five minutes later to check on them and finding them loose and running around the isolation room, banging their hands and heads against the walls and plexiglass windows. None of the nurses were ever upset or blame me, except the young new ones. After a couple years,

we all knew that some patients were Houdini's, and all knots were fallible. I began to move my wrists around, bending the rope and trying to create space. Kerrch, by the time I was completely covered in dirt. I had the rope loose enough that I could, almost pull my thumb through. I couldn't breathe and was struggling not to panic. My

years of swimming classes and lifeguard training as a young man came back to me and I tried to control my breathing. I had the two men packing up their equipment and trudging off. I tried to control myself and wait as long as possible knowing even if they had left they could be watching to make sure we didn't escape. It only took a few minutes to run out of air, so they wouldn't have to wait long to know for sure we were dead. I finally had my hands free My wrists were raw And bleeding from the friction of the ropes in my skin

I could hear clothes Muffled cries through a gag from a shallow grave Right next to mine I waited a few more moments And then could take it no longer I had to get to the fresh air above Who knew how long it would take to dig my way out It was possible I had already waited too long

I began to wiggle my hands out from behind me and tried to dig at the loose soil above me. The grave was shallow, so I knew I didn't have far to dig. The locals had depended too much on their ropes to hold me, but I was a Houdini. I used every last ounce of muscle I had to burrow and push my way up through the loose dirt above me. I pulled my upper body out of the ground until I was partially out, waist deep in soil, before pulling my legs out with a mighty effort. I realized with alarm.

that the soft and muffled noises from the grave next to mine were no longer audible. I scrambled over to the dirt pile next to mine, pulling fresh soil off in great mounds with my blooded hands. A few fingernails had come off and ended up in the pile of dirt, glinting in the sun. After digging like mad for a minute or two, my fingers bumped up against something cold and hard. I looked closely and realised there was a forehead. I continued to dig around her face and managed to un-oombed.

earth her head. She didn't look like she was breathing. I don't really remember the next few minutes that well, except for the sobbing and the weeping, as I hastily pulled more dirt off her body, committing to doing CPR once I had her up and out of the dirt.

I finally got her under the solid ground above the shallow grave and checked her pulse. It was there, beating weakly, but it was there. I looked down at her throat to check her airways. It was occured with dirt. I reached in and pulled out a chunk of earth, which had clumped together and got in lodged in the base of her throat. I cleared the dirt

around her nostrils away and saw she was breathing shallowly. I tried a stern or rubbed a stern or rubbed, a stern or rubbed a check if someone could be brought back to consciousness through pain infliction. I rubbed hard with my knuckle against the bony prominence of her chest. Chloe! I tried not to raise my voice too loud, worried the locals might still be close. She started to come too, moaning with her eyes closed. I shushed her and told her not to make too much noise. They were still close. When Chloe was awake enough, we made her way back over to the cottage. Our shallow graves had been dug at the end of the driveway, beside the the outhouse. Our car was surprisingly still intact and appeared untampered. I couldn't understand

why they hadn't taken it. I checked underneath and all around for booby traps, but didn't see anything. I told Chloe I would start it that she should wait a little ways away in case it was rigged a blow-up or something. I wanted to get the hell out of there. I started the car and waved Chloe to get in. We drove away, leaving our luggage and all of our belongings behind. I only grabbed my wallet and cell phone from inside, dashing in quickly and full of fear that someone was hiding in the cabin. No one was. We made our way through the forest and away from the cabin, moving slowly, looking up ahead carefully at every turn to make sure there was no one waiting for us. Finally, we made it to the hill at the end of the driveway. I drove up the hill

slowly, beads of sweat pouring down my face, terrified of what might be waiting for us once we crested the hill and approached the gate to the cottage. Would they be waiting for us there? As we crested the hill, I saw someone was in fact waiting for us. A man in a mask and face shield stood beside a black Volvo at the end of the driveway. He was waving a little flag. I stopped the car. He waved meekly and pulled up his shirt a bit, exposing his waistline. He spun around with his shirt pulled up like that, as if to say, no weapons, I come in peace. Is that the doctor from the town? Chloe asked. I think it is. He began to walk over slowly with his hands up, waving his little white flag around without much enthusiasm. I decided it was

pointless to reverse and try to get away. There was nowhere to go with a dead in Benintilla behind us and is Volvo blocking the way ahead. I worked with doctors and knew they took an oath not to harm others. I hoped that oath might protect us now.

He stood about six feet away from the passenger side window practicing appropriate social distancing and waited for us to roll down our window to talk to him. Chloe rolled down her window a couple of inches. I knew those two idiots were too dumb to finish a job like that.

The human body is more resilient than people think, you know. Plus, the ground is hard up here, and those two are as lazy as they come. I had a pretty good feeling they wouldn't dig those graves, even close to deep enough, and you two would manage to find a way out. I hope you learned a lesson. You... You knew they were going to burris alive? You didn't stop them?

I couldn't believe what I was hearing from this doctor. He hadn't done the job himself, but he knew what was going on. There's no stopping a mob when they're in a frenzy, son, and that's what you two walked into here. Guess you don't read the news much. Didn't bother to look at what was happening in the area you call your second home, as if there could ever be such a thing. His face was impossible to read behind his mask.

How's your leg feel today, by the way? Sore, numb? We usually don't inject the dorsaluteal anymore. too risky, sciatic nerve right near there that can be seriously damaged. I was pretty tired last night. Guess it slipped to my mind. Was that even a rabies shot you gave me?

He shrugged and didn't say anything. Up ahead, the Volvo moved out of the way. I hadn't noticed the other person in the car before. I stepped on the gas and started to drive away. Y'all don't come back here, you hear? I heard the doctor say in a fake hillbilly accent as we drove off. As we passed the Volvo, I saw the nurse from the night before were sitting behind the wheel. His wife maybe.

We turned on to the road and drove quickly back to the highway, speeding past the locals' houses with boarded up windows. Signs on the lawns were spray painted with various slogans we hadn't been able to make out or even notice on our way in the night before. Outsiders out, no room for tourists, keep Blue Zones Blue. Those were the tamer ones. Then there were a contingent of more radical signs. Revenge for Becky, make them pay. Report outsiders to the Committee for Justice. We made it to the highway without seeing another car on the road.

Our tyres squealed as we pulled down to Highway 7 and sped off west towards home.