CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "What happens when it catches me" Creepypasta

Episode Date: June 16, 2021

GET THE AUTHOR'S LATEST BOOK HERE► https://www.amazon.com/Ghost-Tree-Bra...CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Brandon Faircloth: 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►artofolly: https://www.instagram.com/p/CGhCWmZhmWy/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-

It shows you another world, I think. That was the first thing Barry said to me when he produced the battered camcorder. He'd been sending me cryptic texts for days about a camera he'd found in the lot of his office park. At first, he'd just sounded excited that the weird find had broken up the monotony of his workday. But then he got it home and began fiddling with it,

finding an old adapter cord that he figured wouldn't work or would fry the thing. But, for a wonder, it did neither. A green light had come on, and two hours later, it seemed to be fully charged. Sitting in my apartment, he handed me the camera gently, my eyes going between it and his face as I tried to judge if he was joking. I felt my stomach began to twist when I saw he wasn't. My worry must have shown on my face.

He frowned at me slightly and started shaking his head. I know what you're thinking, but I'm not crazy. He led out a short, bitter laugh Or I'm not any more crazy than I was before Barry threw his eyebrows at my silence And I'm taking my meds And I haven't had any paranoid thoughts or anything else odd He gestured toward the camera

Just This thing I smiled at him and nodded Trying to keep my expression in check Something was off It had to be if he'd be if he believed what he was saying. But I'd never seen him this amped up

since the first time I met him five years earlier. He hadn't been hospitalized since he was a teenager and there'd only been one time since I'd known him that he'd had what I considered an episode. One terrible week where he seemed like a different person because he'd gone off his meds, quote, just to see how it went.

It hadn't went well and once I finally convinced him to start back to taking them he'd realize that for himself. But this, this was different. He was excited and nervous, but he didn't seem out of control. Maybe the meds just needed adjusting this time. I don't know.

But I figured the best thing was to just hear him out and go from there. Okay, I believe you. Just, what do you mean it shows you another world? Barry's face was still guarded, but brightened slightly at my question. Okay, okay, so, like, the first thing I noticed is it's weird, right? I mean, I'm not an expert with cameras, but this one is a little different from any I've seen, the way it's shaped and how small it is for one thing, but also I can't figure out how it stores video.

There's no slot for a tape or disc or anything. I turned a small camera in my hand. It was made of some kind of smooth, grey metal, but was still very light. fitting comfortably in my palm. There was a padded leather strap where your hand would go while shooting and a small hole that I guessed was the port for plugging in a power adapter.

But otherwise, it was just a small ergonomic tube with a lens on one end and a viewfinder on the other. I glanced back up at him with a shrug. Well, I mean, that's not that weird, right? I don't know how old it is, but if it was made in the last few years, it probably uses internal memory.

Like a phone, right? Damn, I'm kind of surprised people even make camcorders anymore. Doesn't everyone use a phone or a tablet now? He nodded. Yeah, most do. At least until you get into the high-end stuff like they use to shoot professional videos. And I figure it has to have internal memory. But wouldn't have a USB port or something to download it as something else?

A hard drive or a computer or whatever. I can't find any hidden ports. Nothing but where I charged it up. I examined the camera closer. He was right. The cool skin of the thing was seamless, and I saw no lines or latches, no labels or... Hey, this is weird too. There's no writing on it.

Like none. No brand, no Wi-Fi logo, no button names, nothing. He was smiling again now. I caught that too. It was almost like it was homemade. But who would do that? How many people could do that? And if you were somehow able to make something like this,

would you just leave it in a random parking lot somewhere? I frowned. I don't know. Maybe you download video wirelessly. But how do you even turn it on or do anything with it? It doesn't have any buttons. Barry's smile widened. It does.

They're just hidden. Here, hold it like you're going to take a video or look through the viewfinder. I did, as he asked. I'm slipping my finger under the brown leather strap on the side. Okay, you feel the little bumps under your fingers? I flinch a little as I realized I did. Turning the camera over, I looked at where my fingertips have been. There was no sign of raised domes there, but I'd felt them.

When I slid my fingers back over the area, I could still feel the same bumps, though I still couldn't see them when I checked again. lips thinning, I glanced up as he continued on. The index finger is fast forward, the ring finger is rewind, and the middle finger is play. He shook his head slightly. There isn't a power button, so far as I can tell. It's always on in some kind of sleep mode that stops when you pick it up. It has to have some kind of sensor because the viewfinder doesn't light up until you put your eye up to it.

Either way, I haven't charged it in four days. and there's no sign of it giving out or anything. Something occurred to me. What about a record button? Barry shook his head. Nope, not that I can find. I even tried voice commands, but nothing. It just always records.

Always. That's another thing that's weird. It seems to always record the same amount of footage, constantly deleting a second for every second it adds. I've timed it. It's just over 37. minutes worth. I let out a slow breath. Okay, so you were saying this weird camera is always on, always recording, and it keeps the last 37 minutes all the time. Like, you can rewind and watch it,

and it changes over time. He nodded. Yep, there's no flip-out screen, so you have to watch it through the viewfinder, and it's recording, even when it's playing. So, if you watch for 15 minutes from the beginning, that 15 minutes will be gone by the time you rewind to start over again. if you fast forward and watch the last five when you rewind, a little more than the first five of that 37-minute recording will be gone, because its recording window will have shifted forward during the time you fast-forwarded, watched and rewound, he grimaced. That's what so frustrating.

I can't show you some of the things I've seen with it, because they're already gone. All I can do is take you to places where you'll notice the difference and record new footage. I, I'd Barry, warily. Different because the camera shows you another world? Yes, and yeah, I know it sounds crazy. That's why I'm going to show you, rather than try to convince you.

Just look at the recording as it is now, okay? So you know, it's not some trick or prank I'm pulling. Rewind all the way through the footage through the viewfinder. Just hit the button under your ring finger, and it'll rewind in just a few seconds. hitting the hidden button, I thought about saying something more, but I wasn't sure what would help. This was all really strange, but there had to be a reasonable explanation.

Maybe someone was messing with him, uploading new footage wirelessly to make it look like a magic camera. I didn't know, and the only way I knew to figure it all out was to follow Barry's lead until I knew enough to help him. So, I looked into the camera. Immediately the viewfinder seemed to brighten, though it was hard to say for sure when the scene looked so dark. I hit play with my middle finger, and at first I thought something was wrong.

The screen was just greyish black, and I was about to ask if I was doing something wrong, and the scene brightened somewhat, showing what I guessed was the parking garage across the street from my building. The angle was odd and jumped rhythmically, but I could make out enough to see, that while it was the parking garage, it looked different. There was graffiti covering most of the walls, and as the camera moved, I saw several cars that looked strange

or covered with the dust of disuse. I never noticed any of that before, and I'd been in the garage just that morning. And why? Why is the camera like this, all bouncy and shaky? Barry's face grew a little pale, because it was in my bag as I was walking.

What you're seeing is probably when I was on my way over here. I frowned. What, did you have it sticking through a hole or something? It's not very good footage. He shook his head as he held up his bag and turned for me to see. No, no holes. If it was recording over here, it'd be shown the inside of my bag or be dark. I put it in my bag when I left home and didn't take it out.

until just now when I showed it to you. He gave me a nervous grin. But it wasn't recording over here. It was recording the same spot over there, wherever there is. And over there, there's no bag to block its view. I felt my hands growing cold. I wanted to argue.

To tell him, it had been a great joke, but he needed to drop it. That I was getting irritated with the whole thing. But I didn't. Because I knew he was. wasn't lying. And if it was a joke, it was being played on him too. And my growing anger was in it at him anyway. It was at the fear growing fat in my belly. Taking a deep breath, I put my eye back to the viewfinder. At first, I wasn't sure what I was seeing. The view

seemed to be of a dark wall, periodically punctured with metal rails and bits of wire as the camera seemed to float upward. Shooting Barry, a questioning look. I showed him the viewfinder for a moment. He gave me a shaky laugh. Yeah, that one threw me at first too, but I've seen it in a couple of buildings now. It's when I was coming up the elevator. I guess it doesn't work over there,

so you're seeing the shaft instead. Swallowing, I watched again. The view was going down a version of my floor's hallway, the paint chipped and dirty under sickly flickering fluorescent light. A pause, and then passing through, a door into my apartment. Except this version was filthy, with piles of trash in the corner and different furniture scattered in disarray across the room. I didn't see any sign of a person, and I was grateful. My heart was already hammering harder and harder as I felt the last

threads of my disbelief beginning to fray. When Barry spoke, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Sorry, yeah, it's a lot to take in, I know. What I was saying is, fast forward now, index finger, catch back up and then move the camera around in real time. Hand trembling, I did as he asked. After a few seconds, I caught up to the present, and when I pan the camera, the scene in the viewfinder moved in sync, though it was still showing me that other version of my home.

I could hardly breathe as I'd have to be able to. load the camera again to stare at Barry. I... How is that? It has to be fake, right? Some kind of AR trick or something. He shook his head. It's not.

I've done all kinds of tests. I don't claim to be an expert. But how could it make those kinds of changes in the moment? It's showing us some other place. A place that's very similar to ours. But isn't the same. When I just kept staring, he nodded.

It's hard to believe, I know. It was for me too. That's why, I want you. To go for a walk with me. We went down to the street. Barry's hand tied to mine like a lifeline as I stared through the camera and into that other world. The street and sidewalks were largely the same,

but much of the rest was different. Stores sometimes had different names, or weren't the same kind of store at all. Several buildings were abandoned. and a few had been burned. When I asked Barry about that, he told me that there was lots of places like that all over, and that nearly every house of worship he'd come across,

be it a church, a synagogue, or a mosque, had been burned down or otherwise destroyed. A couple that haven't. His gaze trailed away from me as his lips grew thin. I think they've been converted into worshipping something else. Barry gestured at the camera. Keep looking through I put my eye back to the viewfinder

It was the same time of day Where we were A late winter afternoon That was quickly ripening into a grey twilight In our world People passed us by frequently But in the camera's viewfinder There was no one at

I let out a gasp As a man ran in the corner in the viewfinder He looked slightly dishevelled But otherwise seemed normal Pulling away from the camera, I looked for him in the world. But no, there was a woman and a small child waiting at the crosswalk ahead, but no man in a tattered overcoat trudging in our direction. Looking back to the viewfinder, the man was about to pass us, passed through us,

with no sign of seeing us. Of course, that made sense. We weren't there after all. I handed the camera back to Barry, shakily. What? I... What are you going to do with it? Should you tell someone?

He frowned and shrugged. I don't know. I don't think so. If I show it to people, someone will just steal it or take it away. I want to use it more and try to figure out more. Like, does it always show the same world? Or does it go between different places? I think it's the same one, but it's hard to say for sure.

He looks scared, but excited. It's great. though, right? Kind of spooky, but it's like having a magic mirror or something. I rubbed my arms. I guess. I just... How do you know it's not dangerous?

Or that it wasn't put out for someone to find, like a trap or something? Barry nodded. I know. I've thought about that. And I can't say for sure. But I can't just let go of something like this without trying, can I? He's like thrown away a miracle.

I let her a shaky laugh. My grandma used to say that people only call things miracles if it goes the way they want it to. The stuff that doesn't. That's just bad luck, or the devil. Barry smiled uncertainly. Well, I guess that's true. Not everything turns out good. I shook my head slightly.

No, that wasn't a point. She said that everything turned out good, turned out exactly the way it was meant to be, that every extraordinary thing has a miracle to someone. somebody, even if it hurts others. The thing that changed wasn't the miracle. My glance back down at the camera with a shudder. It was who the miracle helped.

Reaching out, I gently gripped his arm. Just... Just be careful with it, okay? Something passed across his face then. Maybe a moaned of doubt or a more potent strain of fear. But then, it faded again. Nodding, he squeezed my hand. I promise I will be, Barry, disappeared two weeks later

and there's been no sign of him in the months since. He has no family, so I was the one that packed up his stuff when his lease ran out, renting a storage unit to keep it in until he hopefully returned. When I didn't find the camcorder among his belongings, I thought it was strange, but it was also a relief. Though I didn't know for sure, I figured the camera was connected to what happened to my best friend, and if it wasn't going to help me get him back,

I didn't want it around me at all. Then, last week, I got a package in the mail. No return address, and the next day mailing label had been printed by one of those package drop-off stores. When I tracked it down, it was a place in northern New Hampshire. I called, but they said they didn't remember who had come by with the box. That was okay. I thought I already knew, because inside the box was the camera. It had to have come from Barry, and so I thought maybe there was something on it that could give me some clue.

Heart pounding, I picked up the camera and watched the last 37 minutes of footage. It amounted to little, just sitting out in that dirty hallway, and then floating into the other version of my apartment as I discovered it and, brought it inside, no clues of what happened to Barry or caused him to send me the thing that had most likely ruined his life. I almost threw it away. It was an unclean thing that it infected Barry and now was going to infect me if it hadn't already. But then there was the fact that Barry had sent me the camera in the first place.

He wouldn't have done that without a good reason, or if he thought it would hurt me, would he? So I kept it, started using it carefully. At first, it was with the hopes that I could somehow figure out something that would lead me to Barry. But as time went on, I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into the larger mystery of it all. That other world it showed me. It was a wrong place, a bad place that had gone sour down to its core. The people there, half of them seemed twisted and the other half looked exorful. Dorsed and terrified, just watching for a few minutes drained me.

But by the fourth day, I was using it every couple of hours, going to different places around the city to compare my version of a place to its dark twin. When I got back home, there was a letter in my mailbox. The postmark was from Vermont a week earlier, and the address was written in Barry's Lodge and shaky script. Mouth dry, I tore it open and took out the note he'd written. inside. I was wrong. It's not a miracle for us. They have cameras too. And they can reach through. I didn't use the camera for two days. I was too scared. But the more time that passed and the more I

thought about Barry's letter, the more terrified it became of not at least taking an occasional peak, if only to reassure myself that nothing was looking back at me. So I went for a walk yesterday afternoon. Just a short walk, following roughly the same path me and Barry had taken that first night, he'd shown me the camera. At first, it was fine. I could never get used to the strangeness of seeing that other world, but there was no sign of anyone noticing me. I put the camera away to head home, and something made me stop and turn around. There was nothing there. I had to calm down. It was understandable that I was jumpy. But if I started freaking out at every little,

my skin grew cold as a thought occurred to me, and I lifted the camera back to my eye. 30 feet away, there was a woman, standing still as she held the camera up to her face, its lensed eye staring straight at me. She began to smile as she saw me noticing her, the camera bobbing slightly as she gave a small nod, a small greeting or confirmation that she was seeing me,

just like I was seeing her. I started the back pedal, and as I did so, she began to walk toward me. As we picked up pace, she began occasionally peeking out from behind the camera, presumably to watch where I was going, while still following me.

It was one of those times. I saw her face. It was me. The world turned upside down, and I slammed into her trash can and went sprawling. Between going backwards, being too afraid to leave the camera's view and lose sight of her, I'd have to likely run

under the street, if not the steel can bolted to the corner. I felt pain flare up in my hip and elbow as I landed, but I managed to roll over and get to my feet after a couple of breathless seconds. I had to get the camera back and see where she... My eyes found the camera, lying in the street and broken in half from either the fall or the car that had passed over at a moment before I saw where it had landed. Letting out a moan, I darted forward to grab it, but even before I touched it, I saw there was no point. It was crushed beyond any hope of repair, even if someone in this world were capable of working on such a thing.

And I could feel that pressure, that presence growing closer behind me. Even without a camera, I could sense that other watching me, following me as I began to run. I didn't want to go home. in case it didn't know that's where I lived. So instead, I ran the other way, panting with fear and exertion as I tried to distance myself from that terrible prickle on my scalp that told me I was still being pursued.

And it worked, if only a little. By the time I stopped running, the feeling was still there, but was fainter. I was ten blocks away from where I'd fallen, and across the street I saw the bus depot. patting my pockets I was grateful to find I'd brought my card wallet with me

Maybe if I took a trip somewhere for a day or two I could throw off the trail for good At first it seemed to work I went to Springfield And when I got off the bus There was no warning tingle at all I got a motel room And began weighing the risks of returning home

The next day But that night As I was coming back from grabbing dinner At the restaurant near the motel I felt it again, strong like the first time. I couldn't see her, but I still knew. Her or someone like her, someone that could see into this world, had found me again. I write this on the late night bus headed for the West Coast.

My money is going to run out soon, but I don't know that it'll matter. As we pushed through the night, I imagine I could feel a dozen roving eyes turning to toward me as we pass. I think looking into the world has marked me somehow, made me easier to see across whatever veil might separate us from them. A veil that, according to my friend, they can reach through as well. And something is following me. No matter how far I go or how hard I try, I can feel an invisible hunter stalking me and drawing

closer all the time. is that other me I saw on the sidewalk, or maybe it's something else. But the details of that aren't what scares me the most. It's the fact that I can feel myself losing the race with every midnight mile. And it's the question that follows those dark moments when I realize that I'll eventually run out of road happens when it catches me.