Creepy - Castaway

Episode Date: March 30, 2020

Sometimes you just need to get away...*** Written by Steve Blizin and narrated by Owen McCuen and Megan McDuffee***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/creepypod***Produced by Steve Blizin***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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and that during all of this I've been thinking about the listeners first and foremost and how it could affect your enjoyment of the show. Speaking of the show, now, this is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastures and earth. Urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened

or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. By Steve Blisen. With guest narration,

by Owen and Megan McDuffey. A little over a year ago, Branden, Keith lost their only daughter Lori. A drunk driver robbed them of their faith, hope, and their effervescent teen. Jenna sank quietly into deep despair, but Brad kept himself busy, crafting distractions. Day by day, the doting husband focused his attention between keeping the marriage together and executing plans. He scrimped, saved, and scrutinized their budgets until he had set aside enough to buy a pre-owned boat.

But this was not some random sailing ship. This was the Highless 54, a swift and sturdy 54-foot yacht worthy of the open sea. Brad had purchased the pristine 2019 model site unseen from its birth at Auckland Harbor. Over dinner, Brad made the announcement. They were owners of a sailing ship, and he'd arranged a leave of absence

so they could take some time to see the world. Jenna stared at her wine glass with barely passing interest. But as Brad laid out all of his plans, something began to stir in her again. Maybe Brad was right. Maybe time at sea would do her good. Brad and Jenna had first met on the water, working as decanons on the South Pacific sailing circuit in the 90s. The ocean had been the backdrop for all their great.

adventures. Borah, Turks and Caicos, Thailand and Fiji. Their daughter, Lori, was conceived in Fiji. Tears began to fall from Jenna's eyes. A broad smile now stretched across her face. Vivid images flashed as she recalled the good days. Azur blue and turquoise waters, white sand beaches under a brilliant sun, the gentle sway of palm trees and the island breeze, a calming surf, a golden horizon. Brad held Jenna's hand in his own as he suggested their new ship should be christened, the Lori Kay. Jenna's mind began reeling. Emotions swirled like Gail Force winds, monstrous tears now splashed against the table. Will you sail the world with me?

Brad asked, holding his wife's now trembling hand. The blonde-haired blue-eyed bride smiled brightly. Of course I will. She said. Brad had longed to see that smile for two long years, and here it was, as bright as ever. The uneventful flight from Los Angeles, the ship's inspection, paperwork and signatures,

Even the christening of the Lori Kay were merely just a blur to Jenna. She was only interested in getting underway. The busy Auckland Harbor with all its sights and sounds, merely an impedance to adventure. Finally they made it through, and it was just the two of them again. The ocean currents lapping gently at their hull, sailcloth flapping in the wind. Brad, an experienced and competent captain. and Jenna is incomparable first mate. Jenna's smile came easily at sea and Brad was in his element.

He confidently charted course for the Cook Islands. The first of many stops he planned for their grand tour. That first night they sat in the cockpit, sharing an expensive shardin hay and watching the sun slip into the shimmering sea. By the time the wine was gone, stars had filled the moon. light sky with celestial mysteries. Brad pondered ancient mariners while Jenna watched her shooting stars. How could ships have ever navigated by these ephemeral points of light?

With her own question. How could stars predict the fortunes and failures of sailors or if lovers are compatible? She said, thinking that maybe Brad's plan was not his plan at all. Maybe it was written in the stars. few days into their journey and they were well into routines. The work was hard but gave Jenna focus, something that felt good and necessary for her mind, body, and soul. Each day's end found them exhausted, ready for the night's rewards.

Sleep had not come easy on the mainland but now. The couple felt more rested and alive with every waking moment. One night they lay on the forward deck and stared at the celestial lights. Spotting a shooting star, Jenna quietly made a wish and drifted off to sleep. Sunrise found them wrapped in blankets still laying on the ship's bow. Jenna woke first and greeted the rising sun with a stretch and a yawn. She sat upright in her makeshift bed and drank in the entire scene.

Pink and golden sunlight dancing on the azure sea. A tiny island in the distance. That one! Jenna blurted out excitedly, shaking Brad awake. I want to go see that one. I rolled over, bleary-eyed, to find Jenna pointing towards a tiny speck of land off the starboard bow. As you wish, my lady. He crumbled grogly, pulling the blankets over his head.

Now let your captain's sleeper. Laughing, they fell into a long embrace before resuming the daily chores. How calculating distance by sight, it's unreliable. What appears to be close might still be miles away. Brad suggested over coffee. Jen's island was such the case. Full days travel might get them close, but perhaps not all the way. Brad unfroled his charts and maps and spread them across the galley table,

staining a portion of the South Pacific chart. We're about here. He motioned. The island. is here, but it doesn't appear to have a name. Brad said, pointing at a tiny dot, surrounded by miles of open water in all directions. So, we can name it when we get there? Jenna excitedly asked.

By all means! Brad proclaimed vigorously, We shall claim it in the service of Her Majesty. They giggled Brad's terrible British accent in overly officious reply. A strong wind filled the sails as Brett set course. towards Jenna's island. It felt as if a mighty hand was guiding them along, checking his course repeatedly by gauge and charred denied. Brad struck a confident pose at the ship's wheel.

Jenna noticed him more now than she had in years. He was a good man, and she felt as though she might be falling in love with him all over again. With every flap of sailcloth, Jenna's anticipation began to grow. As they drew near the tiny island, she squealed with excitement, pointing at dolphins giving chase along the portside bow. She scanned the skies for hints of storms and kept a vigil for approaching vessels. By the time the sun had set, they were close enough to make landfall, but the captain cautioned they would go no further in the dark.

There could be dangerous reefs hiding in the shallows. It was just too much to risk. In the morning, they would dive, explore and inspect the situation. In the early morning hours, a postcard picture sunrise emerged from cloudless skies. Daylight found the couple already hard at work, readying their snorkeling gear for the morning's swim. Jenna jumped in first with Brad close behind her. Exploring the massive hidden coral reef before them, Brad proved his captain's instincts to be right. The lurking danger in the shallows also proved to be a treat.

Visibility was perfect as they swam the jagged coral just beneath the ocean's surface. Plants swayed in gentle currents as brightly colored fish darted in and out of view. There were parrot fish and coral grouper. A pot of dolphins, a lone sea turtle. A more eel curious from its hide. Mantis shrimp picked delicate paths along the sea. the seafloor while lionfish and blue tang made spectacles of themselves. Barakuta darted through the current as if the laws of physics did not exist in this wondrous tranquil space.

They could see giant schools of silver bait fish swirling near the water's surface. It was so serene and magical. Brad and Jenna spent the morning marveling at the beauty of it all. After their swim and a repositioning of the Lori Kay, Brad and Jenner spent the morning marveling of the Lori Kay. Brad and Jenna were standing on the tiny island. They walked around the perimeter, seeing nothing that suggested inhabitants or even regular visitors. They walked into the brushy interior in her just skittering noise, possibly from birds or maybe an iguana. Something was moving in the brush, still looking towards the sounds, was startled by Jenna's outcry. Brad, look!

This looks fresh. She yelled, pointing at what appeared to be a child's footprint in the sandy soil. They both studied it before Brad spoke. Probably from the last visitors. No, look! Here's another one. Jenna called back as she stepped deeper into the brush. Honey, be careful. Brad warned.

We don't know what lives here. A flash of human form sprang from behind a lone Pacific Rosewood. A child. A girl? She ran across the open space stick refuge in the brush. Her tangle golden hair almost as long as she was tall. Child quickly froze in her tracks when she realized she'd been noticed, hoping to blend into her surroundings like a frightened rabbit might do.

I think it's... I think it's... It's a little girl! Red shouted. Jenna sprang upright, swiftly returning to her husband's side. They all three stood there, staring at each other, drinking the vision in. Jenna knelt and began to coax the child to approach her. Hi, sweetheart.

Are you okay? She cooed in that mother's voice that she would only use with Laurie. Brad felt his knees began to buckle and steadied himself. This isn't... This is impossible. Brad whispered to Jenna, grimacing at this stage. venture around them. There's no way a child could survive out here alone.

Not even for a week. Oh, God, she smells like she's been here for months. He turned to face, Jenna. There must have been a shipwreck. She's going to need some medical attention. Brack called over his shoulders as he turned to run towards the boat. Look, I'll call the Coast Guard and see if they can send some help. Jenna held her arms out and called to the child.

Baby, come here. It's okay. Jenna said softly. He's going to get some help for you. What's your name? Jenna paused to give the girl a chance to speak, but the child said nothing. We're going to take care of you. Jenna continued. Get you off this island.

What happened to your mom and dad? Can you tell me? The child stood perfectly still and silent. The tangled nest of golden hair draped over her body like a cloak. She barely looked human. piercing blue eyes hit beneath her matted hair she had cuts and lesions,

welts and boils that protruded from surface of her skin layers of dirt and dried sea salt gave the child a pallid ghostly hue her pale gray face expressionless with large dark circles formed around her eyes she looked as if she hadn't slept in centuries

Her mouth drew up into a grimace bearing jagged, rotting teeth. The smell of spoiled meat surrounded the child. Her frightening appearance was instantly ignored by Jenna as the child stared at her intently with vibrant blue eyes. They almost seemed to glow, easily piercing the veil of filthy, matted hair that hit her hideous features. The child's eyes followed Jenna's every motion, yet she made me. no sound. None but a raspy, rapid breathing barely made evident by the child's rising and falling chest. Jenna was convinced the girl was merely just afraid. Moving slowly, so as to not alarm the child any further, Jenna kept her eyes in constant contact with the girls.

What's your name, honey? Jenna cooed. Can you tell me? You must be starving. The child's fingers curled and unfurled nervously. Sensing the tension, Jenna slowly sat cross-legged on the ground, letting the child know that there would be no chase if the child chose to run. Brad climbed back aboard the Lori Kay and worked the radio, eventually raising someone from the volunteer Coast Guard. Brad explained the situation with the girl and requested a medical evacuation. The volunteer paused to calculate the island's position.

and explained that helicopters were too far out of fuel range to make the rescue. He suggested one of the freighter ships could respond, the radio said in a thick New Zealand accent, before the radio sparkled to life again. The volunteer had bad news. There was no ship nearby to make an evacuation. The volunteer said, the man suggested. Brad agreed without hesitation,

knowing well and good what Jenna would have to say about it. When Brad returned to update Jenna, she was holding the girl in a tight embrace. Brad kept its distance so as to not frighten the child. Jenna was sobbing, but the girl showed no emotion whatsoever. She almost seemed to stiffen in Jenna's warm embrace. Jenna held her out at arm's length, just far enough away to make eye contact with the girl. She spoke softly. This is Brad, my husband.

He's going to help us get you home, okay? The girl slowly turned in Brad's direction, then back to Jenna. She seemed to understand. Brad said they would need to bring the child to Rarotonga so she could have a medical evaluation. Would you like to go on a boat trip? Jenna asked the silent girl. Jenna took the girl's hand and walked slowly towards the water. She knelt and tried as best as she could to bathe the child in a warm, clear, shallow sea.

The girl made no attempt to stop her. The girl felt strangely cold, her skin rough and dry and brittle. Dirt seemed almost embedded in the poor child's skin. The amount of scrubbing would release the stain. Once aboard the yacht, the girl said apprehensively but unmoving, carefully observing every movement. the couple made. When Brad started up the massive diesel engine, the girl jerked fearfully away from the source of the sound, but Jenna held her tightly in her arms.

There, there, it's just the motor, sweetheart. Jenna cooled. Barely underway, the cockpit seemed to fill with a hot stagnant air. Brad grew increasingly angry, anxious over the sudden change plans. They were still in sight of the island. and already their new passenger had become a liability. How would they keep her safe, keep her secure aboard the boat? Did Brad even have a child-sized light vest on board, fueled by his parental desire to protect the child from injury or from going overboard?

He was also concerned for Jenna and wanted to protect her from further heartache. Jenna had suffered so greatly trying to come to terms over the loss of her daughter and now. She had become so easily attached to this strange thing. It was only going to get more difficult for Jenna when the ship returned to shore. In the galley, Jenna tried communicating with the child as she brushed and pulled at the nest of stringy clumps of hair. I know it hurts, baby. Jenna said, pulling handfuls of hair from the brush as she tugged the hairbrush free. I'm so sorry, this hurts you, honey.

Jenna sighed, but the child never winced in pain. I know this sounds crazy. Jenna whispered softly as she worked the hairbrush over the dense and tangled weave. I don't even know if you understand a single word I'm saying, but I wished for you that night. The night I saw that shooting star, I wished with all my heart for one more chance. One more chance to be a mother. one more chance to love and be loved. I'm going to keep you safe.

I'll take care of you and love you if you'll let me. The child remained still and silent, steadfast in her wooden pose. Scanning the cabin with piercing blue eyes, the girl barely looked at Jenna as she draked the hairbrushed through tangle after tangle of matted hair, never flinching at the tugs and pulls the girl showed no sign of pain or emotion. She revealed nothing of her condition, her origin, or native tongue. She was as much a mystery as all the sea around them. But Jenna didn't seem to mind.

She was sure the child was sent from heaven. An answer to a prayer. Jenna gathered up the tangle piles of hair, dried leaves and twigs that now lay at the child's feet and dropped him out to starboard porthole. The passenger was far more than just unknown. She smelled awful, foul and rotten, like some long dead animal found on the side of the road, Grinness maybe.

Where was the wound? How did she end up on that island? How long had she survived? And who would come to claim her? when they finally reached landfall, Brad's thoughts began to spiral out of control. How much would this cost them? Who would pay the medical pills? How long would they be delayed?

His nostrils flared and his chest pounded. God damn it! He exclaimed a loud pounding on the ship's wheel. The more he pondered his predicament, the more resentful he became. He bristled at the notion of genus staying with a child until they had. some answers. This child was a thief. She had stolen everything. Their plans, their route, their entire schedule. All of it was dependent on the seasons. Long-established patterns of weather, wind, and tide. There's no place for this kind of deviation. Brad's anxiety began to

roil and swirl like storm clouds. His vision narrowed, those eyes grew wide. His palm Holmes began to sweat. His breathing hastened. His body now reacted as if he were in eminent danger. Oh, God, and that fucking smell! Brad muttered under his breath. He clenched his jaw tightly and fixed eyes on the horizon. By God, Jenna, that smell is the smell of death. He bellowed out. The pungent odor stung his nostrils. Got in his throat and made his stomach turn. Concerned for the child's child's heart. welfare twisted into rage without relief. Jenna grabbed her favorite denim shirt and buttoned it for the girl. Then she proudly stood and turned to face the captain, presenting the child as though she were

dressed for Sunday dinner. The child's hair now tamed and braided, her wounds now dressed and cleaned. Looks great. Lipsick on a gargoyle. Brett's spat in a salty tone. The child sunk in eyes. began to cast a haunting glow. She knew.

She knew all along how to work you. Manipulate your emotions, make you fall in all over her. The perfect ruse to ruin our trip. Brad was seething. Cast away my ass. She was intentionally marooned there. He glowered under his breath. Open the goddamn hatches.

That thing is stinking up the place. He commanded. Get some air circulating down there. And for God's see. sake, will you bring her up on deck where she could be in the wind? Jenna was taken aback by Brad's demeanor. She quickly snapped back with equal venom. What's gotten into you, Bradley Keith?

Have you no consideration for this child? You don't have to act like a jealous asshole just because someone else is getting my attention. Jenna caught herself and turned back towards the girl. Oh, I'm sorry about that language, sweetheart. I shouldn't have used that bad word. Christ Jenna. She's astray. Some sickly waif we found on a fucking deserted island.

Brad shot back. It's not like she's our child. Jenna spun around and climbed out into the cockpit. She slapped her husband hard across the face. Then she turned and led the young girl back below into the galley. She opened up the hatch as Brad commanded, while the captain rubbed his stubble, stinging jaw. Everything building up momentum until suddenly.

docking crash into a halt, which had been steady in their favor, quickly faded from the sails. The yacht slowed before finally he even to impounding at the wheel again. You'd have to burn through all of his fuel stores to reach Raritonga now. It's your goddamn fault we made that excursion in the first place. Now look at us, dead in the water. Damn it all the hell! Set his course and prepared to take in the sail. As he stood, he noticed a child staring up at him from below deck,

her unwavering gaze making his blood boil. Jenna! He bellowed through gritted teeth. Come collect this putrid thing. She smells like a fucking corpse. Jesus, plug your nose then, Bradley. Jenna replied. And watch your mouth, you insensitive bastard.

How can you speak that way about a child? Jenna shouted back from below deck. I love it. were quickly devolving into madness, fighting more ferociously than they had ever fought before. They were being influenced by the child somehow, and their confinement on the yacht wasn't helping. There was no place to escape each other. The foul odors seemed to be intensifying, the child transforming. The further from the island they sailed, the more hideous the child began to look.

But Jenna couldn't see a transformation. To her, the girl appeared homely, perhaps, but an otherwise clean and tidy child. Brad believed he was seeing the child's true form. A grotesque, rotted creature scarcely human. The corpse-like frame turned to face the captain and flashed its jakeet teeth, taunting him with a wretched smile, gaunt and gray. One may have once been skin saked over its bones and patches.

It buckled and cracked like a long, dry lake bed. Large gaps and voids exposed strands of sinew and glossy muscle. Rotting blue and white cords twisted with reddish-purple veins were visible through translucent skin. Its face mirroring visages of ancient demons, grievous, stone-like, flashing through a multitude of horrors. This child was no humid at all. It was merely taking on that form.

A hideous mimic cloaked in decayed and rotting flesh, obscene, evolving. Its long fingernails and sharp bony features now seem prominent as its fiery stare illuminated dark eye sockets. Its gaze, a mesmerizing mixture of indigo and orange, like tiny bonfires raging against the midnight sky. Brad could barely look at it before being forced to look away. A sudden shift brought Bats moved back under control. A flesh of clarity made Brad realize the danger they were in.

He pleaded for Jenna to forgive him and just returned the child to the island where they phoned her. Jenna, baby, listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, just, I need you to forgive me, but listen, this is not, this is not a kid. This is not normal. This thing is a demon. You got, listen, you gotta listen to me. We got to get out of here. This is a fucking monster.

It is not a child. We have to get out of here. Jenna, we have to take this thing back where we found it. Back to the island. It is not a kid. It is some kind of demon. It's tearing us apart. He begged her to listen to reason and when she refused.

He throttled up the ship's engine, turning the ship around. Jenna screamed at this decision. She saw no demon in the child. She only saw an innocent girl. If there was any demon aboard the Lori Kay, it was Brad. Brad gazed down to see the monster heave itself into Jenna's open arms. It bared its vile, green teeth and a repulsive smile taunting Brad. Get off my ship, imposter!

Brad shouted at the thing transforming before his eyes. Get the fuck with my ship or die! The demon lies! laughed, a low, raspy laugh. Its flesh healing as Brad's anger flared. He descended the steps into the galley, searching for the fire extinguisher just below deck. But it was far too late for warfare. Brad's anger fueled the little monster and the wretched thing feasted for the first time in centuries.

With every beat of sweat forming on Brad's forehead, every angry word or thought, The tiny beast grew stronger, lean, devouring the anger Brad was generating. Brad was so enraged that he dove on the child in an attempt to capture it. If he was successful, he would wrestle it on deck and throw it overboard. It was a boring smile, taunting him again before it sank its long, jagged teeth into the captain's neck and shoulder. One around to see that Jenna found the fire extinguisher. His pleading eyes attempting to ask for help before the thing could bleed him dry. But Jenna used the extinguisher to bash her husband's skull.

He fell to the death, releasing his grip on the child. And now distracted by the fallen child did not notice bread crawling towards the bench seat storage area where he kept his spear gun. She had noticed that when he stood, he was clutching tightly to a single spear. steadied himself, leaning against the galley table with his hip, then brought the spear down hard towards a grinning beast in Jenna's arms. But Jenna turned at just that moment, and Brad struck her near the base of her throat. The child slipped from her arms, beaming as Bradston motionless, staring at his unintended victim.

Jenna knelt slowly. Clutching at the spear protruding from her neck as Brad approached her eyes welling up with tears. He studied the wound, Jenna, Jena, I can't. Hopelessly searching for a way to remove it. Jenna's right hand found the fire extinguisher laying on the floor beside her. She swung it up with all her might, knocking Brad back.

Max followed, spluttering bone, blood and brain matter around the galley. The blows continued until Jenna ran out of her. hair. Her lifeless body collapsed on top of what was left of Brad's, longer recognizable as human. The demon child squatted awkwardly beside the body, lifting up to her lifeless limbs, testing for a reflex or any sign of life in a burst of blind ferocity. It tore with jagged teeth at Bradley's corpse. Then paused and smiled a blood-stained smile before focusing on your face. In Jena, before the Lorry Kay was found, adrift in open water 26 miles from Aritonga shores. Local fishermen towed the ghostly ship into the marina, where investigators combed the vessel

in search of clues. Accidents that result in death are not uncommon at sea. Robe waves, accidental drownings, a dive gone wrong, a rudder lost. detectives were perplexed by what they found inside the cabin. Two ravaged human bodies, presumably the registered owners of the boat, obvious signs of struggle. A grisly crime scene strewn with body parts and clumps of matted human hair, seabirds thickly congregated on the vessel, no doubt attracted by the smell. They fought and pecked over the running bits of carry on, which caused the coroner's man to give up his breakfast, racing from the galley to the rails.

But the constable was certain that whatever damage he was seeing was caused by something more than simply seagulls. Blood stained the ceiling, walls, and port holes of the cabin. The stench inside was awful. The body parts had bite marks and appear to be partially consumed. Perhaps the couple had owned an exotic animal. But what animal could do this? Especially at sea. It's after the discovery of the Lori K. A brief and garbled radio transmission was picked up by the volunteer Coast Guard.

A Danish cargo freighter sent a single May Day distress call. The volunteer operator on duty recorded the message and determined that the ship was requesting medical assistance. The Coast Guard search was launched, but the ship, its crew, and cargo were never found. Investigators charting the trajectory of the freighter and the lower K. Show as possible the two ships might have crossed paths. This is the recording of that final radio distress call. More information, including pictures and videos of the stories told on this podcast,

or to suggest stories for future episodes, please visit us. at Creepypod on Twitter, Instagram. All stories told on this podcast can be found at creepypasta wikia.com and are protected by a Creative Commons license. Some rights reserved unless otherwise stated. Bloody disgusting podcast network. Home of Creepy for disturbing and terrifying creepy pastas. SCP Archives with full cast storytelling, horror queers, genre commentary from the LGBT

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