Creepy - Day 10 - Lights

Episode Date: October 10, 2020

No one will believe you...***Written by ShadowSwimmer77 and narrated by Jimmy Ferrer***See your donation rewards podcast at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQ3SrH_3fsROXFAjomKcUtw***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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or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Presents the 31 Days of Horror. Day 10. Lights. Written by Shadow Swimmer 77.

And narrated by Jimmy Ferrer. Flat on my back. I wake in total darkness. What the hell happened to me? It's so hard to remember. Was I driving? My memories are muggy. It feels like I'm...

Coming off the worst hangover ever. Confused images and sounds flashed through my head like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Tossed in a blender. There's the country bar I go to on Thursdays. Toby Keith playing on the radio. Blinding lights. Flashing like a stroke. My red Ford pickup driving down Route 22.

A deep throming sound. crushing in its intensity. Sexy little brunette, leaning over a pool table. It seems like she should be familiar. Sarah. The name comes to me from somewhere out of the recess of my mind. That's right. Her name is Sarah.

We've been hooking up for a while, but really only started getting serious a couple months ago. Was she with me? I tried to move. But can't. With gawning horror, I... Realize I can't even feel my limbs. I cannot be paralyzed. Did I get in a car crash?

Did I break my fucking neck? No, no. This can't... God, this can't be happening. Without warning, the lights turn on. So intense. It's all I can do not to cry out. I can't identify the source.

The line is coming from everywhere And nowhere I try to close my eyes to shield them against the Piercing brightness But I can't even manage that Even quadriplegics Can't they? Jesus

What is this shit? My eyes start to water and I feel a scream Building in my throat as the light pierces my head like an ice Woman catches my eye and a figure stands before me. It's Sarah. Wait, what? How is... I'm lying down.

I have to be. I can't feel my freaking legs. How is she standing in front of me? Hello, David. Sarah smiles at me. I imagine you have a few questions. Did you do this to me? What the hell is going on?

I try to scream but my voice sons. Unresponsive is my eyelids. Ah, not so loud. I can hear you just fine. She smiles again. We don't have much time. So I'll try to give you a quick overview. We've been watching you for a very long time, David.

You possess certain. genetic traits that are incredibly interesting to us. Nothing you'd notice unless you'd had someone met, analyze your genome, and even then, you'd need to know where to look. But the potential in your genetic code, in a planet of over 6 billion people, only a few thousand possess the specific sequences you do. Just a few small sparks and,

a yawning abyss of mediocrity. Your many times great-grandchildren would ultimately provide mankind, with its next evolutionary leap, ushering in a new dawn of humanity. Lights to ward off the coming darkness, but the dark is swift and we can't afford to wait for evolution to take its natural course. What are you talking about? Did you truck me? I can't move.

Our technology is significantly. be more advanced than anything you're familiar with. You are currently being held in stasis, because it wouldn't do for you to damage yourself. A strange multi-armed machine appears beside her. Each appendage capped with a wicked-looking instrument. I can't identify the function of any of them. And I'm pretty sure I don't want to.

The necessary techniques to harvest your DNA are rather invasive and extremely uncomfortable. Even more unfortunate is that anesthesia interferes with the data, but we're almost at a time. She pats my forehead, which I chillingly realize I can feel perfectly. David, I truly regret the suffering you're about to endure. If it is of any consolation to you, Please know that you'll be contributing to the greater good. No, you psycho-pinch.

Don't you fucking touch me. You stay the fuck away from me, Sarah. Oh, I'm sorry, David. I only took this form because I hope it might do something to calm you. She moves out of my line of sight. We have Sarah in the next room. Clicking and worrying. The instruments on the machine come to life and slowly,

agonizingly extend towards me. The pain hits like sledgehammer to the back of my skull. It feels as how every nerve on my body has been simultaneously lit on fire. Incredibly, rather than subsiding, the pain, only intensifies until there's nothing else. I become pain screen. Awake, awake, awake, awake, awake, awake. The woman, compared to the other pain, the still blinding light is almost forgotten.

Finally, I identify its source. Two spheres, burning like miniature suns at eye level. They float closer, so close that I can't see anything else. Close enough to burn. Close enough to... David, watch out! Sarah's scream startles me, and I swerve. Narrowly avoiding the oncoming semi.

Somehow I must have drifted lanes. Did... I fall asleep at the wheel? Nerves frazzled. I pull over to the side of the road. My hands are shaking. On the radio, Toby Keith and Willie Nelson are singing about... giving beer to horses.

Jesus, that was close. You okay, babe? Sarah's staring straight ahead. Eyes swelling. Her mouth moves wordlessly for a moment until she turns to me. I'm pregnant, she blurts out. Oh, God. I didn't mean to tell you like this, but I'm sorry, David.

I didn't know what I wanted to do and I wanted to wait until I had decided. We almost just died and... Words fail her. And tears start to run down her face. Hair must. Mascara running. She's never been more beautiful. Hey.

I reach over and gently wrap her in a hug. It's okay. We're in this together. I'm here. I just sit there, holding her for a long time. Headlights from passing traffic periodically washing over us. Thick clouds overhead finally let loose a gentle rain that patters softly against the cab, drowning out the world.

A low roll of thunder sounds ominously in the distance. We are wrapped in a cocoon, Sarah and I. Just us. The rain. The gathering storm. And my child, my child, going to be a father. And, although I'm sure it's a thought all parents have, I just can't shake the feeling that this kid's going to be something special.

The Patreon Vault. Creepy Presents Over the River and Through the Woods by Koala Kip, posted for consideration on the creepypod subreddit. not go to the house you barely remember. The house you think smells of cookies and pie. You may think you have fond

memories, but there's things that small children imagine. She's still there, of course. But her black eyes are colder than they were 15 years ago. And even then, they had all the warmth of a blizzard. You think you remember a spotted pony

out back, right? Well, it's still alive, too. but its eyes are milky gray and when you pet the old mag its hair will fall off in clumps in your hand it will bear its teeth at you so save your carrots because it would rather take a bite out of you

the cute little red barn you remember it's actually gray and any day now it's going to fall down as it should the walls are lined inside with old knives and axes, and the skulls of dead cattle are stacked in the corner. From years of spring calves that winter slaughtered for dinner, she doesn't have cows anymore, so at least you won't need to help with that. The house itself is full of things. She's a hoarder

after all and things fall down. Old clothes, hats, or bowling balls, any old thing. Watch out for sharp objects like letter openers in odd places like between the cushions of a sofa. She forgets things like that. There may be room for you to sleep in unless it's filled with some dead relative stuff. If you have to sleep on the couch, you get to listen to mice run across the floor. Don't fall asleep eating any leftover Christmas cookies. The floorboards have shrunken over the years, so don't be running around in your cute little Christmas sucks, dear, because a nail could slice open your cute little footsie.

Tetanus is a gift that keeps on giving. There isn't the hospital nearby, so wear your damn shoes. It's cold and there isn't any heat in the house besides the old wood stove. She'll want you to cut wood. wear your gloves and don't stay out too long. She may forget you're there and lock you out. Like I said, she forgets. Pay attention while you're cutting wood.

If your fingers get numb, stop. Or your hand might slip and that dull axe may end up in your shin. Accidents happen at Grandma's house. Accidents happen around Grandma. There's no cell service out there and no internet. Take my advice. Do not go to Grandma's house. For more information, including pictures and videos of the stories told on this podcast,

or to suggest stories for future episodes, please visit us. At creepy pod on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. 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.