Creepy - Day 11 - Persuaded

Episode Date: October 11, 2017

I can hear them...***Written by Chris Stewart***Presented by: Uncanny County (https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/uncanny-county/id1092995407?mt=2)***Sound design by: Emry Rockenfield 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.

This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepypastas and 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. Their discretion is advised. Creepy presents the 31 Days of Horror, Day 11. Persuaded by Chris Stewart. It's been two weeks since the whole thing started.

It all started with a tanker accident. It was all over the news. Everyone thought it was just another oil spill. There were plenty of volunteers, plenty of people wanting to help the poor defenseless animals, plenty of victims. Within hours of the tanker accident, it started happening. The animals have gone crazy.

They were scratching and biting the cleanup volunteers. They said it was an adverse effect of whatever it was in the tanker. Rescue workers were still trying to get the crew out of the ship. They could hear screaming inside, screams to open the door. doors. But that's when it all went to hell, as soon as they cut the door out. There was six minutes of broadcast before it went silent. Six minutes of screaming and agony.

The ship crew attacked the rescue workers like rabid baboons, breaking bones and tearing flesh. The people on the shore weren't faring any better. Those that had been attacked by animals were attacking everyone else. It was worse than any war zone report. It was sheer brutality. And yet the broadcast still went on for six minutes. Six minutes. And then blank faces.

Nobody could explain what was happening. They tried to continue with regular news, the economy, the weather, acute human interest story. But they couldn't make us unsee what we saw. I tried to continue with my regular existence, but every time I switched on the news or walked by a newsstand, it was there. This big mystery. They had some explanations, some kind of infection, brain parasites, but it didn't matter. It wasn't an infection. It wasn't an infection we were afraid of. It was them.

Four days after the initial report, a state of emergency was raised. And yet we'd all seen this before. Every zombie movie ever. People don't know who to trust. People were stockpiling food and weapons. Some tried to flee, but it seems every zombie movie was right. They didn't make it. Three days later, they arrived in my town.

I expected moans, shuffling corpses, dismemberment. But that's where the movies lied. They ran through the streets, screaming. I remember running to my front door as fast as I could, locking, barricading, doing anything to make sure it would stay shut. And then I headed for the window. I was on the second story and I could see the carnage. They were unstoppable. They were aware.

A group of them made their way through a building across the street. They jump straight through plate glass windows. Even the shards slicing through them made no difference. They just kept coming. My barricade wasn't going to hold. I rushed through my flat, grabbing supplies and jamming them into the most secure room of the flat. I went back for one last look across the street, and I wish I hadn't. In a second story window, my face met one of theirs.

They knew where I was. I quickly dashed into the room and locked the door. I don't have any kind of panic room or a secure basement so the safest place I could think of was my bathroom. No windows. One door with a lock. I'd filled my sinking bathtub full of water so I could stay for a while. So I sat there in the dark room with the distance screams in my ears.

I began to feel like I may have always. overreacted. It had been two hours and no sign of them. It actually got quieter and I thought they'd moved on. Maybe I could leave the room, go to the kitchen, grab some food and wait it out. The crash came from the front door. The sound of someone running full force into the door and knocking down the barrier behind it. There was a couple more crashes before I knew they were inside. Rapid footsteps moving around the flat, a couple of screams and a bang on the wall beside me. My eyes weren't open to their widest, even in the pitch-black darkness of the room. Another bang and another. They knew I was there and they knew I was scared.

This was the zombie nightmare I had been expecting from the start. I had nowhere to run. There was only so much time before they would break in. I sat with my back to the door, hoping my extra weight would make it harder for them to get in. And then it got worse. Why don't you open the door? A voice on the opposite side of the door.

No screams or moans is the quiet, whispery voice, and then more of them. The whispery voices became a coughing if you open the door. He's not so bad. To break me, to fool me. I'd heard that moaning of zombies would drive people insane, but this was worse. A siren call.

I sat in the darkness and hoped and prayed that they get bored. But they don't get bored. And they don't leave. I managed these mirror to peek under the door, only to be greeted by horrible, unblinking eyes, blood-smeared faces, screams, and more horrible whispered. That was two days ago. I don't know what to do anymore.

Maybe it won't be so bad. I seem to have missed a decimal point, or 12. God, I hate touch screens. Welcome to the Ridgeway Motel. Remember that every 24 hours is a fresh start. The annual event is B-Y-O-B. Bring your own Bigfoot. I'm familiar with Esperanto.

Looks like you got yourself a bottle of magic developer fluid. What just happened, it's impossible. Oh, God. It's going to be Thunderdome and miniskirts. I wish we were in Machu Picchu. Knock. Who's there? Interrupting Clown.

Interrupting Clown. Tyler. How did you do that? Uncanny County Season 2. Coming this fall to a dimension near you. Catch up on Season 1 at Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, Google Play, or wherever fine podcasts can be found. We'll see you this fall.

and we'll probably be standing right behind you. 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 CreepyPod on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook, or email us at CreepyPod at Gmail. All stories told on this podcast. can be found at creepypasta wiki.com and are protected by a Creative Commons license. Some rights reserved unless otherwise stated.