Creepy - Day 12 - The Interview & My Family Tree

Episode Date: October 12, 2024

The Interview***Written and Narrated by: Rissa Montanez***"Lovely Psycho" and more can be found at: https://meganmcduffee.bandcamp.com/album/crimson-legacy***My Family Tree***https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/***Support the show at patreon.com/creepypod***Sound design by: Pacific Obadiah***Title music by: Alex Aldea 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. listener discretion is advised. It's midnight, it's October, and that means KREP is on the air and ready to guide you through this most magical time of year. It's day 12 of the 31 days of horror,

a time of cool winds, falling leaves, twisted and demented costumes and pumpkins. When the veil between what we know and what we'll never understand is thinnest, and the... You're listening to K. KREP, and I'm your host. The gentle tapping outside your second floor window. The creep himself.

Caller, you're on with KREP. Holy crap. Is this really the creep? You better believe it. The actual creep? Confirmed. The same creep who I've seen stalking around outside my... Oh, looks like the line dropped.

Maybe we'll have more luck on line too. caller you're on KREP with the overnight DJ Oh, cool I've been dying to tell someone about the interview If there's one thing I love about people

It's how damn silly they are Most people think they've got the world figured out If it isn't a fat on social media That doesn't do anything but inspire to continuously scroll, it's the essential oils that cleanse their energy, or those ridiculous vision boards that are supposed to help them manifest their dreams, and, hey, don't forget about those cute little self-help books that promise to fix everything they refuse to put effort in. If they just believe hard enough. Yes, people are very interesting. I know, it's cruel of me

to point out the obvious, it's just all so painfully adorable. Most people out there walk around thinking that they're invincible, that they're in control, and that they can conquer anything if they think positive thoughts, and follow the instructions of a vaguely detailed tarot spread. But oh my goodness, none of you could be more wrong. No one is in true control of anything. Life is simply a series of repercussions beginning with one choice. That is, if a choice is made.

Now, imagine the ripple in time you can make just by making good choices. But no, why make a choice when you have the endless scrolling, the impulse buys, the apps that promise to find you the love of your life or the love of one night? I've been around long enough to see it. Watching your entire species cling to every new fad like it's going to save you from the darkness that's always waiting just out of sight. Spoiler alert, it never does. And for some reason, you keep trying to escape the one thing that might actually save you.

Fear. Fear shows you the truth. Fear reminds you that there are things in this world that are bigger than you. But instead, what do you do? You drown it out with edibles, candles, and podcasts convincing yourself that you've outgrown the things that go bump in the night. But they're still here whether you see them or not, and so am I. Many people think they've got it all under control, but here is the cold hard truth. Fear is the only thing that's real.

The rest? It's all just noise that you use to drown it out. I'll explain. Fear isn't something you can overcome. Fear is the thing that survives. It's the part of you that will always win. By the way, I'm not so different from you. Once upon a time, I was human too. Yes, you heard that right. I didn't stutter, I was just like you. I believed in my potential, thought I could take on the world. I was so sure of myself, so convinced that I could achieve greatness if I just pushed hard enough. At the time, I would have done anything for it. I was even willing to die for it. And in fact, I nearly did. and I often wish I had. I remember it so clearly. I remember it like it was yesterday,

typical scenario where I was standing at the edge of nothingness, simply staring off into an abyss filled with everything and nothing. All while knowing I had one choice left, I lived my life, ready to sacrifice everything for the chance to prove myself, but that's when it happened. Something saved me. Some thing reached out from that darkness, that endless abyss of nothingness and everything, and pulled me back, an entity. It spoke to me, offered me a second chance, a higher purpose, if you will. And like a fool, I took it.

I thought I was being given an opportunity, a way to transcend the limits of my friend, humanity. I didn't realize then what it really was. I didn't understand that I wasn't being saved. I was being claimed. That entity didn't save me out of kindness. It wasn't offering me greatness. It was giving me the chance to become something else, something darker, more twisted than I could have ever imagined. Sure, it gave me power, but it also took everything from me. My face, my identity,

my humanity. And ever since then, I lived my days, wearing other people's lives, stepping into their shoes and living out their stories. So, yes, I was once just like you.

But, Here I am now. And speaking of humans, let me tell you about my little guest from earlier this evening. They walked in with that same arrogance that I used to have. Full of confidence, self-assurance, belief in their own potential. The kind of person who thinks they can manifest their perfect life if they just believe hard enough. Hmm. They were perfect.

I did what I usually do. I began with a question, I asked them. Do you believe in anything real? You should have seen the look on their face, so smug, so sure of themselves, so snobby. They shrugged and gave me the same typical answer everyone else does. Sure, I believe in stuff. But they didn't. They believed in their vision boards and essential oils in instant gratification, their own self-made destiny.

They didn't believe in anything that actually mattered because they thought they were untouchable. And that's when I took their face. You know, there's always that moment right after it happens when they freeze, when they stare at me. shocked to see themselves. They don't move. They don't even speak. They just look at me with that wide-eyed terror sinking in as they realize what's happening. And then the mask slips.

And I get to watch them unravel. And then there's more typical questions after that, but it doesn't matter. They're all the same. They want to know what I am. Why them? But deep down, they already know. They just can't admit it to themselves. They're afraid.

And fear will. Fear is my playground. I told them, like I always do, that I've been around a long time I've worn a lot of faces. And now, now it's time for someone else to take over. Maybe it's them. But it's always the same. First, there's the denial. And then the bargaining.

They think they can still control the situation, like they can refuse me and everything will be fine. It's almost as if their belief in themselves is a type of armor, one that will somehow protect them from what's coming. I want to give you everything, I tell them my voice soft and alert. power, immortality, the ability to be anyone, live any life. All you have to do is give me yours.

And then you could see it sinking in, and then the panic rise as they realize that this wasn't just a dream, that this wasn't something they could walk away from. But of course they tried humans. They always do. It's in their nature. No, they whispered, shaking their head, voice trembling. I'm not interested. I laugh.

It's a cackle more than a laugh, but I do laugh several times over and I tell them you don't have to be interested. You just have to be afraid. And by golly, were they afraid now I could taste it in the air. The very thing I have been denied for as long as, well, since I took my last breath of fresh air, and how I miss it. Fear is intoxicating in how it's woven into a baser instinct. You humans think you can avoid it, but it's always there. Just waiting for the right moment to take hold. Now, after these interviews, after these conversations, they may leave the room.

but they never really leave me. They don't know it, but I'm with them every step of the way in any form. All to pull them back to the moment they saw their own face staring right back at them. It'll eat at them. It will chew at the edges of their subconscious mind until they can't take it anymore. And that's when they'll come back. That's the beauty of it. In place of their fear comes.

curiosity, the big what if, and, oh, do they always come back and when they do, I'll take everything their face, their life, their future. I'll wear it like it's my own, and no one will ever know they were gone, because that's it, isn't it? Fear isn't just something to rum from? It's not a weakness. Fear is what reveals the truth. Fear is the unknown, many of void, in place of their endless scrolling and their candles and their podcasts. Fear is the refusal to explore and confront their true potential. But now here's the part you've been waiting for. The fun part. I told you I interviewed someone tonight, someone to take my place. But here's the truth.

It wasn't just them. It's you, too. You see, this story of mine, it's not just for your entertainment, no, this is something else. This is the moment you invited me in. By staying tuned in, by listening to my voice, you've already opened the door. And now I'm right there with you. It's funny how easy it is.

You sit there listening to me talk, thinking you're safe because it's all just a story, but you're wrong. The second you started listening, you let me in. You let me into your life, into your mind. And now you'll never be able to get rid of me. Oh, sure. Turn off the radio, close your laptop, pretend this never happened.

But it doesn't work like that. I'll still be here. Whispering in the back of your mind, waiting for you to slip up, and when you do, I'll take everything. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, but... Soon. But it's already happening. It could be a shadow that you can't quite shake. A bit of a glimmer in the dark. The way your curtains move when there's no windows open. You think it's nothing. But that's me.

I'm getting closer. And when the moment's right, I'll slip into your life so easily that you won't even notice. I'll take your face, your voice, your everything, and no one will know the difference. your friends, your family, they'll all believe I'm you. And you?

You'll still be there. Don't worry, you'll still be there watching. Watching as I live your life better than you ever could. You'll scream, but no one will hear you. You'll fade away bit by bit until you're nothing and completely forgotten. So why fight it? Face your fear.

Accept the unknown. And make the most of it. And you better hurry because I'm closer than you think. And now a word from our sponsors. We're back on the air with KREP. Unfortunately, it looks like the signal's been getting a good spotty end. Oh, I'm sorry, listeners. I'm not entirely sure what all is getting through

and whatever's going on with the mics. So I'm going to break format for now and spin up a song for you. Personal favorite Megan McDuffie just released her epic second album, Crimson Legacy. Like a cult movie, Crimson Legacy will take the listener to an edgy, disturbing yet alluring fever dream filled with lust, revenge, and whimsy. This one is for all her fellow weirdos, which is warlocks and creatures of the dark corners of the earth. Enjoy the first track on the album

Lovely Psycho Who Wants to Tell Us About? Do you remember stuff that happened to you when you were young? I'm not saying I don't More that the older I get the more shocked I feel When I remember stuff that happened 20 or 30 years ago As if it didn't matter to me Think of the really big things that happened in your life

getting your first job, first car, laid off or fired for the first time. Maybe the first sports team you were on, the first play you had a role in, something that would have been a huge deal back before you graduated high school. Maybe you're in high school right now listening to this. How far back can you remember? Think of something terrible, your worst memory. That thing you're embarrassed to even think of. Maybe you fainted at the sight of a paper cut in front of your crush.

Maybe you wet your pants in middle school. Maybe you called the teacher mom by accident. Something you just hate. But odds are, no one else even remembers. Or do that. Is that how you got a nickname? Is that how you found your friend, or how you lost the friend group you were desperate to be a part of?

Run into someone years after having last seen them. They have nothing to say so they bring up the thing you hate? Yeah, fuck those people too. Sorry to drag up some bad memories, but I do have a point. Think of that thing, that big thing, good or bad. Now try to remember what led up to it. Do you really have any memory of the events, around that moment, the minutes, hours, days before it? Do you really know the cause of it all?

Maybe something happened days or even weeks before that set it all into motion. But you didn't understand. You were too young. You just didn't see where it could lead. I'm not saying it's your fault. But I think that's just because I don't want it to be my fault. And for a long time, it wasn't my fault. Because I didn't remember, but now I do. And all I wish was for the time when I didn't. Life was hard growing up. I bone-strown foster care until I aged out.

Bad places. Bad people. Never made sense to me then. Sure as hell doesn't now. Why be a foster parent if you hate kids? I just can't figure out how it's worth it for the small monthly payment and some vouchers. Don't get me wrong. They aren't all like that.

It's not like the movies or TV shows where every single foster parent is an abusive, drunk piece of shit. But from my experience, when you aren't there blood, patience isn't something to come to expect. Still, I came from a worse place. A worse moment. I was 10. There was this big open park near the baseball fields where we used to play. In the summers, it was kickball or t-ball or touch football. In the winters, it was snowball fights and sledding. There was this one huge tree at the top of the hill, not a pine tree or a fruit tree or anything like that but I couldn't tell you what kind maybe a maple or an elm

something with leaves that fell off in the fall it sort of looked like a hand reaching up to the sky with twisted fingers when there wasn't anyone around to play I used to sit up there and draw I can't remember what I used to draw I know I don't draw now probably cartoon characters

maybe people, trees, the dog I never had up in the corner would be a quarter circle of a sun with lines coming out of it maybe it was smiling doesn't really matter unless it does unless it was something

I had to be up there to draw I wonder what it was that day that got me up there All I remember was sitting there, notebook in hand. It must have been art, right? Some 10-year-old isn't writing in a journal or diary, are they? Maybe they are. I just remember sitting there under the canopy of leaves.

Leaves so dense you couldn't see the branches or those gnarled witch fingers underneath it until they finally all decided to fall in November. It must have been October. Not the good part of October. when it's late and cool and Halloween is right around the corner with promises of sugar rushes and childish pranks. The bad part at the beginning. When there's still some rain and the leaves that fall are wet and there's that manure smell in the air of the dying grass.

No, give me late October. When walking through the leaves, sounds like you're stomping on potato chips. I was sitting there in October. No book in my lap, probably not paying attention enough to realize I wasn't alone. But I don't remember being startled when I realized it either. I was old enough to know all about Stranger Danger, white vans without windows and all that. But it was still light out. And when you're a kid, you think stupid things.

You make up cause and effects that aren't real because you don't know what. better. I just kept my attention down. Maybe I was scared, hoping he wasn't talking to me. Maybe there was someone else I couldn't see without looking up. Maybe he was crazy. There's still a long time before cell phones and Bluetooth earbuds. So you knew crazy people when you saw him talking to themselves in the bigger cities. But he was talking to me. I don't remember looking at up at him or saying anything back, but maybe I did. I don't remember. I could make something up, but what's the point?

I remember something about the guy talking about trees. I couldn't tell you what he said because it was so long ago and didn't think it mattered. But I remember being there and I remember I wasn't alone. Because later, much later, it did matter. I wish I remembered. I wish I'd been paying attention. It all might have made more sense. There might have been more reason or warning or understanding.

But there wasn't. Two events were forever separated until my mind finally realized the connection all that time later, so I couldn't tell you what he looked like. Not his height, weight, color of his skin, or anything he was wearing. just that he was there and he was talking about trees. The only thing I remember him saying was something about that tree, the one I was sitting under, being my family tree, which didn't make sense for any number of reasons.

Then or now. It does now. And that's what I remember of him. A man in some vague comment about my family owning a tree. I think I remembered him patting him. it out of the corner of my eye and looking up at it. But I might be making that up. I don't remember leaving the tree, but obviously I must have.

And I don't remember the man leaving either, but obviously he must have. But that's how memories work anyway, right? You just remember bits and pieces, then put them together in your head, filling in the gaps. So I must have gone home at some point. I just don't remember walking there. I remember the empty house, though. I was a latchkey kid like a lot of kids in my neighborhood. So going home to an empty house wasn't strange to me at all,

except that it was a weekend. I wasn't coming from school. I'd just been at the park. Usually mom would leave a note if she'd gone to the store and taken my younger siblings with her. But I don't remember seeing a note. There wasn't a note. I know that now. and sometimes dad would get called into work even on the weekends.

He was an electrician and seemingly always on call. Outside of dinner time and vacations and hearing him yell from the stands at T-ball, I don't really have memories of him. When the house was still empty that night, I went to bed. I didn't go to a neighbor or call the police because I had no concept of such things. My parents never sat me down and said, if there's ever a time when we aren't home when it's time for bad call 911 so in the morning when they still weren't there well if the rest of this story's been any indication you probably

already guessed that i don't know what i did what happened next lives in my head like a slideshow played at triple speed like rifling through a deck of Polaroid pictures There were cops and women who spoke in gentle voices asking me how I felt. There was an unfamiliar bed, questions about relatives. Then finally a group home. It all must happen fast because it wasn't until after all that happened that the leaves finally fell off the big tree on the hill in the park. And that's when I understand what the man meant by my family tree.

even with all the branches they could be spaced apart just far enough that their feet dangled in the air mom, dad, my brother and sister swinging gently in the breeze like the last leaves waiting to fall from the tree but they'd never fall not until the ropes rotted

or they were cut down I think maybe it's good that we can't remember everything that happens to us I spend just about every day in my life afraid I'm going to remember something else something that might have saved my family from being hanged from the big tree in the park by a man whose face I can't remember

hanged from my family tree That's all the time we have for tonight dear listeners As always this is the creep And you're listening to KREP Today, tomorrow and four For more information on this podcast, including how to submit your own story for consideration, please visit creepypod.com.

You can also follow us at creepypod on social media and YouTube. All stories told on this podcast are done so through Creative Commons share-a-like licensing, or with written consent from the authors. No portion of this podcast may be rebroadcast or otherwise distributed without the express written consent of the creepy podcast production team and the stories author.