Creepy - Day 13 - Shatter

Episode Date: October 13, 2017

Something's wrong...***Written by Alex Grey***Presented by: Tales of Thattown (https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/tales-of-thattown/id1084928542?mt=2)***Sound design by: Jesse 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 creepy pastures 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. Creepy presents the 31 days of horror. Day 13. Shatter. Written by listener Alex Gray.

She could have sworn she'd turned off the television set before she'd gone to bed the night before. Her brow furrowed as she stood in front of it, stooping down, moving closer. Something definitely didn't seem right. Her mother wasn't up yet, so it couldn't have been her. And she definitely remembered switching it off. She felt drawn in. Her breath swirled out to meet the static. It left a steamy circle behind,

the static prickling back against her lips with a tingling sensation. She dragged her teeth over her lips to stop the tickle, blinking softly and straightening herself up again. Her gaze changed to a gradual stare as she looked at the screen for a full five minutes. That's what it happened. The screen looked fluid. Screwing her eyes shut and blinking rapidly. She tried to clear her sight thinking her eyes were playing tricks with her.

She'd been staring for so long. It had to be the same sensation she felt as a kid when she sat too close to the set. She tried to look away but felt a flash of pain behind her eyes and her attempt. A single soft ripple moved outward from the same. center, moving slowly toward the edges, only to disappear. She leaned in again, raising her right hand slowly, reaching out to the screen, her fingertips feeling the static millimeters away. Her hair, as yet unkempt and a little fluffed up, reached toward the static like fine tendrils twisting to wrap around something. It grabbed her, begin with a sharp pinching sensation in her hand,

trickling its way up her arm. It was viciously cold, and she panicked. Her breath quickening, turning into a strangled whimper. It crept painfully up her shoulder. Her skin tightened and draining of all color. It moved up toward her face, oozing across her jawline and up to her lips. She was completely rigid with fear,

unable to move or make a sound for help. Her lips parted and cracked in a silent scream. The teeth in her mouth shattering like tiny crystals, each feeling like burning needles driven deep inside her. Blood built and seeped over her graying lids, trickling down her chin and onto her nightdress. The blood vessels in her nose exploded, pissing down over her feet and onto the carpet. She tried to look down, but her eyes were frozen in their sockets. Ritching up for her eyes, the irises turned to stark white. sucking the life from her pupils to leave nothing but a glassy stare.

More blood spilled over her face as the capillaries broke, leaving bloody tears running over her seemingly lifeless skin. She stood completely motionless, a stiffening statue with every molecule in her form freezing and twisting. It continued to move down the other side of her body, pinching and biting all over. the static ripping more of her into its field. It finally took control of her completely, pulling her into its void.

She could hear thousands of screaming voices old and young alike all clawing at her mind relentlessly. Her eardrums ruptured and joined the other streams of blood coursing over her body. The pain was horrific, and it only seemed to build. From the other side of the screen she could see her blood from the carpet pool together, lose its color, and seep upwards into the screen to join her. It was as if she was never there, and she was completely gone to the world, part of the white noise on screen.

Something shifted in her throat, and she let out a piercing scream. It sounded like someone tearing nails down a blackboard, and with every scream came a splatter of blood, draining of color, and settling on screen. Feeling an overwhelming presence behind her, she turned round and saw thousands of bodies in the same state, reaching out with their cracked skin and shrieking voices. She screamed again, turning back to the screen,

pounding her fists against it. The creek of a door upstairs signaled the arrival of her mother, who padded softly down to the living room. Frustrated and terrified, she banged harder, desperately trying to scream for help. All that came was blood and that sickening, shrieking. She watched in horror as her mother picked up the remote, shook her head, and turned off the set. She obviously didn't hear her. Tales of That Town is an audio drama that lampoons the South and the Supernatural.

But unlike most media that goes after the subject, we actually live in the South. If you're a fan of Nightmare Beasts, Paints, Methodal Vampires, Kudzu Monsters, or Conventions for Magical Fote, check out Tales of That Town. Fair warning, we say fuck. A lot. 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.

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