Day 14 - Judgement House & The River Children
00:00I'm John Grills from Creepy, and I listen to the Be Afraid Podcast Network.Creepy presents the 31 Days of Horror.Day 14.Now, this is creepy.A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous, chilling and disturbing creepy pastors and urban legends in the world.Whether these stories truly happened or not simply fabrications is for you to decide.These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language.Listener discretion is advised.
00:59Hey, Nate, have you noticed John acting kind of weird lately?You really need to be more specific.Do you mean that total meltdown he seemed to have at the radio station over the winter?No.How about his weird paranoid behavior at camp with the booby traps and stuff?No, I think I kind of tried to forget about that.I meant more about this October.Being here.
01:25Spending a fortune to get us all here.I mean, I wasn't exactly the most fiscally sound choice, but it's 2026.Is anyone really thinking about the future?Sure.I get that, actually.But I was thinking more about his general behavior.since being here.It seems like in the mornings he's in a great mood.
01:46Then we see him at night and he's all emo and drinking.Well, we do meet at a bar to tell stories.Yeah, I guess.I don't know.Maybe I'm being stupid.It's just...It's just hard to relax when we all get together.Pretty much, yeah.
02:06I wouldn't worry about it too much.These things tend to work themselves out.eventually. You're not worried at all? Of course I am, but I've learned to enjoy myself as much aspossible. Speaking of which, you're up to tell a story tonight, aren't you? Yeah, I am, but I'm not sureabout it. It's kind of intense. Ooh, what's it called? Judgment House. I think about that night a lot.The night where everything changed. Growing up in the deep south, a lot ofcommunities have what is called a judgment house. If you're unfamiliar with it, think of it as a hauntedhouse but Christian-oriented. I think nowadays most churches stick with trunk or treat, but when I was
02:58growing up, the judgment house was all the rage. Basically, a church in your town or a town nearbywould convert their church in the surrounding buildings into a multi-stage horror attraction. Instead ofPsycho-Killers or ghosts, though, they would present different scenarios to young kids and teens.The scenarios would vary, but always tended to be something like,Joe decided to disobey his parents, went to a party, then died in the car while his friends drove drunk.Or, Christy met up with a stranger online who kidnapped her,if only she had listened to her youth pastor's message on staying faithful till marriage.You get the gist.
03:41They would show these poorly acted scenes and explain the biblical message behind where ourmisfortune protagonist went wrong.The second to last set would be hell, which was usually a dark room with red lights, a smokemachine, and the previous characters begging you to stay true to God and not make the samemistakes they made.The guide would then take you to the final area.Any takers on what it was?Of course, it was heaven.
04:11This too is usually set up the same in most churches.It would be the sanctuary, dawned with gold and white cloth, a different smoke machine, and a bright light set up near the front, while God or an angel spoke.Now, not to dog on Christianity. That's not my intention here. I have no issues with whatever religion you practice.My criticism goes towards scare tactics that are widely popular in a lot of churches, at least the ones I've been to.I understand that God is all powerful, all loving, and all vengeful.But instead of some youth pastors speaking with teens about practical solutions on how to navigate growing up,some would rather pack the kids up in the van and have someone basically say,if you mess up, even one time, you're damned to hell for all eternity.
05:09But I digress.Sorry if I'm a bit cynical, but maybe you'll understand after you hear my story.It was October my junior year of high school in the mid-2000s.Social media was just becoming super popular.Phones and MP3 players came separate.And in my rural town, there weren't many options for entertainment.I went to church every Wednesday and Sunday, read my Bible every day, did volunteer work,tried to live a pure life.
05:41It also helped that all my friends also went to church to socialize.So when our youth pastor announced that the church wanted to take us to a new judgment housethat had opened up 45 minutes away, we were pumped.It was going to be a Saturday night, which made it even better.My friend Shiloh planned on spinning the night so she could come to church with me on Sunday.The big day came and we all loaded up in our church's vans, about 20 kids and two adult chaperones,our youth pastor, whom we called Brother Matthew, and his wife, Anne.This judgment house was new, set in a little rural community that I'd never been to,
06:21between our town and the next big town.The drive there, the teens in my van were jamming out to the latest Christian rock compilation CD that Brother Matthew had just bought.When we finally arrived, I remembered I was slightly confusedbecause there were only two other cars in the parking lot,not other vans and buses of other churches.We all piled out of the vans and excitedly made our way up to the front of the church,where a tall lithe man stood.The church itself was picturesque,
06:53a standard wide exterior with a steeple on top.I don't remember any other buildings being around.The man introduced him,himself as Brother Michael and shook Brother Matthew's hand. Brother Michael seemed excited,happily telling us that their church only did one youth group at a time, to make the experienceall the more personal and impactful. When we were ready, he ushered us inside to a vestibulebefore taking us to a door to our left. Upon entering, there were low lights in the floor,almost like a movie theater, just enough to see where you were going, but not enough
07:31to make out much of anything else.Further Michael led us to the center of what seemed like a surprisingly spacious room.He held up a light to his face as he faced our group and began to explain the scene.The room suddenly lit up to reveal what seemed to be a pool party.I remember thinking they went all out.Maybe they had a really big baptism pool they converted for this act?There was a group of 20 teens.The party seemed like it had been going on for quite a while before this
08:01point. Empty cans of alcohol were scattered, along with small red plastic shot glasses.Music was bumping through the boombox that had been brought outside. The teens were mostlyscattered in different little groups. Some laughing, some looking glassy-eyed from inebriation,some making out. What stood out to me, though, was a girl, sitting alone, nursing a drink andsitting near the edge of the pool. From this distance, she almost looked at her.looked like Amanda, a girl that had drowned in the nearby lake last summer. It was so surreal,hearing about this sophomore from my school dying like that. When you're that young,unless certain tragedies had happened to you, the concept of death didn't seem like much.
08:50It changes when it's someone near your age that you had seen in passing. This girl, the teen thatlooked like Amanda, looked miserable. Voices started to care.through the chatter. I had guessed from them turning the actor's mics on. It was two guys,clearly drunk and clearly up to no good. They started discussing a prank that they wanted toplay, to liven up the dwindling party. The prank involved grabbing the Amanda look-alike,hoisting her like they were going to throw her in the deep end, make her scream and cry a little,just to embarrass her, and get a laugh from everyone else. The two guys approached theAmanda, wobbly but undetected due to the music.
09:35Actor Amanda looked up at the last second, but they were able to grab her anyways.One of them grabbed her arms while the other lifted her by her legs, dangling her betweenthem like a human hammock.Amanda screamed, which caused everyone to look and start laughing along with the tormentors.As they swung her, the guy holding her arms must have slipped, causing him to drop her.Amanda's head hit the ground with a crack, causing everyone to pause.The other guy, the one that had her legs, panicked, throwing her legs away from him, causing her body to slowly slide in the pool.Everyone else was frozen, looks varying from shocked, frightened, and surprisingly, amusement.
10:24One girl, who looked almost like Caitlin from my English class, ran forward.screaming that they needed to help Amanda, make sure she isn't dead or unconscious and drowning.The guy who had held Amanda's arms caught Caitlin, throwing her back.He looked stressed, saying that there was nothing else they could do for her,and that they needed to clean this mess up before they all got in trouble.Some went to protest, attempting to find their discarded phones,but Moore started to join in with his thinking.If they were to call for help now, they would.
10:59would all be in trouble, possibly jail time. All the alcohol everywhere, the faint smell ofweed in the air. There's no way the cops would ever write this off as the accident that it was.Did they really want to throw away their futures for a girl who's already dead?Meanwhile, while they discussed this, Amanda was bleeding and twitching in the pool.I couldn't believe my eyes. This was way too technical for a church.Too realistic, too diabolical.The teens decided to take a sheet, load the body into one of their trucks, and dump her in the lake.Not even Caitlin fought anymore. She just stared wide-eyed at a spot in the ground, silently crying.
11:49It was at that time, I glanced at the real Caitlin.It must have been freaky to have an actor in that scene that looked almost exactly like her.When I finally spotted her, she stood, stock still, watching the scene before her, pale-facedand stunned.The scene slowly faded to black, our last glimpse being some of the guys loading the bodyinto the bed of a truck.Several people in our group were sobbing.Some were nervously chuckling, but mostly there was just silence.
12:26We stood in the dark for a moment.no one daring to move.When a lone light came back on,Brother Michael stood before the group,a Cheshire grin on his face.He clapped his hands together before speaking.He explained that,if only poor Amanda had true friends,
12:47if only she had not been shrouded from God,this could have all been avoided.Caitlin, the real Caitlin,tumbled to the ground,Her body heaving with sobs.A couple of other girls from the youth group were also sobbing,looking between where the scene had been and Caitlin.Brother Matthew stepped over to Caitlin to console her,
13:12but she hurled herself away from his touch, as if he had tased her.Caitlin began screaming at no one in particular that she was sorry, so sorry,that she had been scared and made a mistake.My stomach dropped.There was no way that what we had seen was real.It was an elaborate set, a bit too graphic, but completely fake.Brother Michael began to laugh at her broken cries, though.He said that she was only sorry that it was now coming to light.
13:48Brother Matthew went to Brother Michael, his fists bawled up, demanding an explanation.Brother Michael never lost his smile, though, stating,that his church's mission was to expose sin, to make people repent.Brother Matthew's wife, Anne, cried out with tears streaking her face that we were leaving.Anne went to try the door we had came through, but there was nothing there.Brother Michael chuckled and explained that we were just starting the event, and that we had to see it through to the end, as it is the Lord's will.There were cries and protest, but Mike.Michael just walked towards an open door and beckoned us forward.
14:32We tried to resist, several people pulling out cell phones to try and contact the outside world,while some others used it as a light to search for an exit, but it came to nothing.Nothing else was present on the walls, no doors or windows, and there was no reception for our phones.One by one, we reluctantly trudged onwards.This room was the same as before, as far as having small guiding lights in the floor.None of us wanted to see what was next, though a few people, myself included, continued thinkingthat this had to be an elaborate scheme, to really scare teens straight and make us live wholeheartedly for the Lord.Michael eventually took his place at the front of the group, but did not give any explanation.
15:23He just simply waved his hand like he was making a grand introductionas the lights came on to reveal the next scene.It showed an office with various pictures and posters adorning the wood panel walls.A combo TV DVD player sitting on an entertainment systemacross from a cloth couch with floral patternand a man sitting in a chair behind a computer at a desk.The room was slightly shadowed so we couldn't see the man.But we could hear him typing at the computer and occasionally breathing heavy.
15:59Michael finally broke, stating that the greatest sins of man are his thoughts.The light on the scene blinked out, and when it came back on, the room was lit by a couple of lamps.There was a collective gasp because the man was now in full view, and he looked an awful lot like Brother Matthew.This man was seated on the couch with a young boy, barely looked older than 18, if that.Something was playing on the TV screen, but we couldn't hear what was being played.Brother Matthew looked completely relaxed, watching the screen.But every now and then, glancing at the young boy, who looked nervous but was trying to hide it.When the man spoke, there was no denying it.
16:51It was, Brother Matthew.There was no faking that, no acting, just a real memory,something that had existed in the not-so-distant past.Brother Matthew told him to relax,that what they were watching wasn't unnatural,just something guys did to release some steam,to help themselves stay strong enough until marriage.He placed his hand on the boy's upper thigh,
17:18and I could no longer watch.Eventually, the lights flooded back on, revealing Michael with that eerily easy grin, his gaze towards Matthew.Matthew's eyes were hardened, demanding to know what kind of sick joke this was.Why this church would spread lies and slander against him.Anne stood beside Matthew, looking devastated, before cautiously taking a couple of steps away from him.She stood there, shaking, before quietly speaking.It started as a trickle before more and more words left her mouth, increasing in desperation,saying, how could you?
18:04How could you do something so vile in our home to Anthony?Is that why we moved here?You said it was for a fresh start, that when Anthony killed himself,you wanted to get the kids away from there and start a new ministry,and prevent more kids from doing that to themselves.Matthew just stood there,not looking ashamed or distraught,but angry.
18:31Angry that he'd been caught?Angry that she dared question him?I couldn't tell.He tried to grab her arms,but she slipped from his grasp before slapping him.Michael watched on.His grin never slipping.A few of the guys from our group grabbed Brother Matthew and dragged him away from Anne,
18:55while Anne sank to the floor in tears.I remember feeling sick.How could everything be happening like this?I trusted Matthew.He had our youth group at his house for barbecues, sleep-ins, Bible study.To know that this had happened.Probably multiple times.to know that a sick creep like him was hiding in our community.
19:21It made me sick.I'm not sure how long our group stayed in this room,dealing with the fallout.But eventually, Michael stepped to the next door,and we once again followed, eager to escape this room.The next few rooms were a blur,each one revealing a twisted, dark secret that someone in the group kept.Sarah was drinking and driving and hit a woman crossing the street.
19:51I remember she had come to school the next week with a new car,claiming the other one got wrecked from hitting a deer.Justin had been watching his baby brother,who just wouldn't stop crying,and just left him on a bed in another room.The baby rolled off and hit his head, alive,but we'll have problems for the rest of his life,written off as an accident.
20:16Michael was always there, his grin never fading, just casually explaining the lesson of each room,like it was another Tuesday for him.After what seemed like too many rooms, too many vile acts, Michael clapped his hands as the last scene faded.He asked if we were ready for the grand finale.Our group, broken, dried tears on our faces, just the last.looked at him. I'd gone numb a couple of rooms before this, but I could feel a ball of anxietystarting to form within me. If this twisted judgment house followed the same pattern, that wouldmean that the hell scenario was next. The rooms were already bad enough, but if hell was as
21:07realistic and horrible as they had been, I thought this was it. I was terrified of hell. That's onereason I believed in my faith as hard as I did. I would have rather died right there on the spotand claimed my heavenly home, rather than experience the heated damnation of hell. Death did not claimme, though. So my choices were limited to staying in this room until I died a slow death,or going to the next room and praying it would end quickly. Our group filed through the open doorwaybeside Michael. And once we were all inside, the door shut with a slam. There were no guiding lightsin the floor, no screaming, no heat, no Michael. We just stood in what seemed like a void.I quickly lost track of who was next to me, leaving me alone in every sense of the word.
22:05I could not feel anything, no air against my skin.could not see anything. All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing and the bloodcoursing through my veins. And even then, that seemed muffled somehow, like my ears were stuffedwith cotton. I'm not sure how long I stood like that, if I was even standing at all. All therewas was me, this void, and nothing else. My group didn't exist. The outside world.didn't exist. There was nothing. There had always been nothing. Then the screaming started.A quiet chorus of screams, rising in pitch and volume, crashing against me like a wave.I joined the screams, desperate to be part of something, anything, my voice sounding inhuman to me.
23:05Along with the screams, my eyes slowly began to perceive, pin-trial.pricks of light. It was almost like stars, until I realized that they were eyes. Thousands,possibly millions of white eyes, varying in size, all wide-eyed staring at me through me.Along with my screams, I began to laugh, a horrible cry of a laugh, as the eyes began to getbrighter and brighter, shining as brightly as the sun. I could feel my eyes burn, unable to lookaway, still howling and laughing until... I woke up on the ground. I could feel dirt underneath me,ants crawling on my arms, a warmth on my skin that felt foreign. I didn't dare open my eyes yet,afraid of what fresh layer of hell we had been taken to.
24:08Maybe I was dead.Finally, dead.Buried deep in the warm earth.Finally away from that wretched church.Finally, at peace.But then I heard others crying, some screaming.And I warily cracked my eyes open.I was outside.
24:33The sun filtered through the pecan tree leaves just after daybreak.I slowly sat up, shaking the ants and dirt from my arms, as I took in the sight before me.Most of the group were scattered around me, some still laying there, but breathing.Others were sobbing, and some weren't breathing at all.Anne sat next to Matthew, crimson lines that had flowed down his arms at one point,Now clawed.A few flies buzzed around his glossy eyes.And Anne just sat there, looking down at him.
25:13Anne shakily got to her feet before spitting on Matthew's bodyand walking towards those of us who made it and were awake.Those of us who were left slowly made our way through the shaded woods.No one spoke.We looked like we had just came back from war.Our downtrodded faces and thou'clock.yards stairs looking straight ahead as we walked.After some time, we stumbled out of the woods and into a clearing.
25:42There were police cars everywhere and several frantic parents.Our church vans stood where it had been parked.But the church...The church was there.But it looked like it hadn't been an occupied building for decades.The roof had patches in it.Some of the filthy stained glass windows were broken.the front door hanging on by one hinge.
26:07Things moved quickly after that.What was left of our group was quickly rushed to the next town's hospital.The doctors treated us and were confused by our state of being.Almost all of us showed signs of dehydration,like we hadn't had water for two days.Random self-inflicted scratches lined our arms,various other wounds here and there depending on the person.The police interrogated Anne,
26:37who said that Matthew had taken his lifeafter taking our group to the woods under false pretensesto live out a sick fantasy.Police checked Matthew's computer,and while the church tried to sweep it under the rug,it came to light just how much of a monster he really was,how many teens and young adults he had forced to do things with him.Some of us tried to explain the truth of what happened that night, but it was chocked up to our brains experiencing something traumatic, that we made up something even worse to try and make sense of everything, something over the top.
27:15As you can imagine, my life has changed dramatically since that night.I spent a very long time trying to forget that night, speaking with therapists and trying all sorts of pills.But you never really forget, do you?Something as fucked up as that.It lingers.Maybe not always at the forefront of your thoughts.But it's always there.Just below the surface.
27:44And all it takes is one little reminder to send you straight back to whatever situation you're trying to forget.All the other teens in my group that appeared in those scenarios confessed to their crimes,shortly afterwards.At almost all of their trials, they prayed that they were forgiven and that God had not abandonedthem, that they did the right thing in the end.Even still, a couple of them still ended up killing themselves afterwards, leaving behind suicidenotes that made sense to no one but the ones that were there that night.Anne went on to speak against the churches that hired Matthew and started a program for kids
28:26and teens that teaches them the warning signs of grooming and how to keep themselves safe.Some of us are still in contact with each other, trauma bonded for life.And every now and then we get together to try and keep the thoughts away,uplifting each other as much as we can.As you can imagine, I left the church.I still believe in a higher power, but I can't set foot in a church.not after seeing what I saw.Some might argue that that was the devil's plan all along,
29:01to get me to turn away from God.I can't explain everything I experienced that night.It was all so horrible.But that last room, the void,it makes me shiver to think of it.Because I don't know if that was supposed to be heaven, hell,or just the truth of what comes after we die.I'm not sure.
29:27I just know that one day, I'll find out.Hey, John, been looking all over for you.Why?Um, weird.Anyway, it's a beautiful day.I can't believe how warm it is right now.We wanted to go out to the beach, but it's already packed,so we were thinking about tubing on the real...
30:00No.Okay.I guess we will see you later.I mean, no, don't go tubing.People around here don't go tubing on this river, ever.Why?The river children.The children around here started talking about the river school
30:20sometime back in the 1950s,though there's no real way to know exactly when.Like most childhood rumors, the adults dismissed it at first.Parents overheard bits and pieces around playgrounds,the dinner table, or while helping with home.Teachers saw drawings depicting classrooms beneath dark water.Guidance counselors occasionally read essays describing children attending lessons under the river after sunset.Nobody thought anything more than kids using their imaginations.
30:50Of course, the details remain disturbingly consistent across the generations.The way it was told by their grandparents, was told by their parents, was told by them,by them, without the sorts of expected embellishments and omissions that usually happen when astory's passed down for that long. According to the stories, another school existed beneath theriver that curves around town and feeds the lake. The new lake, not the other one anymore.This school wasn't hidden inside tunnels or caves. The river itself supposedly drained away at night,revealing rows of desks, arranged across the exposed riverbed while drowned children gathered there forclasses until dawn.
31:33It was one specific reason that unsettled adults.There have been some cases of kids drowning in their river over the years,and kids making up stories about those events just didn't sit right,with the parents still alive to remember their kids passing.There wasn't anything special about the river,but the currents shifted unpredictably at times,enough so that no one bothered to fish there unless it was off the bridge.No one wanted to risk filling their waiters and being dragged
32:01into a watery grave.Sincles occasionally opened near the banks, too.Naturally, as children do, tragedies turned into stories.The drowned kids attended the river school.They returned every night, and according to the stories,the waters were so cold and dark and lonelythat these kids desperately wanted more classmates.Most parents ignored the rumors and told children
32:27began describing details they shouldn't have known.A second grade teacher once reported students drawing almost photorealistic pictures of desksarranged across the riverbed.Legs sunk into the mud alongside rusted bells hanging beneath bridge supports.Several children independently drew attendance sheets pinned to driftwood with fishing hooks.Rosters that exactly matched classes where a student had gone missing,with the name of the missing kid in question scratched out.When asked about it, the students always react to.
33:01the same way. Confused. Like, there should be no question as to why or how they drew it,regardless of their previously shown levels of drawing talent. It was just a drawing. That wasas concrete of an answer as anyone ever got. The story spread throughout town so completelythat parents eventually stopped any discussion of them, especially around children.It seemed like the very mention of the river school or the river children, or even just the river,would encourage discussion and spark a new round of obsession,leading kids to wandering near the river after dark,hoping to catch a glimpse of a drained riverbed.
33:39There were even claims of lights moving beneath the water very late at night,and it was chalked up to imagination.Because what else could it be?As much as this town remembers,it sure tries hard to act like it forgets.Then a series of seemingly related disappearances started.The first confirmed case involved a nine-year-old named Evan Morrow in 1977.His parents woke before dawn to find muddy footprints crossing his bedroom floor beneath an open window.
34:13Police initially suspected sleepwalking.Search teams eventually discovered Evan sitting beside the river several hours later,soaking wet and suffering from severe hypothermia.When asked what happened, he couldn't remember anything.Doctors called it shock or exposure, but the boy's behavior changed permanently.Evan stopped responding to his own name.During school, he would just sit there, staring out the window in the direction of the river.His teacher eventually found a crumpled up piece of paper under his desk with a sloppily written list of names.
34:49The names of children who had gone missing before Evan was even born.Over the following decade or so, more incidents happened intermittently.Children vanished during the night before returning soaked and withdrawn.Several developed an intense fear of running water.Others became obsessed with classroom attendance and routines.One girl supposedly suffered a panic attack at the very idea of being marked absent from class.Another insisted that an empty desk in a room should remain untouched because they belonged to the students still underwater.Then came Martin Vale.
35:28Martin lived with his 11-year-old daughter, Lucy, in a narrow house overlooking the northern stretch of the river.His wife had actually drowned five years earlier, after losing control of her car during a particularly bad rainstorm.The vehicle crashed through a barrier and disappeared into the overflowing river before rescue crews could arrive.Lucy never recovered and withdrew into herself.Teachers described her less as trouble than more as exhausted.Following the accident, Martin often heard movement from a room late at night.Soft scraping noises like furniture dragged slowly across the floor.But every time he checked on her, she appeared to be asleep.
36:10Then she started talking about the river school.Nothing dramatic, just small comments that would get dropped into mundane conversations.Complaints about difficult lessons and how hard it was to write underwater.mentions of children with swollen faces who had to sit at the back of class because they smelled too much like rotten fish.Martin did what lots of parents would do in that situation.He told himself it was just grief.Then the drawings started.Lucy had hidden a thick stack of them under her mattress.
36:46Dozens of them.Every page depicting the same impossible location, just from slightly different angles.Rows of desks stretched across an exposed riverbed, while walls of dark water flanked them on the sides.Children sat beneath floodlights had hovered over their heads.Some kids looked normal, but others.It was hard to tell looking at the child's drawing.The longer a person looked at it, the more unnerved they became.Just little details that seem to appear that set the pictures off.
37:21Most couldn't look at them for more than a few seconds before finding a reason to put them down,usually face down, so the images would be hidden.At the center of every drawing stood a teacher, tall, dressed in black, face always obscured,usually scratched out.When Martin asked her about the pictures, she seemed genuinely confused and got frustratedtrying to explain what she assumed adults should just know.Martin double-checked to make sure all the doors and windows in the house were locked.Still, in the middle of the night, he woke to the sound of footsteps moving upstairs.
37:59At first he assumed it was just Lucy walking to the bathroom.But he'd been on edge all night, barely managing any sleep until that point.So he got up to check on her, but stopped the moment he saw muddy footprints on the carpet leading out the front door.On instinct he rushed up the stairs to see her door was open.Her room was empty.Then he noticed that it wasn't just one set of footprints, but several.All small.Even smaller than muses.
38:30The footprints let out the door.Of course, in the direction of the riverbank.Later on, Martin struggled to explain why he followed the footprints instead of calling the police.Shock, maybe.A father's fear.He crossed the backyard carrying only a flashlight from the junk drawer, while the smell of river water grew stronger.That time of year, the river should have been at its highest level.Instead, the riverbed lay exposed.
39:00Not low, not drought conditions.Empty.Walls of black water stood impossibly on either side of the riverbed like gently shifting walls.The exposed mud below stretched beneath the bridge illuminated by a dim yellow line.lights that Martin thought were fireflies at first, but they didn't move.They were too large.Across the riverbed sat desks.Dozens.
39:25Hundreds.Small wooden school desks arranged in perfect rows, disappearing endlessly into the darknessbeneath the bridge.Some appeared ancient and swollen from water damage.Others looked newer.Rusted lunchboxes rested beside several chairs.Children's shoes lay empty and untimely.between rows. The desks weren't empty, at least not all of them. And among them, Lucy sat near the
39:55front row. She sat perfectly still, staring toward the front of the classroom with her hands folded neatlyatop the desk. Around her sat to other children in varying stages of decay. Some look pale,but otherwise normal. Others appeared horribly disfigured from prolonged submersion. Othersstared forward through empty sockets packed tightly with mud.None of them moved.None of them looked toward the riverbank or Martin.Every child faced the teacher standing at the front of the class.There it stood.
40:30Just like the pictures, it was tall with dripping wet black clothes.Something about it made it hard for Martin to understand its proportions.Water seemed to stream continuously from beneath its sleeves,dripping onto paper scattered around it.Attendance sheets.Piles of them.Lucy slowly turned toward him.Water started to pour from her mouth.
40:57Martin never clearly remembered what happened next.A witness later reported hearing screamingfrom beneath the bridge before dawn.Police discovered Martin wandering nearby several hours later,soaked completely through and suffering severe shock.Lucy was never found.Investigators searching Martin's house later discovered muddy footprints exactly where he described them.Water damage spread through the upstairs despite no plumbing leaks existing anywhere in the structure.
41:28Most disturbing of all were the desks.Small wooden desks had appeared throughout the house overnight.One sat inside Lucy's closet, another blocked the basement stairs.Several more faced walls inside.empty rooms. Each desk contained a neatly folded attendance slip. Every paper had only one name on it.Lucy Bale. Next to it was a check mark. Present. It's been a long time, but children around herestill whisper about the river school. And every few years another child vanishes briefly beforereturning soaked and distant, unable to explain where they're gone.
42:14Lest you think that the town doesn't care about missing children, efforts were made.Not just from the police, but from search teams and survey crews who inspected the bridge itself.It was a survey crew that found the strangest discovery anyone could verify.Buried in the mud were hundreds of school desks, ranging back a hundred years.Most were to decayed to identify properly.But several still contained attendance slips.every one having just a single name on them,the name of a different missing child,
42:49and everyone had been marked present.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 common 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 story's author.
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