Creepy - Day 15 - Moonface

Episode Date: October 15, 2018

The circus is supposed to bring job, right?***Check out more from the Aftershocks podcast at: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/aftershocks/id1358156930?mt=2***Please consider supporting the podcast at Patreon.com/Creepypod or creepypod.com/support***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQ3SrH_3fsROXFAjomKcUtw***Produced by Pacific Obadiah***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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This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastas 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 to fictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Creepy presents. The 31 Days of Horror.

Day 15. Moonface. Every night I had nightmares of that figure. That horrid entity, that frozen smile pasted on his face. I've remembered him for as long as I could remember. Every time I had that nightmare, I would wake up drenched in sweat, panting and trembling. I can still remember a time before all of this had happened, however. It was all so long ago.

Many years ago, when I was only a little boy, I loved visiting the circus. Every year the circus would come into town and my mother would often date me there. And I'd have a blast watching the jugglers, clowns, acrobatts, and times. Liger's. Watching the entertainers with their vast array of skills and athletic prowess almost made me feel as if the circus were a magical place. So as usual, when I'd heard that the circus was coming to town yet again, I naturally became very excited. Unfortunately, my mother had informed me that she could not attend this year. Despite this, my mother knew how much I loved the circus. So she managed to coax my older sister, who was a teenager at the time, into taking me.

To be honest, I don't think my sister enjoyed my presence very much. She was very rebellious and didn't get along with my parents. She treated me very poorly as well. My mother only enticed her to take me because she paid her. regardless I was only a child at the time and I was oblivious to these harsh realities of life

I honestly didn't care who'd be my chaperone to the circus I just wanted to have fun the day we left for the circus was a lovely ball day if memory serves me right I recall the day being beautiful not too hot or too cold

and that wasn't a cloud in the sky I can remember seeing that large red and yellow striped tent in the large align clamoring excited children and parents. I clutched my sister's hand as we stood in line. I slowly looked around at all the kids. They all looked so cheerful and happy, chattering about all the performances they were hoping to see. I noticed one of the look real eating a pink puffy ball of cotton candy. I tugged on my sister's jacket. Sis?

She looked down at me with an annoyed expression spread over her face. What? I pointed at the girl. Can you buy me some cotton candy? Please. She suddenly made a confused face as if I'd ask something absurd. Are you nuts? I'm not spending my money on that.

We're just here to watch the freaks and leave. She then turned away from me. I frowned a bit and looked down to the ground. It wasn't a bold request, but I cheered up when I remembered that I was at the circus to see all of its wonders. Finally, after a while, we were next in line for our tickets. I looked up with my sister again. This time she had her headphones on.

This was several years back, so she was listening to her personal stereo. To get her attention once again, I took her attention. tugged down her jacket. She pulled out one headphone and groaned. What do you want now? She inquired angrily. Look, sis. He said, smiling and pointing at the ticket vendor.

We're next. Hurry, buy our tickets. My sister rolled her eyes. Pulled out the money and handed it to the vendor. The vendor handed us our tickets, smiled, and said, Enjoy the show, you two. Yeah, thanks. Outer of my sisters, we both entered the large tent and took our seats.

We both sat down in the front row. A lot of other kids were running around, laughing, cheering with her siblings, friends, and parents. I looked over at my sister, who had her head leaned back in her chair with her headphones on. I tapped her on the shoulder, and her eyes shot open in anger. She ripped off her headphones and said, If you bother me, when I have my headphones on one more time, Isn't this fun, sis? I asked her, smiling, hoping to get a more kind response.

No, stupid, it isn't. I hate this place. I'm only here because Mom made me. Now shut the hell up and wake me up when this crap is over. She put her headphones back on. Made her head back once again and closed her eyes. I swallowed a lump in my throat and sunk into my seat, saddened by her words.

I never understood what she had against me. I only wanted her to have fun with me. I just sat there quietly as I watched the other kids playing and having the time of their lives. And that was when I noticed something in the corner of my eye. To my sister's left, there was a dark room that I'd never seen before. What was even more puzzling was that I saw a glowing pair of white eyes in the shadows. I turned around to see if any other kids noticed it, but they didn't. I looked back at the room where the glowing white eyes were, but they were gone.

For reasons, I cannot understand. I felt like they were beckoning me, as if I needed to follow them. I looked at my sister. You still had her eyes closed with her headphones in. I slowly got out of my chair and made my way into the dark. room. Inside I saw nothing but pitch blackness. I could only see a small light on the ceiling with a chain attached to it acting as a light switch. I stood on my tiptoes and pulled on it. The light was dim, but at least it was better than being in the dark. I observed my surroundings.

I noticed that there was a long, narrow hall. I thought maybe this was a place strictly for authorized personnel. The walls of the hall are taken. few posters of old circus performers and side-show freaks dating back to the 1920s, which were drawn by hand, and it most certainly weren't alive anymore. I slowly began walking down the hall, studying the posters in her designs. As I ventured further in, the sounds of the children slowly died away, and it began getting eerily quiet. I then turned to the left as the hall led me to another area. It was an old storage room filled with old outdated prout. There were old dusty mannequins, clowns and ballerinas with large, lifeless grins on their faces.

There were statues of horses that were taken out of merry-go-round that didn't function properly anymore. And old black and white photographs of old performers. I slowly scanned the area, and I saw my reflection in a mirror that had accumulated its fissure or dust. It had a few cracks here and there. It was otherwise a perfectly good mirror. As I studied it for a moment, I saw a few feet behind me, those glowing pair of white eyes. Except this time, I could almost make out a body, even though the figure was hidden in the shadows. It quickly hid behind the wall of the hallway.

I whirled around to get a glimpse of it, but by the time I looked it wasn't there. I just stood there for a moment and then I had thought it would be best to get to my sister before she noticed I was gone just as I was on my way out I heard something it sounded like music a very faint music

to be honest I recognized that it was the tune of the dance of the sugar plum fairy I heard it all the time during Christmas but where was it coming from? There were no jukeboxes or radios in sight. This may sound strange, but if I didn't know any better,

I'd say it was playing inside of my head. I exited the storage room with that haunting little tune still playing. I looked to my left and there I saw it. Those glowing white eyes and that shadowy figure this time they were down the hall I felt the need to follow it for some reason

so I ran down the hall chasing it when I was halfway down the hall the music suddenly stopped I don't know why and when I reached the end of the hall where I'd seen the creature run off to as I stopped to catch my breath the music started up again only this time it was much louder than before what I saw sitting in the middle of the room

I know I'll never forget It was a tall, thin man sitting on a bench with his legs crossed, one ankle resting on top of the other leg's knee. He had his hands together. Each hand's fingers going through the space of the other hand. He had on a black and white tuxedo with a bow tie and a rose pinned on it. And he wore very well-polished dress shoes. Despite this man's very formal appearance, I noticed something very wrong with him. At first I thought it was just a poor lighting in the room.

And then I thought he was wearing some kind of mask that covered his whole head. The man's head had the appearance of a pale crescent moon. I wrote my eyes to verify whether or not my eyes were playing tricks on me. The eyes were correct. This moon-headed man had a razor, sharp-pointed nose, an enormous toothy grin spread across his face. And his eyes were wide. gleeful and glowing that ghost white color. I couldn't believe it.

Was I dreaming all of this? I couldn't be. Surely I wasn't. His eyes were fixated in the wall in front of him, at nothingness, with that frozen smile still there. I contemplated on saying something, calling out to him. But something told me I shouldn't, almost as if he could hear my thoughts. His moon-shaped head slowly began creaking towards me in a slow, tedious manner.

Our eyes finally met. His soulless, glowing white eyes remained anchored on mine. His grin never fading. Should I run away? Should I talk to him? After a grueling minute, I mustered up some courage, and my timid little voice joked out, Who are you? For another second or two of the moonhead.

a man didn't utter a word. He just sat there, still with that spine-chilling smile on his face. Then, in a whispery voice that was reminiscent of a snake's hiss, he answered, that reason, called this bizarre entity, Moomface. As soon as Moonface said it, he shot up from the bench. He's even thinner than he initially appeared, skeletally thin, and very tall as well. I began to get very nervous. I still began backing away.

But then, in a way, I'll never understand. The long face began hovering in the air in a very disturbing fashion. As he slowly glided his way towards me, his movements reminded me of a snake slithering through the air. He did one last loop before landing a few feet in front of me. Still with that haunting smile on his twisted face. I stood there, shaking as I stared at this supernatural stranger before me. Faced ended those words. Moonface began slowly walking towards me with his hands outstretched.

It was there that I noticed he had long black claws protruding from his fingertips. He handed those words, his eyes began glowing even brighter. By now I was becoming scared out of my wets. I slowly began walking backwards again when suddenly I felt enough. Lifeless, plastic hand, land on my shoulder. And I glanced up to see the mannequins. Previously, lifeless dummies with the same burning white eyes as moon face uttering. They looked around to see the mannequins, clowns, acrobatts, and ballerinas slowly moving towards me,

attempting to box me in and preventing any chance of escape. The music of the dance of the sugar plum fairy suddenly became very distorted and mutilated. and the chanting of the mannequins so it grew volatile, aggressive, and more menacing. I then saw blood beginning to stream down their eyes like tears. I turned back to Moonface, and we'll look back at me I could never be prepared for. His eyes now took a glowing red appearance, while his smile grew even wider with teeth that looked more like small vagaries that had been bleached perfect white. His back was hunched.

And so I would rip out of his revolting grin. Suddenly he roared a demonic hole and he lunged at me. And right there is when I wake up screaming and sweating every night. This has been happening to me for the past 15 years. I've tried everything I could to get some psychological help but to no avail. Until finally, I decided to uncover what the hell has been the root of all this. I visited my sister a few months ago. When she opened the door to her house, she threw her arms around me, gave me a kiss,

and started shedding tears of joy. It had been so long since we've spoken. It was good seeing her again. She said she had missed me very much. I had asked her about that day so long ago. Today I'd went to the circus. She had said I'd wandered away when she was listening to her music. She had told me that when I returned I was pale as a ghost, shivering and speechless.

When she asked me what was wrong and collapsed under the floor with my eyes open as if I were in shock. She had become hysterical and called an ambulance. She said she couldn't eat or sleep for three days knowing that I was in the hospital being treated for an unknown ailment. When I returned home, I had regained my sanity. She had asked me what had happened. I told her what I had seen, and she said I must have been imagining everything I saw. It sounded like a plausible response. But it was so real.

I said my goodbye to her, but I still wasn't satisfied and decided to investigate some more. I then did some research into the circus that used to come around when I was a kid. Then I caught something that interested me. Apparently there was once a very famous performer associated with the circus back in the 1920s. His name was Monroe Moonface Facil. According to the website, Monroe was a very skilled hypnotist, magician. It was very knowledgeable in the field of onerology, the scientific study of dreams. I tracked down his name and discovered that his former wife still lived in my town,

although she was in a retirement home. I visited her, telling her who I was and the information I saw it. She'd informed me that all of that was true. and that he was a man who never liked being lonely, and he also suffered from schizophrenia. The story is, according to her, that he'd often throw violent fits of rage. And when she asked him what was wrong,

he'd say the demons from hell would demand him to join them by killing himself. She said the demons drove him to the point where he went mad and committed suicide. She said she'd went to do some errands. and left him home. When she arrived, she found him dead in his room. He was lying on the ground with his throat slit and a very bizarre grin on his face. For reasons unknown to her, he had a phonograph in his room playing Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy on a loop.

He had written, Join Us, on every corner of the walls in his own blood. When she'd informed me of those things, I remembered my nightmares. What was the most interesting part is that she told me I wasn't the only one who had these nightmares and came to inquire this information from her. A pattern she's noticed, she said, is that the people whose nightmares her husband haunts are those who feel lonely.

I remember that day at the circus with my sister. I did feel lonely that day when I saw all those kids with their friends and family and feeling neglected by my sister. But now I feel like I have the answer to this age-old mystery. My sister and I now maintain a loving, sibling relationship, and we speak to each other every day. Due to the fact that I've discovered why I've had these nightmares and my sister is now a major part of my life. The horrible memory that it manufactured itself into a chronic nightmare has ceased.

Occasionally, I still do see a tall, shadowy figure with a crescent moon-shaped head and white, eyes working in my dreams. My name is Riley Weiss. What happened? I don't know. Blood pressure is low. I thought being at Amber Ridge would help me. We specialize in long-term psychiatric care and recovery programs. Our goal for all of our patients is to help them on their own journey of recovery.

But I never imagined the secrets I'd uncover. I don't know. Maybe it's true. You know the stories. What stories? The place burned to the ground, killing everyone inside. Nurses, doctors, patients, everyone. But people still say to this day that it's haunted and cursed because of all the people who died here. Hello, what are you doing out?

It's not real. It's not real. There's no faceless girl at the end of the hall. Break up. Aftershocks. The entire first season is available now. For more information, including pictures and videos of the stories told on this podcast, or to suggest stories for future episodes, please visit us.

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