Creepy - Day 17 - The Little Red Ranger

Episode Date: October 17, 2018

What's behind the masks?***Written by SH Cooper with guest narration by Victoria Juan***Check out more from the Girl in Space podcast at: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/girl-in-space-a-sci-fi-mystery-audio-drama/id1281287693?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 Sarah Werner***Decay by Kevin Macleod: https://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/music.htmlDinner Table Ambience: https://freesound.org/people/Mr_Alden/sounds/365676/Windy Ambience: https://freesound.org/people/MrAuralization/sounds/330333/Walk Through Autumn Leaves: https://freesound.org/people/Zabuhailo/sounds/167655***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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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. Creepy Presents The 31 Days of Horror Day 17, The Little Red Ranger, written by S.H. Cooper and narrated by Victoria Wan.

All Toby could talk about from October 1st onward was Halloween. He was finally old enough to fully understand the holiday and make his own definitive choice in costume, and he was a little bottle rocket of excitement. All it took was one over-the-shoulder glimpse at my screen while I played left for dead, and he was hooked on the idea of being Francis. There was just something about that big, go-teed biker who hated everything that spoke to Toby. He had me delve deeply into France's lore, and together we collected a number of reference photos to begin creating his costume. I sacrificed some old clothes and thrift shop for some new ones, and did my best to create Francis's outfit while our parents set out to make a couple of guns and accessories to wear on his belt.

It was a simple costume, jeans, white wife-beater, black leather vest, two full flesh-colored sleeves covered and drawn-on tattoos, and a few weapons. When we were done, it was quite obviously homemade, but Toby was thrilled. He wore the vest so often in the weeks leading up to Halloween that we had to clean it multiple times. He asked that I accompany him as Zoe after I explained who the other characters were. I had wanted to go to a party my friend was throwing, and had already planned a hippie ensemble. But seeing his eager grin, I couldn't help but agree. We only had a couple of Halloween's left before I went away to college, and I wanted to make them special.

Although I spent far less time putting together my own costume, he was equally pleased with the outcome, and took to calling me Zoe more often than he used my real name. When Halloween night finally rolled around, Toby was suited to be in. and booted a full hour before we were set to leave. No gloves at the table, Francis, mom said with a smile. He sighed, but pulled off the fingerless gloves and hoovered up his hamburger and tater tots

with all the gusto of a child preparing for a long night of candy collecting. I was barely allowed to eat any slower, as I was not yet in costume, which was a huge concern for Toby. You have to get ready. Will it take you long? Do you know where all your stuff is?

How long will it take you? Are you done yet? I was equally annoyed and amused by his enthusiasm and did my best to act as interested in our trick-or-treat adventure as he was. The moment my plate was cleared, he was tugging me away from the table and up the stairs to my room, where my costume was waiting. I could hear him pacing out in the hall while I changed,

all the while muttering some of Francis's lines from the game. When I was all dressed up and ready to go, he dragged me back downstairs and had our parents take a million pictures of us in various poses around the house and yard. When he was satisfied that his time as a survivor of the zombie apocalypse had been duly recorded, we grabbed our bags and headed out. The streets were already crawling with all manner of many monsters by the time we started. It didn't take long for us to fall in with a group of Toby's neighborhood friends and their parents, and we moved from house to house. an already sugar-addled group of enthusiastic trick-or-treaters. Even though Toby had to explain our costumes more than once, he was happy to tell and retell anyone who would listen

all about Francis, Zoe, and their fight against the undead. Peter looks adorable, I said to Mrs. Mulligan, while we waited for the kids at their latest stop. I didn't even know what a Pokemon trainer was, she laughed. I had to educate myself real quick. We went back and forth, commenting on May's ballerina outfit and how much Taylor actually did look like Harry Potter, down the line of familiar kids,

until we got to the last one standing just beside Toby, a very small child dressed in a Red Power Ranger costume. I hadn't noticed him before, and wondered when he'd joined our group. Who's that? I asked, nodding to the little boy. "'No idea,' Mrs. Mulligan said. "'But her attention had turned to her phone, "'and she hadn't really bothered to look. "'Maybe one of the kids from the new family down the street, the Schwartz's.

"'I nodded, accepting her answer. "'But I couldn't help finding it odd "'that they'd chosen the costume worn by the Mighty Morphan Rangers of my childhood, "'and not one of the more updated versions. "'When we regrouped, the little ranger trailing just behind, Toby thrust his open bag in my face so I could see his hall and jabbered about how that last house had given him full-sized snickers. All I could focus on, though, was the smell.

Rotten eggs, I thought, with a wrinkled nose. Rotten eggs and mildew. I glanced around, and I could tell from the frowns that I wasn't the only one who could smell it. Maybe the kids had been given rotten apples or a bad piece of candy. "'Hey, Tobes, let me see that.' I took his bag and opened it again for another sniff. It didn't seem to be coming from inside.

Confused, I handed it back and traded a shrug with my brother, who was looking at me curiously. As we went along, the smell stuck around and even seemed to grow stronger until a few of the kids were complaining and pinching their noses. There was a sickly sweet quality to it, the kind that crawls into your nostrils and stays there. I'd only encountered something like it before, after a family of mice had died in the garage.

What is that? Toby whined. I don't know, but why don't we hit a few more houses and then head home, okay? It's getting pretty bad. He seemed a bit disappointed that his Halloween was being cut short, so I offered him the little candy I'd gotten in addition to his own. That's often the blow, and he agreed. we'd finish the street and turn back. As we crowded at the foot of the driveway,

so the kids could go up to the house, the smell became so strong that I could almost taste it in the back of my throat. I barely withheld a gag and looked down in the direction it seemed to be coming from and found the little red ranger standing beside me. He turned his helmeted head towards me and craned his neck to look upwards.

I couldn't see his face behind the mask, but tried to offer a smile anyway. It turned into a wretch when a breeze blew over us, carrying with it the heavy scent of hot rot. I quickly covered my nose and mouth and stepped away from the child. It's him, I realized, with a sickening wrench of my gut. The smell is coming from him. Maybe it was a case of a well-loved, unwashed costume. Maybe he just didn't have good hygiene, and his parents didn't care.

Those were reasonable explanations. They made sense, but my mind kept going back to the dead mouse family and the smell of their decay. Hi, I said, awkwardly. You see me. It wasn't a question. Yeah, are you new to the neighborhood? The smell wafting off of him made me want to gag, but I kept a small, forced smile on my face. If a little kid wanted to have a little Halloween fun,

Who was I to reign on his parade? No, I've been here a long time, he said. His voice was muffled by the helmet. I'm lonely. Oh, I wondered who it was beneath the helmet. If he'd been in the neighborhood a long time, surely I'd know him. Is that your brother? Yeah.

What's his name? Uh, Toby. What's yours? Do you want me to introduce you? Offering my brother's name made my skin crawl, and immediately after I said it, I regretted it, even if I didn't know why. No, he said. Are you okay, Lisa? Mrs. Mulligan was suddenly beside me. You look a bit green. No, I'm... I'm okay. I looked back to the ranger, but he was gone, heading up the driveway.

It occurred to me then that he wasn't carrying a trick-or-treat bag. I was distracted by Mrs. Mulligan saying, Well, I just wanted to introduce you to Mrs. Schwartz. I mentioned her earlier. She and her family just moved in a few houses down. I said a half-hearted hello and complimented her witch costume. We exchanged a few more pleasantries until a little boy came running up to her. This is my son, Aaron, she said, resting her hands on his shoulders.

He waved shyly to me. I gazed down at the boy. who half hid behind his mom, disconcerted by my wide-eyed staring. If this was the Schwartz kid, then he couldn't have been the one I was just talking to. He wasn't the same child who had been walking with us all evening. A bubbly, sick feeling was welling in the pit of my stomach, and I spun away from them while she was in mid-sentence. I couldn't explain it, but I was suddenly terrified and knew I had to get Toby.

I had to keep him away from that child who smelled of death. I searched the faces of the returning children, anxiously seeking out my baby brother with his drawn-on goatee, but he was nowhere to be found. Tobes, I called, my voice tight with fear. Toby! The other parents had paused, and were starting to look at me with worry.

Has anyone seen my brother? He's the one dressed like a biker. Anyone! I was becoming frantic and going from child to child searching for Toby. I saw him. One little girl said quietly, and I had to stop myself from grabbing her. Where? He went that way.

She gestured across the road towards the woods with her plastic pumpkin. I jerked around, and there, just beyond the tree line, I caught sight of Toby walking hand in hand with the little Red Ranger. I screamed for him and started. to run, but I stumbled into a group of passing trick-or-treaters and fell hard onto the concrete. He hadn't even looked back. By the time I'd scrambled to my feet again, Toby had vanished. Of everyone who'd been present that night, I was the only one who had remembered seeing a little boy dressed as a mighty morphine power ranger. Some remembered a bad smell. Mrs. Mulligan and

Mrs. Schwartz remembered that I looked ill. But, Beyond that, no one had seen anything out of the ordinary. The police scoured the woods for the next week, sent out Amber Alerts for the next month, and kept the case open for the next year. No trace of Toby, or the Little Red Ranger, was ever found. This probably isn't really worth noting, but during my final radiation tests of the day,

I saw a blip out in the opposite direction of Ra. It's a bright light with a light, the pinpoint clarity of a star, but obviously it's not a star since it wasn't there yesterday. Or even a few hours ago. Also, it's moving. Charlotte's taking this new development with all the grace of a garbage fire. She barged in on her hydraulic arm while I was checking Roz radiation emissions earlier and started reciting the entire Caldwell Enterprise's Emergency Preparedness Manual to me from start to finish. I took that to mean that she thinks the Indianapolis.

coming light is a matter of some concern. I told her to be more optimistic, that it might not be coming directly toward us, that it could simply be a mirage, that she technically doesn't have a death to fear, but she just started reciting the manual all over again from the beginning. So I wedged a fallen tree branch up into the hydraulic tracks to block her from exiting the glasshouse. Season 1 of Girl in Space launches September 18th, 2017, with a new episode, every two weeks.

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