Creepy - Day 19 - Doors

Episode Date: December 10, 2017

 You would do anything for your family, right? The people who raised you and loved you...what if you were only left to watch?***Please consider supporting the podcast at Patreon.com/Creepypod***Music composed by Steve Blizin***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.

This episode of creepy is presented by patrons Brian Johnson and EJG. Patrons of this podcast get rewards and bonus content not available on the regular feed. Please consider helping out the podcast by visiting patreon.com slash creepypod. 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 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 Bad Days. Day 19 Doors Credited to user AC Johnson How's adopted? I never knew my real mother. Rather, I knew her at one time, but I left her side when I was too little to be able to remember. I loved my adopted family, though. They were so kind to me. I ate well, I lived in a warm, comfortable house, I got to stay out pretty late.

Let me tell you about my family real fast. First, there's my mother. I never called her mom or anything like that. I just called her by her first name, Janice. She didn't mind at all, though. I called her that. I called her that. for so long I don't think she even noticed. Anyhow, she was a very kind woman. I think that she's one who recommended my adoption in the first place. Sometimes I would lay my head against her in front of the television and she'd tickle my back with her nails. She was one of those Hollywood mothers. Second, there's dad.

His real name is Richard, but he never really liked me much, so I began to refer to him as dad in a desperate attempt to gain his affection. It didn't work. I think that no matter what I called him, he would never love me as much as his own children. That's understandable, so I really didn't press the matter. The most notable attribute of dad was his unmoving sternness. He was not afraid to pop his children when they did something wrong. I found that out before I could use a restroom properly.

He didn't hesitate to spank me. Well, I'm in line, and it's because of his methods. Lastly's my sister. Little Emily was really young. when I was adopted, so we were about the same age, but she was slightly older. I like to think of her as my little sister, though. We got along better than any siblings who possibly get along. We would always stay up late together and just talk.

Well, she did a lot of the talking. I mostly just listened because I loved her. It was a great setup that we had. We were short on bedrooms, so, because I didn't want to sleep in the living room by myself when I was littler, I had a pallet set up for me next to her bed on the floor. This is where I've slept since. But it was cool with me because I enjoy being with her, and I've always felt pretty protective of my little sis.

Everything changed on a horrible Wednesday night. I was at home taking a nap when little Emily opened the front door. The sound of the door opening pulled me to a state of consciousness, and I walked from the room down the hall to the living room. That's when I first remembered it was Wednesday. I was never any good at keeping track of what day it was. Actually, I'll just go ahead and say it. My sense of time was horrible.

But nevertheless, I knew it was Wednesday because Emily had just come home from her church's youth group gathering. She walked in the front door and hugged me, and then was followed in by Dad and Janice. You have a good nap? Janice said, teasing as she ruffled up my hair. I just shook my head away and snorted in a matter that clearly expressed I was teasing back with her. Don't you snort at your mother like that, said my father gruffly with authority. He shut the door behind him and hung up his coat. I was clearly joking.

I growled under my breath. He must not have heard me because I didn't feel him smack me. Emily then proceeded to her room and I followed. She started telling me about her day, you know, usual teenage girl stuff. But I listened so that she'd feel better. After her summary, she suggested watching TV, and I obliged and jumped onto the couch as she was going for the remote. She rolled her eyes at my little brother-like immaturity and scooted me over and sat down. The TV turned down and we watched it together until the sun went down.

Emily was the kind of girl that, instead of watching cartoons and soap operas, would rather watch Discovery and Animal Planet and Natural Geographic. I like those two, so I didn't mind. Actually, those were the only channels that could hold my attention. So it got late, and Janice walked up behind the sofa. Emily, it's past your bedtime. Turn off the television and go to your room. You too, she pointed at me.

Emily turned off the program we were watching grudgingly and stood up. She started down the hallway to our room. As I followed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. I went into her room and Emily turned off the light. Just as she did, I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. It was out the window, but as soon as I redirected my line of sight to where the window was no longer in my peripheral vision, what it was that I thought I saw was gone. I still remained alert, for my sister's sake.

I laid there in the darkness with nothing but a thin ray of light from the street lamp outside to illuminate the room. It wasn't much. Time and time again I could have sworn I heard subtle sounds just out the window. A twig break, leaves crunching, closed jostling, and all the while I could smell a faint stench of sweat and blood. I kept my eyes open most of the night. The sounds outside subsided and the smell left my nose. I began to feel at ease. My eyelids closed.

Not long after that, I heard a very loud crash on the other side of the house. I was up in an instant. There's someone in the house! I barked with extreme adrenaline coursing through me. Wake up! I shrilly pleaded with Emily. She did, and as soon as I saw her sit up, I ran to my parents' room. Dad was dead.

His neck was spayed open and gaping, his blood spilled out of it, off the bed, and onto the floor. I saw that the master bathroom's door was closed, and just before it, on the outside, was a man. He was very large and rugged. He turned around inside. me and that's when I saw him accurately for the first time. I won't forget it. His eyes were large and beady and trapped with lust. He was styling a beard that was badly unkempt with blood dripping off it.

His clothes were dirty and his face was cold. Just then I noticed the same horrid smell of sweat and blood from earlier. But this time it was overwhelming. He saw me and grinned with a set of crooked. crooked yellow teeth. The smile threw me off. I thought that I was going to die. But then he turned back to the bathroom door,

completely unperturbed by my presence. I was terrified and didn't know what to do. I just yelled and cried. I watched as he shouldered through the door that was mom's only protection. I watched as he raised a large razor that he was carrying, but it obviously neglected to use properly. I watched as he sliced her open

and tore her to shreds. I then heard something. The last thing that I wanted to hear. It was Emily's scream coming from behind me. The large monstrosity looked up from my butchered mother and stared at my little sister. I was distrapped. He stood up and quickly started walking toward us. My sister turned and ran and I was at a loss when he bypassed me and went straight after her.

Why was she still in the house? Had she not assessed a situation and run? Apparently not. And now she was dead. And I was alone. I ran after them both. I expected the man to kill her as he had the rest of my family. But I was sadly mistaken.

He grabbed her by the arm and jerked her as a way to make clear he was in control. He dragged her through the house. I was making all the noise I could, now hoping and praying that someone had come to my aid. He mustn't take her, not her. As he passed me, I backed against the wall and whimpered with terror. Why? He didn't respond, except by putting his free hand on my head while Emily screamed in the other and saying,

Good boy. He gave another crooked grin and a very cold, unnatural laugh. I followed him to the door where he draped my helpless sister after him. He opened it, pulled her out. and slammed it shut behind him. I am now sitting in the house with my mutilated adopted parents, shivering and whimpering with dismay. He's out there with her, doing who knows what to her, and I can't do anything.

I would if I could, but I can't. I would chase after them in a heartbeat, but I can't. I sit here, looking at the front door. I look down at my paws. If only I could open doors. 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. Email all stories told on this podcast can be found at creepypastairwiki.com.

And are protected by a... created Commons license some rights reserved unless otherwise stated