Creepy - Day 21 - The Scarecrow In My Backyard

Episode Date: December 12, 2017

Do you ever hear a bump in the night? And you tell yourself that you're just imagining things? What would you do if something was there? And what is that something was even worse than you could imagine?***Credited to Some Guy***Please consider supporting the podcast at Patreon.com/Creepypod***Sound Design 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 Patreon supporters Elizabeth Netterno and Lee Davies. Your donations make this podcast, let alone the daily episodes, possible. Please consider supporting this podcast at patreon.com slash creepypod. This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastures and urban. been 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 21. The Scarecrow in my backyard. Credited

to some guy. I recently moved to the city. I grew up living out in the country. The funny thing about Minnesota, at least to me, is that you could be in the middle of a city of 50,000 people or more, but all you have to do is drive for 20 minutes

and you'd be in the middle of farm country. From an early age, my mom took me out to the garden and showed me out to plant vegetables by hand. When I got older, my dad showed me out to take care of the cattle in her crops. I always had a place in my heart for farming, even though I knew I'd never grow up to be a farmer. So after college, when I was able to buy a small house for myself, I made sure the backyard had enough room to plant a modest garden.

I moved to the city because there's no room to plant gardens here. I live in the 15th floor of an apartment building, and when I look outside, I see pavement and streetlights, and people wandering to and from work and bars. That's how I sleep now. About three months ago I'd been on the tail end of a 50-hour work week. My team had been working on a deadline and the fact that we were able to sunset the project was enough to make us want to celebrate. After a few too many beers, a co-worker dropped me off at home and I stumbled straight to bed. It was a scream that woke me up. You know when you're in that level of sleep where you aren't sure what's going on?

Like those times when your phone rings at two in the morning, but for some reason you can't write. recognize the sound of your own phone, so you keep trying to turn off your alarm. That's what that was. I heard the scream. In some part of my head, I knew it was a scream, but it was so out of place that I couldn't process the information. So I just sat up and back, looking into the darkened hall, wondering what had happened. I sat there in the silence for about a minute before I laid back down. I couldn't wrap my mind around the sound I heard.

and my exhaustion overwhelmed me again. My head wasn't on the pillow for more than a few seconds before I heard the scream again. But this time it wasn't a scream exactly. It wasn't scared. It was angry. A shout? I lived in a quiet neighborhood, so the idea of hearing someone out in the streets shouting didn't make any more sense than hearing a scream. I don't think I'm a coward.

but it was hard for me to look out the window blinds. It took a few moments from my eyes to adjust to the shadows outside in a dim moonlight, but there was definitely something in my backyard. I could see the silhouette of something moving out there near the fence at the edge of my garden. I sat there looking out, thinking that maybe it was just some stupid kids pulling a prank, like those idiots who were dressing up like clowns a couple months ago. but then the hollering started again

and I could see whatever it was flail around in the darkness I could hear the sounds of limbs smacking against the wood of the fence again I don't think I'm a coward but I didn't get out of bed I wasn't even sure if I wanted to call the police I don't think there had been a single time in my life when the idea of having to call the police had ever even been an option

I just wanted whoever was outside to go away. The yelling and thumping went on for another full minute before finally going quiet. I looked out my window again, part of me hoping to see that the person was gone. Part of me terrified that it was the scene in the horror movie where the killer has his face or mask pressed up against the window. But when I looked outside, he was still there, just standing out in the darkness in that same place. It looked like he was just standing there, staring at me. I can't pretend like I wasn't afraid. I mean, I know that by now it's pretty obvious that I was afraid the whole time.

But now, now there was just this guy. Some psycho staring into my house, staring at me. I don't own a gun, so I grabbed a metal softball bat I had for an afterwork league and went to the back door. I can't remember a time in my life when I'd ever squeezed anything so hard. As if I were afraid I would drop to bat and be defenseless. I could feel my own pulse as my forearms went tight with exertion and I tried to calm myself. I took a breath.

Then another. One last breath and I opened the back door and saw the person, the man, still standing in the same spot, still staring at me from the darkness. Hey! I yelled. Get out of here! Yes, I'm well aware of how pathetic that sounded. But I was still a little drunk,

and it made me just paranoid enough that I started to think the guy could have been high or crazy enough to do something really crazy. I mean, those clown videos showed them standing around, just looking at the camera, then suddenly rushing at them. even if it was just a prank, it was messed up. Finally, I yelled,

I'm calling the cops. But still the shadow didn't move. I could see enough of him to see that it was a person. It wasn't a trick of light or anything. I could see a head sort of tilted to the side and arms and legs. It sort of reminded me of the scarecrow my dad had when I was younger, except that I could see there was no crossbar that would have been used to hold arms up.

They just dangled there. I'm positive that I saw them twitch and had worried he was going for a weapon, so I slammed the door and called the cops. The 911 operator told me they'd already received a call for my neighbors, obviously ones that had more sense than me, and police had been dispatched to my location.

It wasn't more than 30 seconds later that I heard the sirens coming down the street. I rushed to the front of my house to see the flashing lights dancing room my darkened neighborhood. Not wanting to do something dumb like run out at the cops, I went to the back door again to see if the guy had run away. But when I got there, I could see that he was still there. And it definitely was a he. There was just enough light from the police cars driving up that I could see the wild-eyed face of the man.

His face looked all twisted, and his eyes bulged out grotesquely. I could hear the police rushing around the side of the house and ordering the man down to the ground, but he didn't move. They warned him that they were armed, but still he didn't move. I could see the cops through the corner of the window, and he had one of those taser guns in his hand. He gave the guy one more warning before firing. I saw the jolt in the man's arms and legs as it hit him. His head snapped back too, but to my horror, he didn't fall down.

He just stood there convulsing. No, not standing. He wasn't standing. When the cop and his partner shown their light on the man, I saw the most horrible thing I possibly could have. I saw the scarecrow in my backyard. I talked to the police afterward, and it wasn't until the next day that they piece things together.

I'd taken off work to try and recover, not only from drinking, but from what I saw. Supposedly the man was a career criminal and, like I had worried about, a meth had. You just robbed a gas station a few blocks from my house and been cutting three yards to get away. At least until you got to my house. Something you should know about my house. About my garden. The plot of dirt I used for a garden isn't anything special.

I didn't landscape it really, and I don't have a nice fence or anything to keep out the rabbits and other animals. I just use some basic plastic tornado fencing to encircle everything And to hold it in place, I use what's essentially four pieces of rebar that the previous owner of my house left in the garage So really? My yard is a fence, then a small plot of dirt with four four foot long pieces of rebar sticking out of the ground The cops figure that when he got to my fence, he tried to hurtle it, but he must have slipped from the scuff marks they found. and when he fell he fell straight down

onto one of the pieces of rebar it skewered him straight through his ass the yell I heard was him falling on to it the hollering and flailing afterwards must have been him coming out of the shock of the moment it had been the back of his feet kicking while dangling in the air that I heard on my fence

by the time I got to my back door his body weight had forced him to slide down the rebars the metal slowly pierced through his body He was probably dead when I first yelled at him. Maybe if I had done something sooner, he would still be alive, instead of dying, impaled on my garden post. The pool of blood soaking into the dirt and grass at the base of the post. Criminal or not?

I can't stand to think of what happened to him. That's why I live in the city 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 at Creepypod on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook, or email us at CreepyPod. All stories told on this podcast can be found at creepypasta wiki.com and are protected by a Creative Commons license.

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