Creepy - Day 25 - There's Something Wrong

Episode Date: October 25, 2018

Sometimes, after the party, the real horror starts...***Credited to vede***Check out more from the Sirenicide podcast at: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/sirenicide/id1147475295?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 Steve Blizin, Puzzle Audio***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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Creepy Presents The 31 Days of Horror. Day 25. There's something wrong. Credited to user V-D. On Reddit, no sleep. It might be the beer from all the partying, but I could swear there's something wrong outside.

I know everyone left. but there's still a car outside. Not my car. That one's out there too. Someone else's car. That means that between my house door and their car door, they got lost somehow. There's definitely something wrong outside. I can hear it.

It's scraping against the house on the outside. Scratching long, dull lines into the wood with what must be its long, dull dull. claws. Like it's taunting me to come outside. Come outside and play. I put my ear to the wall to hear it and it stop scraping, which is away from my head across nothing more than flimsy decades-old wooden beams. Not scraping anymore. Tapping. Can't do anything to get me out there. I wasn't planning on going to class tomorrow anyway. I'm sure I'll go away in the morning. Yes.

There won't be anything wrong outside when the sun comes up. I'm sure. If I just stay calm in here, then it's at the window. I can see the condensation from its breath on the glass. There's nothing behind the glass. Oh God, I can't see it. I just know it can see me, though. It can see my neck.

It can see my flesh. It sees something it wants. It's scratching the window, making two long streaks down the glass. Slowly. So slow it seems like it'll be hours before it hits the sill. The sill of my unlocked window. I can practically feel its enthusiasm on my bounding, leaping journey across the living room towards it. towards its undoubtedly hungry mouth.

I almost trip on a beer bottle on the way. I'm determined to get to that window before I manages to open it up. If it opens that window. I don't want whatever happened. I can't even think that person's name right now. But I'm certain there's a freshly torn corpse out there somewhere. There just has to be. I hurriedly flip the window lock.

It hops the breath against the window. at the same moment, a huff of disappointment. It sounded like a horse or a bull or something else even worse, and left droplets of mucus on the glass. No more breath on the window. I can hear it trample the brush along the side of the house. It's going around at the back. Look at the house.

It has the upper hand. It must know this house. I've only been here a week. Just got here for college. A house my parents managed to get from me. Way out at the edge of town. Look at the house. What's not at the front or the sides of the house?

The outdoor cellar entrance. That's at the back of the house. Jesus, where's the indoor cellar entrance? In a closet somewhere, I think. In my bedroom closet. That's where it is. I just hope I can get there before it does. I don't lock that door.

I don't lock the outside door either. I aim the flashlight at my closet floor and see a hole into the blackness. There's something wrong down there. I peer down into the hole scanning with my flashlight. When it's out pierce as the cold silence I've grown so accustomed to. Hey man, what the hell? A pair of people in the middle of what must be a drunken one-night stander in the cellar. At the other end of the room, the three of us hear a creak.

It pours into the space as the outside door squeaks its way open. A horn shadow forms on the dusty ground of the cellar, and an enthusiastic grunt fills the space as I pull my head back up into my closet and slam shut the trap door. Young fornicators inside are shouting. They're confused. They don't know what's wrong. Another shouting in pain That sound is terrible It sounds of bones cracking

flesh tearing It sounds of people dying I can't handle this I pile as much as I can on top of the door Before rushing back into the living room I sit on the couch Huddled in fear watching the windows I want to turn on the light

But don't even bother trying I know that there's something wrong with the power now This thing has cut the power line It has to have cut the power line Adel's thud reports from one of the windows I get snaps to it and I see a hand reaching up from below Smearing blood on the glass I rushed to it and peek outside the window

But this hand doesn't have a body All it has is a few inches of an arm And a few more inches of bone at the end of that Suddenly the hand retracts, into darkness, pulled away by the monster. Thud. This time a female. And this time only with one finger, an index finger pointing up toward the roof.

Thud, thud, thud, thud. It's on the roof. This house is a fireplace. It's going to come down the chimney. I push all the strength of beers I drank tonight can give me into the couch. It tears jagged lines into the floor along its path to cover the fireplace. But before anything gets into the room, I block the hole. I hear another huff, followed by a sound I can't recognize it first.

Like the sound of pouring water behind the couch. In the fireplace. Then I see the dark outline spreading out on the floor in front of the seat. It oozes around the empty bottles and cups scattered on the floor. floor. It mingles with the various liquors spilled over the course of the night. I can barely see in the dark, but I know what it is. I shine my flashlight to confirm my suspicion just as the chunks start to flow out. First, just a piece of meat, then an eye, some fingers, slowly spreading out on the living room floor. The heavier pieces to slide cups from their positions.

and start a cascade of deathly stinking sludge through the room. I can't take this. I'm done. The bathroom door pushes open easily and I grab whatever bottles I can find behind the mirror. Two or three I managed open easily and I pour the contents into my hand just as I hear it. It's down to the window. There's something wrong. Back in the living room feet just at the edge of the discreet.

disgusting layer covering the ground. I see the window open. The locks snap apparently without effort. A huff. Footsteps across the wooden porch outside. The doork rattles, cracks, and the door swings in one. It's just been playing with me. Footsteps across the other side of the porch. The other window. The lock snaps. What at the top of its run? The filter. on the floor is knocked out of the way without its feet. It's just been playing with me. My name is Matthew Finnis, and something terrible has happened to me. An event that has sent me traveling down a road I was never meant to be on.

This is my story and the story of countless others. This is a story of what lies in the shadows of Morston, Texas. Siren aside is a serialized horror drama based in the wicked world woven in and around. Morston, Texas. The criminal factions and dark government agencies are just the start of the malevolence that roams the streets of this macabre city. The tales and sirenicide tap into the fear and lore that envelop what most would consider to be fiction. How much more is out there? Is every monster real? Hmm. Most tales are based on some facts. The production plays host to a plethora of popular personalities from other nightmarish podcast.

Oh, it's Lena. Lena Klein. Just a number now. That's it. 447. I bet you believe it yellow eyes now, huh boy? Thanks to the research team here at the Laughlin Institute, We have finally found the answer to beating disease entirely.

What have I done? That's not me. His body is accepting death. Evil has reigned unchecked in this city for far too long. The main cast of sirenicide's creepy, courageous, and curious characters evolve with the overarching story. But they also chronicle some amazing self-contained, Stand-alone, Tales. It's vile.

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