Creepy - Day 3 - It's mandatory to leave a pumpkin and a dead animal at your doorstep every Halloween by 3am

Episode Date: October 3, 2021

Traditions are important...***Written by IsabellaBorg2001***Bonus: "Bees Under My Skin" written by Sum Gigh***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/creepypod***Sound Design 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.

Welcome to the bloody disgusting network. No. 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 books. Violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised.

Creepy presents. The 31 Days of Horror. Day 3. It's mandatory to leave a pumpkin and a dead animal at your doorstep every Halloween by 3 a.m. Written by Isabella Borg 2001 and narrated by Heather Thomas. I grew up in a very small secluded town with what I guess would be a weird rule or tradition of sorts. Every Halloween it was mandatory to leave a pumpkin, carved or not, outside your home along with a dead animal, usually a mouse or a squirrel. I never understood why such things were mandatory every year.

I always thought it was just to get the citizens more into the creepy holiday, or scare us. although children weren't even allowed out to trick or treat, and adults couldn't leave their homes either. Halloween was more of a bore than anything in our town. The stories of how the holiday was in other towns or in the movies was so unlike ours. I never understood until a couple Halloweens ago, and I still regret it to this day.

It was Hallows Eve and my birthday, parents had gone out of town for the first time during this time of year to spend Halloween with my aunt. They offered me to join them, but in all honesty, I disliked my aunt quite a bit, and declined. Besides, I felt some time alone would be good for me, possibly even relaxing. Before they left, they were very adamant on reminding me, over and over again, to remember to leave the small mouse and pumpkin they left on the kitchen counter at the doorstep by no later than three in the morning tonight. One thing I didn't enjoy was the part where we had to kill an animal. I loved animals, and having to see my family and others kill them yearly hurt me, which is why my parents

were always the ones to do it. But this year they wouldn't be there to do it for me. The moment the moment they left, I went straight to my bedroom upstairs, laying on my soft bed with heavy eyes as I watched a marathon of horror flicks. I only realized I had fallen asleep once the sound of loud knocking at the door filled the house with an echo. I checked the clock that laid beside my bed. 11.45 p.m. I had slept for at least five hours as my parents had left around six o'clock. As I began to sit up from my bed, the knocks returned louder than before, bringing a sense of unease to well up within me. Once I made my way to the front door where the knocks were emanating from, for some reason I felt slightly nervous about opening it. I opened the door slowly, keeping my body shielded behind the door, only letting my head peek out to see my neighbor at my doorstep, with a worried expression on his wrinkled.

face. I just thought I'd remind you to put your stuff out before you forget. Everyone else has already. Don't want anything happening to you. He stated sternly, before turning away quickly and making his way through our leaf-filled yard into his own. I closed the door. His words would have seemed normal if it weren't for the sentence,

Don't want anything happening to you. at the end of it. His words seemed odd. Never in my 16 years of living in the town, had I ever heard anyone insinuate the possibility of anything happening if you didn't follow the odd Halloween rules. I made an attempt at shaking off his words

and just working my way towards the items on the kitchen counter. I picked up the pumpkin with a bit of a struggle as my parents had chosen quite a hefty one, for whatever reason. It wasn't carved, which made it even heavier. I hadn't carved one in years. I just never had the energy or desire to make such a mess. Once the enormous fruit was placed on the doorstep,

I made my way back to do what I had been dreading to do, ever since my parents had told me they would be away on Halloween. I had to kill the mouse, but I couldn't do it. I just looked at it running around, almost petrified, within the clear container. My heart bled painfully, almost making tears escape from my eyes. Without any hesitation,

I made my way to the fenced backyard that was surrounded by dense forest and opened the small container to release the innocent animal. I felt an intense well of pride and happiness as I watched it scamper into the darkness. I hadn't thought putting out just a pumpkin was a big deal.

I especially didn't think not laying out a freshly dead animal at our doorstep would cause any harm. Besides, it was just a weird holiday rule that was probably just meant to scare us. Or at least, that's what I thought. After my long nap, I found it nearly impossible to sleep, although it hardly felt like that was really the reason I couldn't pass out. As the time ticked away slowly, an odd sense of dread seemed to fill my bones. I made myself believe it was simply the fact that I was home alone for the first time in a while, and I was also getting a little jumpy because of all the horror movies I had watched.

But the sound of heavy dragging footsteps from outside the front door caught my attention instantly, making my sense of dread become intense fear I had never felt before. It was three in the morning. I sat on the couch in utter silence, silently shaking as I waited for whoever was outside the door to go away. The long silence was quickly taken over by a high-pitched scream that almost sounded like a banshee. The sound that filled my ears caused me to wince in pain, tears welling up within my eyes as I fell on to the floor. Once the noise had ceased, my face was weirdly numb and wet tears covered my skin. I was quivering harshly now, gripping the rough carpet beneath me as I stared wide-eyed at the

dark oak door beyond the living room. Whoever or whatever was out there tried the door, almost as if it was trying to use a more simple and civilized method of entering the house, a more simple way than the sound it made would intend it to use. I had locked the door as always so they weren't able to enter. Once they realized this fact, the jiggling doorknob went silent and still. That is until I heard loud banging from the door. But it wasn't knocking. It was as if someone was trying to break down the door.

I should have ran or tried to escape as soon as I heard. it, but I was frozen in fear. No matter how much my mind willed my body to move, it just wouldn't. The moment the door burst open, pieces of shredded oak wood flew within the house. Whoever or whatever broke down the door had been strong enough to bust a huge hole into the door, sharp wood now sticking out all around it. All of this was petrifying. But what was really horrifying was what created it. What hit me first was its scent. It was rotten like meat that I'd been left out for days in the hot sun.

This almost produced a gag within me, were it not for my horrified state. The thing that crawled through the busted door was lanky and dark. Its skin almost seemed decomposing and raw. I simply stared at it as it scanned the room, as it continued to enter. Once its eyes met mine, I felt the immense fear I had never felt before return once again. Its pupils were almost like a feline's. The rest of the eye was deep within its head, giving an even more unsettling look to it somehow. Its stare was hungry and animalistic, as if it hadn't eaten in a long time.

This thought made my heart jump into my stomach. What seemed to confirm what I saw in its eyes was the way its snake-like tongue licked its jumble of dark, rotting flesh around its wide mouth, revealing a long line of short but sharp teeth, almost like a piranha. The second it began to make its way towards me, I realized where the dragging sound had come from.

It had one slightly longer arm that held large, knife-like claws that dragged behind it, leaving deep marks within its wake. I had always wondered why some years we would find scratch marks on the doormats. Here was the horrifying answer. The moment my body finally chose to listen to my mind and move, the decomposing creature's speed increased towards me. It let out the same ear-piercing scream I had heard earlier, making me squeeze my hands against my ears as tightly as possible in an attempt to block it out

and keep making my way towards the back door. I remember how much adrenaline had been pumping through my veins vividly, as the moment the creature latched its teeth within my left hand with a near clear cut, all I felt was a numb, dull ache. I don't know how it snuck up so fast, but it caught me by my hand, causing me to be. to panic and pull away as hard as I could. I didn't even think about or even notice how it hurt me,

as I sprinted away as quick as I could urge my shaking legs to go towards the back door. Whatever it was seemed to be distracted, devouring its newly acquired treat. As I slid the back door open with a brute force I never possessed before, its piercing scream echoed within the house once more. signaling that my chances to escape were growing slim, as it was no longer preoccupied by my severed hand. As I ran through the backyard towards the gate to the front yard, I could hear its heavy steps quickly making their way behind me. It's razor-sharp hand scraping within the dirt, letting out an unsettling noise that I couldn't possibly describe.

The closer I got to the neighbor's home, the more my lungs felt like collapsing, within my chest. My legs also wanted to collapse beneath me as they shook intensely from a mix of pure terror and soreness. The moment I made my way past the small gate and continued to run, the high-pitched scream that bellowed from within the beast wasn't how it was the other times I had heard it. This time it was almost warped and darker, deeper. Echoing throughout the trees and between the houses, like a large ship's horn. The sound of woodbreaking caused me to jump slightly as I continued running to the neighbor's yard nearing their door. Pieces of my family's white fence began to fly around my surroundings, one of them slamming into my side with intense power. Once I finally

reached the neighbor's front door, I could hardly breathe as I banged relentlessly against the front door, almost pleading for help within my knocks. Glancing behind me was the worst choice I had ever made, as the view I saw of the creature was that of a predator that was about to pounce its prey. It was almost grinning, tilting its head at me as it slowly headed towards me in an almost cocky manner. It seemed to know what I feared. It was going to get me. There was no way my neighbors were awake, and this thing would finally finish me. To my surprise, the door opened before me, and without an ounce of hesitation I stumbled within, slamming the door and locking the various locks upon it.

The old man before me didn't even get to say a single word before I started breaking down in tears. The fear that filled his eyes as he stared at me sticks with me to this day. It was almost as if he knew what had happened. For some reason, what I was a little bit of him. Whatever it was, never tried to get into my neighbor's house once I escaped within, no matter how afraid and certain I was that it would. It simply took his offering of a dead swirl and made its way throughout the town, to my relief. The piece of wood that had hit me had actually stabbed me, and yet I was filled with so much

fear and adrenaline I hadn't even noticed. just as I had almost forgotten about my severed hand that I loved so dearly. I don't live in that town anymore. My family moved away as soon as they came home to see what had happened. Although I no longer live there, I still put out a pumpkin and a dead animal on our doorstep every year, no matter how disturbing or weird it was to the neighbors.

Although I'm not there anymore, I swear sometimes, I hear its blood-curdling screams late at night, every Halloween. But maybe that's just PTSD. For your bonus episode, Creepy Presents, Bees Under My Skin, written by some guy. I was a good kid That's what my parents used to say I think parents just say that when their kids don't whine and complain and throw tantrums about any little thing She'd say

You're so sweet because we dipped you in sugar when you were born That was that was a funny thing to say But I think it was just her way of saying She appreciated that I wasn't a terror growing up Unless she knew something I didn't In which case Fuck you, mom. You should have warned me.

I was an army brat, but not like a lot of people think. So many kiddos with parents in the military move around a lot. We didn't. My dad had enough pull, if you can call it that, that when he got the chance to take command of a base, he took it. And when he got there, stayed there. He probably didn't hurt how close we were stationed to the Arctic Circle. It wasn't Thule, but it wasn't far off.

I didn't experience my first 60-degree day until I went off to college. I didn't go the military route, but mom and dad never asked me to either. It never felt like a big deal. Moving out and going to college was, though. I guess I didn't think about that until recently. How mad my dad got when I said applied and been accepted to a college in the Midwest. I thought that if I wasn't going to be in the army, that at least they'd be proud that I was trying to advance my education. Words were sad, but none of the right words.

I never saw my mom so sad as the day that I moved out. I visited the campus on my own over winter break my senior year in high school. I was excited just to be off a base and fantasized about what it would be like to wear shorts on anything more than a dare. I'd never seen a honeybee in real life. before. So here I am. First semester away at school. I've worn shorts every day. I didn't notice at first. The bees, I mean. At first, there were just a few around. Girls would let out their little shrieks and swat them away. Others would say to leave them alone. The bees only sting when they're scared because their stingers have barbs, and if they sting you, the barb gets stuck in

your skin and tears out of them, effectively killing them. It's a last line at it. offense. More than anything, I was just cautious. I'd had my allergies tested when I was in middle school and they said it wasn't allergic to anything. But just to be safe, I'd go inside when I saw them. I've heard that you can develop allergies randomly in life, so my chance at. At first, it was just a random bee. But as the season went on, they were more and more around at the point that the school sent out an email about the unusual activity. The science nerds in school, were going nuts over it. Heavy bee activity was a good thing. Bees dying, I guess, means we all die. Here's the thing that I learned about bees. Honeybees are most active in the spring, but they remain

active throughout the summer and into the fall. When the air attempt starts to cool off, they start to prepare for winter. In late summer and fall, worker bees labor long hours, collecting enough nectar to feed and maintain the colony throughout the winter. Bees visit flowers to obtain carbohydrates, nectar, and protein, found in a pollen. They need the stuff to survive the cold months. The first time a bee landed on me, it tickled. It just sort of walked along my skin. Think of it like the birds and some Disney story.

They'd show up all friendly and just want to hang out. But more started to show up. I never got stung they would just land on me. At first people were. thought it was a joke. I'm not laughing. I think maybe mom and dad hoped that would be all right. I think maybe they didn't want to say anything because if I was all right, if it skipped over me,

they thought I'd be mad at keeping me in such cold isolation my whole life. As the air attempts got colder, I think the bees got more desperate. When they found a source of whatever they were looking for, they dug in, literally. I was taking a nap. I woke up as I felt something tickling my arm. I thought it was a stray hair, but as I looked at my shoulder, I saw a bee there. It wasn't on my skin. It was burrowed into it, like a cat or dog or something turn around and nuzzling into a blanket.

The bee had started to push into my skin like a finger into Plato. It nestled into the pockmark of my skin and I just stared at it. I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what to do. It's like there's something in me that they want, that they crave, something sweet. More bees come. I think they got in through open doors, through vents. They would land on my skin and just do this little dance, pushing over each other to get

to my skin, to get into my skin, and it's like my skin wants them. It pushes apart and invites them to nuzzle in. Not all the way. I can still see their heads or their backs. They twitch there. I can feel them squirming under my skin as more and more cover my arms. As the skin sits to cover them in small patches like a blanket, keeping them safe and warm and fed.

I can feel them buzzing in my flesh. I can feel them buzzing in my teeth. My arms are starting to look like a honeycomb as they push into it. Some fly away and leave the divvets there, almost big enough for me to push the tip of my pinky feet. finger into. Others come and fill the holes and push in further and further. I'm not pleading. I'm just becoming holy, holy. I think that's it. Like I'm some deity for them. They want to be with me and inside me and my body seems to want them too. I wonder if the queen will come, if she'll want to

lay eggs where it's warm, where there's food. They're moving toward my stomach and over my back, buzzing happily, chittering to one another and praise of my flesh that they burrow into, my flesh that covers them and keeps them safe. Some walk across my face, but it's not as soft as my arms and chest and stomach. Some walk around my eyes. Maybe it will be soft and warm behind them. They live on me and in me now. I don't leave my dorm room.

people scream when they see me they say stay calm they say they will find help I don't want help I don't need help but I would like to talk to mom and dad before the queen shows up for even more from creepy

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