Creepy - Day 3 - The Gravedigger Had An Odd Conversation

Episode Date: October 3, 2020

The job is normally so quiet...***Written by Ryan Brennaman***See your donation rewards podcast at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQ3SrH_3fsROXFAjomKcUtw***Music 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.

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and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or our 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 three, the gravedigger had an odd conversation, written by Ryan Brennaman and narrated by Michelle Kane. It was hardly past seven that morning when the grave digger saw the earth stir.

Fingers rotted and skeletal burst forth from the dirt, and with force they pulled their bodies to freedom. It was happening all over the graveyard. Every grave, every square inch of dirt was overturned. Soon there were thousands, so many more than the graveyard. actually held. A horde of the undead stood before him. The gravedigger watched with his shovel in hand. He found himself simultaneously horrified and fascinated. The creatures stumbled about. They moved with urgency, but their decrepit bodies only allowed for so much. Yelling and screaming, they started to coalesce near the center of the graveyard. They were revolting, damned souls. Just as the gravedigger went to turn to flee,

a hand gripped his shoulder. The grime soaked deep into his sleeve. It leaked down his arm. Behind him, a man, what was left of him, stared into the gravedigger's eyes. The corpse's face had long since lost its tissue, that it had eyes, returned anew to their sockets. That showed nothing but fear. The ghoul spoke to the gravedigger, and the gravedigger listened. Go, it begged of him, please, go. What sort of madness was this? What trickery of hell?

The gravedigger brought his shovel to bear, and he swung it down on the corpse. It was met with a revolting moist crunch. The figure fell. His fingers twitched and his skull leaked. From behind, three more figures came. Two ignored the gravedigger. They bent to pick up the wounded husk at the gravedigger's feet. They dragged him on with all the strength they could muster.

They carried him like a wounded ally. The third figure, what happened? had once been a woman, perhaps, spoke to the gravedigger. She pleaded. Go, please, tell them. The gravedigger couldn't move. He wouldn't. These fiends were no masters of him. Why did they command him so? For what purpose? Answers. He demanded answers. Why? He asked the words falling out of his bearded face. Why aren't you in the ground? The ghoul didn't blink.

She simply told him the terrible truth. Hell isn't safe anymore. Those words, the gravedigger couldn't even comprehend them. What was the meaning of them? Hell? Safe? What kind of haven was the pit of eternal damnation? What do you?

talking about. Had she a tear to cry, she would have let it fall. Instead, she had to use her trembling voice to convey her fears. Lucifer is dead. He killed him. He's coming. The words held no meaning for the gravedigger, for he had not been there. He had not seen the horrors that even the denizens of hell itself couldn't describe. Then, from the graves, dark figures with eyes of flame and hatred came. They moved like smoke, and they filled the air with their sulfurous fumes. The gravedigger watched as demons, Satan's orchestrators of pain and suffering, began to assist the poor wandering souls below.

They started to stack atop each other. One by one, their bodies built them. foundation. What in the name of God? He could only ponder. A collective lamenting cascaded down from the hills around. The gravedigger saw them. From every direction, more hordes moved together. More undead. They lumbered forth with his cemetery in their sights, their hellish rendezvous. The gravedigger was speechless. The ghoul instructed him. Go, to your family.

We'll need them too. My. He questioned the request. My family? The living, the thing corrected. Her gaze skyward. I'll need them too if we are to make it. Make it? Where?

The ghoul cried as she wandered for. urgency flooded her words. The gates! We have to make it to the gates! The gravedigger shook his head. Their aim was clear, but his teachings were concrete. What's judged is judged. He won't take you, or any of us unworthy.

That stopped her if just for a moment. She turned, for he knew nothing. We seek not to. Redemption, she said. We damned seek to warn the righteous. The honesty in the ghoul's voice brought a heavy weight to the Gravedigger's stomach. He couldn't stand. The earth below had started to tremble.

The gravedigger fell to the dirt as his knees gave in, and with his face to the ground, he heard it. There was a deep, unbridled scream echoing below the surface. a demented laugh, the sound of a thousand hornet wings and insect feet. It grew closer, climbing. As he stood, bodies were flung atop each other as the demons and the forgotten built their tower to salvation. Who is he? The gravedigger asked. It was his turn to plead, but the corpses said nothing. It didn't take much for the gravedigger to realize that they couldn't respond even if they wanted to. They didn't know.

As the gravedigger ran home, the ghoul uttered a final mantra under her breath. The words still tasted so alien to her, so vile and disgusting. It was all they had left. God must know that he is coming. For more information, including pictures and videos, 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 at gmail.com. 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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