Creepy - Day 5 - He Hunts

Episode Date: October 5, 2017

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This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepypastas 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. Chilling presents the 31 Days of Horror. Day 5. He hunts.

Four years ago, my family moved from the city. We couldn't take the fast-paced life and we were wealthy and well-educated, so we figured we'd move somewhere remote, peaceful. I have before us, western part of Maine is where we settled. Now, in our family, we had me, the oldest son, and you had my father, my mother, one brother, and one sister. Things are always fine around here. We lived off the land, and life was great, then everything changed. And it wasn't for the better.

It's horrifying. It, and I'm sure I'm next. So to whoever reads this, I hope you never stay here. It will get you too. These are my final thoughts and my horrific story. It all started when my sister went for water one day. She didn't return for almost an hour, but we lived alone out here. So we thought, I still hear her scream sometimes.

That ear-splitting cry of terror, and the scene of my father and brother flashing looks at. extreme terror before breezing through the door. They came back, glistening blood on their pants and shoes, crying uncontrollably. They had found nothing left of her but a few bone splinters. Her ripped clothes and a puddle of blood. Things were never the same after that day. Mother never really spoke again.

After seeing her daughter's remains. The next person to go was my mother. my father. My food was running low when we were snowed in, so he couldn't go to town. He grabbed his rifle and took to the wilderness around us. He didn't come back when we expected him to. My brother and I decided we would go search for him in the morning. There was no need to go out then. Around 1 a.m. I was dozing in a kitchen chair. There was a low guttereral growl from outside the door. Then a resound in, bang, bang!

A flash of a molten black fur creature on two hind legs sprinted past my window. That set me off. I screamed to the top of my lungs until my brother ran to me and asked what was happening. I recounted the story to him and he grabbed a rifle and handed me one. The motioned silently towards the door. He made to open it and cracked it open very slowly. gasped in fear. It was our father.

What was left of him? His corpse was mangled to extreme lengths. Arms were gone. Eyes were gouged out. It was covered in claw marks that dripped crimson. My brother collapsed in horror and shut the door weekly. I left the house anymore. My mother still never spoke.

She would just weakly nod or shake her head to communicate, if even that. My brother would break down at anything that reminded him of our lost family. But what I realized is that whatever that thing, it's not stopping until it's killed all of us. I feel it. A few weeks had passed. We lived in fear. Some nights we would hear those horrid growls, and we would hear those horrid growls, and we would make sure no one fell asleep that night.

Instead, we would stay up with guns in hand until daybreak. The morning after a long night at Paranoia, my brother proclaimed that he was taking supplies and heading away to town. Freedom or death, he said. One of them happens today. He offered to take us with him. I pleaded with him not to go.

But he insisted. I told him I would not go. My brother just shook her head mutely. He said he would send for help when he got to town and to keep everything locked. Don't you dare leave. Don't you even stick your nose out of that damn door, he said. I know I was only 10 months older than him. But I felt awful about him being the one who was going out.

I knew who was going to get him. I knew. That night he walked out just before the dark fully struck. having made sure we were okay and had supplies and began the nightmarish walk to the car. Got to the car and opened the half-frozen door after a few violent tugs on the handle. It was then that I heard the sound that unnerved me on the spot.

He turned the key and as the car started to a blood-curdling scream lit the night air. The beast left the trees from the side opposite, my brother. The creature must have been almost eight-furtling, feet tall with a mangled black wolf's face and body, but it walked on its own two legs. Rather sprinted. My brother opened his eyes and fears and smashed his foot on the gas pedal. The thing pounced onto the car and violently smashed his window.

My brother steered wildly trying to get away from the creature, but he crashed the car, smashed into a tree. And if that didn't kill him, the beast reached into the car and pulled, still squirming body out as a car. The creature looked right at me through the window from a distance before slicing open my brother's stomach with his razor-sharp claws. Blood dripped from his body and he went limp. Their creature walked slowly toward the door, knowing he wanted me to fear him. He knew I was frozen.

I reached the door and I hugged my rifle tight. There was a thud and another three bangs, although they went slowly this time. Bang. Then it screamed. It's a shilling scream. It got of a ban sheet and stampeded off to the woods. I couldn't open the door to retrieve my own brother's remains. I haven't slept since then. I just watched the door and listen for him, waiting for him to come back.

It's just me and my mother now. She doesn't eat or sleep or drink. She doesn't move from her chair in three days. Until her death, I don't think she ever moved again, actually. It was a long night. Four days without sleep. I heard the growls every night since my brother's grisly demise. But tonight, they were louder.

I loaded my rifle and waited for her thinking he would come through the door or the window in the kitchen. I was wrong. My mother sat in the other room, but even with my phobia of it, I let her be. It was late when I began to hear. here is scraping along the house sides. Four times he circled. We were trapped and he knew it. I stopped and my heartbeat quickened.

As if in slow motion I realized where he stopped just a moment too late, right next to the side of the house where my mother was. I knew my fears were true when I heard the disheartening sound of the window shattering in the other room. I was routed. I heard the beast call and drop to my niece. Saw him walked in my mother and in one stroke took earth in a heartbeam just a few short hours ago. The scrapings are starting again.

Whomever finds this? Leave quick. The scraping stopped. I don't have long. These have been my final thoughts and the last ones I'll ever have. Please heed this warning. Attention, Helmart Shoppers. Do you like stories?

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