Creepy - Day 7 - Tunnel Rats Part 1 & Creepy Crawly

Episode Date: October 7, 2022

Tunnel Rats Part 1***Written by: No One of Consequence and Narrated by: Danielle Hewitt***Creepy Crawly***Written by: Laugh Man***Content warning: eye trauma***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.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.

Reapy presents. The 31 Days of Horror. Day 7. Tunnel Rats. Part 1. Written by known of consequence and narrated by Daniel Hewitt. Debunking myths and urban legends has been a thing longer than most people think. It's only because of TV shows and documentaries that most folks are aware that it's a thing at all.

My name is Diane Kruger, and I am one of those few who have made it their mission to prove legends to be true. Debunking them is just an unfortunate side effect. I'm a part of the tunnel rats, and we're starting a project that will hopefully get assigned for a show. There is a long, tragic history to the Jericho Healing Pool. Hundreds of explorers from dumbass teenagers to professionals have gone to. into the caves, only to never be heard from again. The expansive tunnel system has been thought to be haunted by the ghosts of former explorers. The owner of the land have decreed that no further exploration of the caves will be permitted,

and trespassers will be prosecuted. After the last unauthorized group went in 15 years ago, a guard post was established to keep more dumb kids out. Multiple amateur groups have requested exploration permits, but all have been denied. Until now, the tunnel rats will be the first to go in since the unfortunate deaths of those teenagers. Eight local high school students went in, but only two made it out. Fifteen-year-old twins, a brother and sister, were the only witnesses to the tragic events. The other six were never recovered. According to the survivor's statements, they explored

nearly four miles of tunnels, and heard all manners of things in the dark. Their leader, Kurt, age 18, and a quarterback for the varsity team, began to exhibit signs of mental unease after a few hours. After going through an extremely tight passage, they came out into a vast cavern, but that's when Kurt lost it. He claims the other were whispering about killing him, but none said such a thing. They tried to calm him, to assure Kurt that they were all friends and didn't want to harm him. Unfortunately, Kurt didn't believe them. Being the strongest, Kurt attacked the group and killed his girlfriend by repeatedly bashing

her head against the stone wall. The twins claimed that he became endowed with unnatural strength and started throwing the others around like rag dolls. They fled, running back the way they came. But Kurt was too fast. He started appearing ahead of them in the tunnels, as if he knew the entire king. cave system like the back of his hand. The only reason the twins made it out was because they shoved Kurt down a drop-off. His attention was focused on stomping another of their group to death.

They backtracked through the tunnels until emerging into the daylight. Why had these good students gone searching for the Jericho healing pool? Prior to their ill-advised exploration, they had been at the school's Halloween dance, and were bored. One of the other football players dared Kurt to go looking for the pool. Kurt convinced the others to go with him, including the twins who were science geeks. He needed someone with brains to help them through the tunnels and get the proof that they'd found it. Emergency rescue crews went in to recover the bodies. The twins had been making a map as they explored and indicated where the body should have been. All they found was blood splatter, and the search was called off after a few hours. Not because they gave up, but because members of the

crew began reporting unwarranted paranoia and headaches. As soon as they came out of the cave, everyone started to feel better. Their accounts of the recovery attempt, along with police reports, witness statements, and a copy of the map were included in the information packet provided by the property owner. Gerald, founder and team leader for the tunnel rats, wanted to reach out to the twins. Reading their accounts is one thing, but interviewing them would not only provide some insight, but be an excellent segment for the show. I highly advised against this,

and as the team's leading expert on this investigation, they were forced to listen to me. I grew up in Jericho, and not only did I know all the students that died, I was very close to the surviving brother. I know things about this legend that aren't in the information packet. Gerald threatened to fire me for refusing to give him the survivor's name, but without me,

He wouldn't have even known about this legend. The only reason we got permission from the property owner was because I was the one who approached him. Besides, the brother's health isn't very good right now. He's got an in operable brain tumor that has resulted in huge chunks of his memory being gone. As for the sister, she is incredibly protective of her brother since that Halloween

and wouldn't let any of the tunnel rats near him. Talking to them would only result in harassing survivors of a horrible ordeal and provide no further information than what we already have. The legend of Jericho Healing Pool has more to it than haunted tunnels that drive people into homicidal rage. I've done extensive research into this investigation that goes back to when I was in high school. Over the years, I've come across dozens of accounts that fit the pool's profile, but names and locations tend to be vague or obscure after 100 plus years. The earliest account I've been able to find dates back to 1853, and I found it in the local church's archives. The Catholic

Church has had paranormal investigators long before the team was ever created. They hold the largest collection of debunked miracles, paranormal phenomenon, and legends that exist. This goes beyond ghosts, hauntings, and exorcisms. Everything housed at the Vatican itself is nearly impossible to get your hands on. But things stored at local churches are a different matter. Father Milton allowed me to peruse their archives. And that's when I came across the Royal Blue Tome. Father Sillion O'Neillian O'Neill used this book as an investigative journal. And there were dozens of accounts that I found fascinating. The last investigation he wrote about was the healing pool of Jericho Village. His account is a wealth of information I'd never imagined to find. Father Milton would

only let me photocopy that specific entry. Thanks to my discovery, he realized that this tone belongs in the Vatican archives. Truthfully, he shouldn't have allowed me to copy what I did, but he too remembers what happened to those kids. The pool is said to be a large pond in the deepest reaches of the tunnels,

glowing a brilliant blue. The waters are a thick consistency, like flimsy gelatin, incapable of healing anything, be it sickness, physical ailment, or even side effects of age. Many believe the pool to be a fountain of youth and is capable of bringing a person back to the peak of their health and age.

The mystical properties of the pool are at their strongest between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice, in layman's terms, around Halloween. However, the pool isn't the only thing at its strongest during this time. So are the perils laid before it. Halloween is the most dangerous time to go exploring, but I've convinced Gerald it's the best time for us. Most of the tunnel rats are skeptics,

and don't put much stock in ghosts, so they don't see it as a risk. The students went in on Halloween, and the sensationalism of going in on that night will help us get picked up for a show. We pride ourselves on authenticity, so changing the timestamps on our equipment isn't an option. Tampering with our collected data

would only call our integrity in question. In this profession, that's a career killer. We stand at the mouth of the tunnel armed with all the equipment we can stand to carry. Cave exploring requires its own specific equipment. But so does our investigation. All that stuff gets a bit heavy. But between the eight of us going in, we managed to keep our packs to about 30 pounds. It doesn't leave a lot of room for extras.

But some of the equipment won't stay on us the whole time. We have extra cameras that will be set up here and there. lots of explorer-grade glow sticks to help us light up new channels and phosphorescent paint sticks to mark our progress. The twins tried using chalk to mark their trail, but it was hard to see. The paint sticks right in glowing paint and are easily seen in the dark. I'm definitely not going to make the same mistakes twice. Activating the cameras on our helmets, I turn on my flashlight harness,

ready to take my first steps into the cave. I've more than memorized the map the twins drew, and I take the lead of our party, though Gerald still claims party leader. I'll just take point, decide which directions to take, mark the passages we travel, and make all the decisions. But he's the leader. Gerald's need to be in charge is understandable since he founded the tunnel rats a decade ago, and I've only been with them for three years. But he's already getting on my nerves. This is my home turf. I'm the excellent. expert here. And his constant questioning me is growing tiresome. It's not the ghosts whispering in my ear that's got me. We haven't even made it in the tunnels yet. Since we arrived in Jericho, he's been

up my ass about every little detail. The air is cold and damp as we climb down the 40 yards to the first chamber. Rocco and Gerald are the next one's in, carrying a relay unit between them. Helen, Travis, and Jacob followed the extra cameras that we'll post up in the next one. the known chambers. Denise and Caitlin bring up the rear, towing the cables that will attach the relay to the monitor equipment topside. The ninth member of our crew, Leonard, will be up there with the security guard monitoring our progress. Communication between those on the surface and those underground has always been a difficult task. They set up the primary relay in the first chamber, a cavern just large enough for us to stand up, and two cameras so Leonard can receive all of our

wireless signals through a hard line. As we begin to go forward, farther into the caves, the signal strength will fade. But we will have an army of smaller relays that will create a daisy chain. Once the relay and cameras with their bright lights are set up, the crew begins to take their baseline readings for documentation. Everything seems normal so far, save for the crawling of my skin at the back of my neck as I stare down the middle tunnel. Five tunnels branch off this one chamber, two are dead ends. Two more wind off, but the map doesn't show where they go. The middle tunnel is where the students went, a faint white chalk mark still visible. Using a paint stick, I marked the tunnel with a bright green X and proceed.

Gerald takes position right behind me, having to hunch over several times as the ceiling keeps changing height. Between the lot of us, there's enough light to see every inch of the narrow passage. But that won't be the case after the next chamber. It opens up considerably for a while. The amount of noise that the others are generating makes it nearly impossible to hear any of the ghostly whispers that are already starting. Not on purpose, mind you, but brushing against the walls can't be helped. Neither can Gerald hitting his helmet on the ceiling every ten feet. Hell, the passage gets so narrow that his broad shoulders can't fit through

without taking his pack off and walking sideways. Gerald says he's worried about getting stuck, but as I take his pack, I assure him that we're almost to the second change. I don't consult the map, and this makes him skeptical. Chamber 2 is a hell of a lot larger than the first. Stretching to 20 feet up, stalactites hanging down, but not by much. They are relatively short for as old as the cave is, but the ground is littered with small rocks. The rocks are broken off pieces of the hanging formations.

As the others do their jobs, Gerald radios are progress to Leonard. I slowly continue forward as Caitlin takes the stills of the cave. In those brief moments of staring into the darkness in front of me, I hear faint whispers. After a handful of shots, Gerald snaps to Caitlin to stop, claiming the flash is giving him a headache. It's harsher than he usually talks to her, and just the type of thing I've been keeping an ear out for.

That's how it started with Kurt, getting short with his girlfriend, and speaking to the others with obvious aggravation. Even though I've only begun to hear the voices, they've been slithering into the back of Gerald's mind from the beginning. Gerald realizes his tone and apologizes to Caitlin. Rocco is suddenly standing next to me, our flashlight's having a hard time penetrating the darkness. Hitting the switch on my harness, I turn off my lights,

and he gives me a look. Before he can say anything, I put a finger to my lips and turn his harness off as well. Almost immediately he yips in an embarrassingly girlish way As the darkness exposes faint outlines of people There are four of them Drifting silently in the dark No footsteps to be heard

The others realize what's happening And try to get their evidence Making as little noise as possible One is brighter than the rest Standing next to the wall some yards away I watch it closely as it steps forward And falls down a hole Just like that, all the specters vanish.

The chamber opens up wide, about 30 yards across. But it looks so much wider than that as we turn our lights back on. Horizontal cracks in the wall stretch up to five feet tall, revealing deposits of crystal-like overgrown geodes. Two more tunnels offshoot toward the center of the chamber. But it's the one at the very end we want. After 20 minutes, the crew will be. finishes recording their readings of the spectral phenomenon, and I lead them further into the chamber.

I stop where the brighter specter fell and crack one of the large green glow sticks. I drop it down and after ten feet the stick hits a slanted floor, only to roll off beyond what we can see. I tell everyone this is where the twins knocked Kurt over the head and threw him down the drop off. Caitlin takes a couple of pictures, but Gerald doesn't say anything this time. He seems distant, not focused. The next stretch of tunnel is the longest, and the most difficult so far. Halfway through Gerald starts talking to himself, and I can feel a headache coming on. A couple of the others mentioned getting them too, and we take a break once the tunnel opens enough for us to sit down.

We all drink some water, some have a snack, but we all pretend not to hear the soft whispers coming from nowhere. They don't say anything I can understand. but unwarranted feelings of paranoia and anger begin to bubble to the surface. I dig into my pack and I pull out a shock case. Turning my back to the group, I take a small vial from the case, pop the top, and down the foul contents. Before anyone can get suspicious, I put the vial back, close the case, and slip it into my pack. Helen wants to turn back, claiming we've done enough for our first night.

Our permit allows us to be here for our first night. up to two weeks, so there's no reason for us to push too hard. I can see Gerald is about to say something unpleasant. But it's my voice that says we're going to continue on. The group is becoming uneasy, fear making itself more apparent with every passing step. In front of me, I catch glimpses of more specters, but say nothing. This isn't why I'm here. I don't want the others slowing our progress with more readings. As it is, things are progressing faster than last time. Mere feet from the part of the tunnel where Kurt lost his mind. Caitlin screams in shocked surprise. A ghostly face just flashed in front of hers and she's freaked.

Gerald starts yelling at her, for being a scared, worthless employee whose only contributing asset lies between her legs. The ferocity of his verbal attack scares the group, freezing them in place. Gerald raises a fist to strike Caitlin. I jump on Gerald's back, bringing a wet cloth over his face. wrestling with him, he breathes in the fumes and loses his strength. After a minute, the fight is out of him, and he goes to the floor. Not unconscious, but barely awake. Tossing his pack to Travis, I ask Rocco to help me get Gerald through the extremely narrow passage.

No one wants to continue. So, I start dragging him myself. Reluctantly, they follow, thinking I've gone mad too. It's a struggle, but everyone gets to. through. From the shock case, I pass everyone a vial and order them to drink it if they value their sanity. I get the contents down Gerald's throat, as he begins to come to the others start in with questions. Digging through my pack, taking out various items, I begin to confess when the sound of a growl permeates the air. With the flare gun I retrieved from my pack, I shoot it into an overhead opening,

narrowly missing the giant insect-like monster that scurries back the way it came. for your bonus episode. Creepy Presents Creepy crawly written by Laughman. At first I thought it was just an eyelash. I was suffering through that annoying feeling of something poking and scratching the surface of my eyeball

as I moved it back and forth beneath my eyelid. I rubbed around pushing in hard, which both relieves irritation but also creates slight fear doing permanent damage as those odd flashes of light appear with every nudge of my finger. But damn, does it feel good? More and more, I tried to dislodge the lash from the sticky surface. I attempted to open my lid, but the stabbing pain was still there,

so I pushed and squished and thumbed the object around, working it toward the tearduck for extraction. I finally get it over to the corner and pass my lids a smitch. I can feel the pointy end of it sticking out just beyond my other lashes. I go in for the kill, but stop suddenly when I feel the would-be lash move between my pinched fingers. No, it can't be. Eyelashes are just another form of hair. They are alive, they don't move.

I hold the end of it tight between my thumb and pointer finger and try to extract it, but feel I move again. I definitely stir it in my fingers' grasp. It isn't just some tormenting eyelash. whatever it is. It's alive. A chill dance sits down my spine and goose bump surface at the thought of a creepy, crawly trap behind my eyelid. Grossed out, I let go immediately and slapped a poem my hand across my face, forcing the lid's closed. Panicking, I scanned my room for answers as to what could be lurking in my eye.

Dust, dirt, debris? Was it a bug with some kind? Maybe it's a gnat trying to escape. I can feel I'm moving under my lid again, and I push down harder with my palm trying to stop its travel. I take my other hand and slowly open only the corner of my squeezed eyelids, finagling my thumb and pointer so my middle finger can put a stop to this thing. I quickly strike my digit, the pressure on my eyes causing it to water instantly, but I force

my lids to stay still. Tears stream down my face. The air stings and burns the surface. of my bare white orb. The creature begins to flail, confirming it was anything but an eyelash. So I hastily switched my plan and pinch it between my thumb and pointer again

as I began to pull it away from my eyeball. Intense pain radiated from the area as if I were tearing the white to my eyes with nails. Did this thing have teeth? The bug, wiggling in my fingers, squirming to get free in my grasp is still attached to the edge of my eyelid as I book it to the bathroom mirror.

disoriented and hanging on to it for dear life. I fumbled my way through the doorway banging into fixers, desperately searching for the lights. I find the switch, flip it on, and stumble to the mirror to catch a glimpse of this tiny beast inflicting an enormous pain. There, between my fingers, was a small worm latched onto my bottom lid.

I pull its tail ever so slightly just to see if I could attach it. but flinch in pain confirming it does, in fact, have teeth that have sunken into my fleshy underlid. I pull again, my lid departing from the slimy surface of my eyeball, the worm gripping with all its might. The harder I pull, the more it sinks its teeth into my flesh ensuring it won't be letting go. A drop-up blood begins to form where it's connected to me. I stop pulling and feel it again trying to get free from my grip.

My eyes dirted around the sink for something I could use to kill it. Tweezers. That should do it. I grabbed them and leaned into the mirror. The tiny wiggling of the tail is still trying to escape my fingers. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the pain of its teeth again and pull back quickly, swapping my fingers for the tweezers. Another teardrop squeezes from my eye at the sheer pain this microscopic creature is causing.

Now that I have it between the edges of the tweezers, I was sure I could squeeze it in half, severing the body and hopes of releasing its death grip on my lower lid. I again embraced myself for intense pain. Place one hand on top of the other, it produces much force on the tweezers, and one fell swoop and one, two, three, pinch. I cry out in pain as the worm clamps its teeth so hard

it feels like my eyelid is being cauterized with a torch. Reflexively, I release my grip on the tweezers, and they fall to the floor. Both hands rise to my face to protect it from the throbbing pain. I paw my eye again, trying to grab its tail again, but mist and feel it submerged beneath my lid. Its body's scraping as it moves like a shard of glass. I throw my gaze back to the mirror and use both hands to prime my lids apart.

My eyes bloodshot from irritation. I begin to sweat. My face and neck contorting as I force my lid to stay open. The air stings with every second the passes, drying the surface of my eyeball. But I must find this thing. I have to stop it. It's driving me insane. I lean closer and closer to the mirror, searching every inch of my eye for the thing invading my socket,

grunting in frustration and terror as I search. Then I see it slithering its way across the bottom of my eyeball toward my tear duct again. This is my chance. It's easier to trap when it gets to the corner. I've already had success once before. This time, I'll get it before latches on. I wince with each slither, with each scrape of its body, my iris following it slowly.

With every ounce of will I have in me, I force my eye to stay open, resisting, and the temptation to blink it back into comfort for fear of losing the worm again. patiently, I wait. And just as it reaches the corner, I slowly begin to move my finger toward it to pin it in its place. As I'm about to strike, the worm shoves its head into the tiny opening of my tear duct, inflicting, excruciating pain. I shout as the feeling of jagged metal digs into my eye. The fear of this parasite making its way inside my body with its sharp intrusive form to wreak havoc on my inside sends me into total desperation to get it out.

At the last second, before it forces itself deeper, I'm able to grab its tail again, screaming as I hold it tight between my fingertips. A burning sensation tore through my entire body. I look around the tiny bathroom searching for anything that could help me. My eyes dart back and forth until a glint of metal drew my attention. A razor blade. No. I couldn't possibly.

Shocking pain sends chills to my body as the warm advances further into my tear duct. I grabbed a razor blade in desperation, lifting it to my eye. The cold metal between my fingers shakes as I nervous to bring it toward my face. Raising it slowly, carefully, I try to find the right angle of cut it without causing permanent damage to myself. I think I can cut the worm in half. If I can't squeeze it to death with tweezers, surely a razor blade would ever. and this torment. My hand-shaking,

I prepare for the pain a third and final time. My only hope being that the agony would be short-lived with the slice of the blade. Sucking in a sharp breath, I tug. Instantly the worm sank its teeth into my inner eye. I shriek and hastily sliced at it, but nothing happens. Its sharp teeth remain clamped, its body unchanged.

This impenetrable worm, only clenches harder as I saw at its body, but still nothing happens. I ferociously carve and scream, its body resisting, the pain intensifying, my grip loosening from the blood forming around my eye until finally. The worm slips from my grip and shoves its way completely through the tiny opening. The pain is unbearable, and I drop the razor. Its whole body is swallowed by my pink and bloody flesh, ripping through my deep, tear duct into the void behind my eyeball.

I can feel it traveling across the back side of my eye, tearing everything in its path as it moves. I rub, hit, and claw up my eyes. I feel the worm moving around inside. What do I do? I apply pressure to my socket with my palm. My other eye scans a bathroom for the lost blade. I see a gleaming on the floor under the corner.

I fall to my knees and try to pick it up with my slippery fingers, cutting my hand as I find its edge among the blood trying to get it off the floor. I lift it to my face, hair and flesh stuck to it, but I don't care. I need this pain to stop. I stand up, pressing my back against the wall. The pain reaches its peak behind my lids. I once again prime my eye open, moving the dirty blade closer and closer, twitching involuntarily as it inches closer. Suddenly, I feel the worm began to burrow into my retina, so I plunged the blade deep into my eyeball.

I scream as I repeatedly slice and gouge at the milky whites and destroy my eyeball with every movement. Warm blood spurting from the wound, thick red dripping down my arms, chunks of eye exploding all over my hands, and I gouge and gouge to stop the pain. instant relief comes and I sink to the floor. Pieces of my eye hanging from the socket in a bloody mushy mess. I sigh in relief and begin to giggle as I realized what I've done. I pick up pieces of my eye and shove them back into the wound, but I won. I won as I sit there catching my breath and maniac a laugh escaping between each an nail. I begin to feel some irritation

and my other eye it feels as if there's an eyelash stuck beneath the lip for more information on this podcast including how to submit your own story for consideration please visit creepypod.com you can also follow us

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