Creepy - Day 8 - Tales From the Gas Station Part 8

Episode Date: October 8, 2018

There's a gas station at the edge of town...***Written by Gas Station Jack***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.

This is the bloody disgusting podcast network. This episode of the 31 Days of Horrors presented thanks to patrons Lisa Ann York, Alicia Sabatini, Claudio Pomer, Frank Baez, Sean Goodwin, Melissa Lowry, Jimmy Cassius, Stephanie Lason, Devin Thielen, and Mercy Shook. If you'd like to learn more about how you can support the podcast, please visit the reward to yours at patreon.com slash creepypod. 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. Creepy presents. The 31 Days of Horror Tales from the gas station. Part 8, credited to gas station Jack.

With guest narration by Owen McCune and Steve Blizzin. It's been about an hour since my last post. We haven't had any customers yet, and if the gas station weren't an active crime scene, I might have asked one of the other employees to squeege you the large pool of blood into the drains by the cooler.

For those he audit the loop, you may want to catch up by listening to my earlier posts. I don't know what Arnold's personal grooming routine looks like, but I have to assume he spends at least 20 minutes a day in mustache prep. But even factoring that in, he should have made it to the gas station by now. I called him a few minutes ago to make sure he hadn't come back to bed and to make sure I hadn't imagined the phone call in the first place. The conversation went something like this. Hey, Arnold?

You on your way? Okay. Okay. Which one? Spencer Middleton last night. Made any other contact. Well, actually, he's here. He came in and some stuff happened and now he's dead.

I already told him all this. Man, I really miss Tom. Did you not realize that? I'm sorry. He answered. The phone rang earlier. I just woken up from this privilege to devour. Okay.

I said. I guess I'll see you when you get here. I ended the call and checked the charge on the phone. The battery was sitting close to 50%. What's the deal, Lucille? Asked Benjamin. Arnold's on his way here on foot, but we might have another problem. Oh, shit.

You guys see that? Carlos asked. pointing out the window. I couldn't quite make it out from where I was seated behind the counter, and I didn't feel like hobbling over a corpse just for a look. What is it? There's a bunch of naked people on the road walking this way, Carlos answered. The hell you say?

Said Marlborough, who'd suddenly taken interest. I pressed his face against the window for a better look. Those aren't just any people. I know them. That's Marla. and Tyler, and there goes Fred. Well, at least those were the names I gave them. Benjamin crossed to the frozen drink machine, throwing over his shoulder a quick.

They friends of yours? Family, actually. Well, they were anyway, before they disappeared. But I don't remember them looking like that. Like what? I asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling. Like... He took a second to find the words, but all he came up with was...

Well, they look funny. They continued walking closer to the gas station. Close enough by now that I could see them. At least a dozen people, stark naked. The closer they got, the more detail I could make out, and the more I wish I couldn't. Their eyes were milky and pale. May gets crawling out of infested crevices all over their bodies.

Their skin dirty and covering lesions and bruises. Marlboro was certainly not wrong. They looked funny. I'm sure you know the Hollywood-style zombie walk. The shuffle of an undead body with impaired motor skills. The scariest part of these people approaching the front of the gas station was that they were walking 100% perfectly normally. Just a bunch of decaying nudists out for a stroll.

There's a loud crash that snapped us out of our probably rude staring. We all turned to see Benjamin and pull the frozen drink machine to the ground and was attempting to drag it over Spencer towards the front door. The sticky syrup concoctions spilled out all over the ground, mixing with the congealed blood and coating the floor in a red and brown and purple viscous soup. There was no way we wouldn't have an insect problem after this. Marlboro and Carlos didn't have to ask what was going on.

He instantly knew the plan and began yanking down whatever fixtures weren't bolted in place and piling them up in the barricade against glass doors. I would have helped if it weren't for this broken leg. Besides, look like they got this under control. You boys think you can stay alive long enough for help to arrive. Benjamin asked. We've got almost 90 years experience staying alive between the three of us. Carlos joked.

Benjamin directed his next question to me. You got any weapons in this place? I told him no. The only thing I have is a half-empty canister of gasoline in the supply closet and some really hard jerky. but he was welcome to whatever he could find. That's when he started MacGyvering some spears out of chair legs and broken glass from the drink case. About ten minutes ago, the gas station lost power. Now, it really would be a great time to have a giant pet glow in the dark butterfly.

Stupid raccoons. It's been pretty quiet, save for the wet gutteral whispering coming from those people outside. Benjamin's still searching for weapons. while Carlos finds things to push up against front door, and, assuming he hasn't fallen asleep, Marlborough has taken the back door. I was feeling pretty useless after finding my confiscated and my crutches, so I figured I'd take this opportunity to type up the account of what happened.

Just in case Arnold gets here too late. And in the spirit of preparedness, I should say a few things to whoever finds this message. Or is it whomever. I never could get that right. First, to the owners. I'm sorry about the mess. Second, to her.

I'm sorry we didn't run into each other one last time. Third, to whomever keeps dumping tar into the ditch outside the gas station. I hate you. I guess that's all I have to say. It's been a weird, crazy ride. This is Jack from the gas station Signing off one last time I didn't die

Sorry, it's been so long since the last update I just got my laptop back from the police Special thanks to whoever gilded me by the way I don't know what to do with Reddit Gold But brings warmth to my soul I know you guys are probably wondering what happened Well Last week I met a dark god

We were in the gas station without power for hours It's cold this time here, so we huddled together around the plate of scented candles and ate pork grinds and canned beans. Marlborough almost dozed off a couple of times before Carlos decided to loot the energy pills behind the counter. He handed them out and we all took a few, washing them down with cold coffee and telling ourselves it was for alertness. But all they did for me was create a heartbeat of arrhythmia. That shirt would be funny. If those things finally broke in here just to find the four of us dead from heart attacks? Well, not funny.

But, you know, Carlos tried to strike up a conversation with Benjamin a couple times, but the bearded man wasn't very social. You army? Nah. I knew a guy. He was a ranger in the army. You remind me of him. All right.

Those things out there. Any idea what we're dealing with? You ever seen anything like that before? Nah. You got any family? I checked Spencer's phone throughout the day. It wasn't getting any service anymore. I tried 911 a few times, but even that wouldn't go through.

When the battery got to 5% I turned it off. We might need it later for an emergency call. Eventually, the adrenaline and pills started to wear off, and I remembered that my leg was still healing from a complex fracture, and maybe I shouldn't have agreed to come back to work so soon. I did the cripple walk back to the front desk to grab my meds. While I was there, I spotted this still unlawful. unopped package on the shelf beneath the register.

I decided to ignore it, and instead grabbed the employee whiskey bottle that was behind it. We told ourselves it was for nerves, but all it did was give me an even worse heartbeat arrhythmia. A few hours passed. After we killed the first bottle, we opened another. Then Marlborough got into the energy drinks because we needed mixers. At some point, the former cultist pulled out his stash and lit a joint, and, without asking, I might add, turn the whole station into a hot box. I couldn't remember if I'd taken my pain meds yet, so I went ahead and took them. As the sun started to set, I had two thoughts competing for first place in my mind.

First, sure is getting dark these days. Second, I think we might be getting a little too fucked up to handle what's about to happen. Time became even more illusory than normal once the laptop died and we were. we had no way of knowing how long we'd been waiting. We started measuring the time and candles. Our snack food and morale raised each other to depletion. At some point, Carlos got me away from the others to ask what I thought about Benjamin. I told him I thought he was the nicest guy that had pointed a gun at my face all week.

Carlos told me he had a weird feeling about him. I reminded Carlos that he'd killed Kiefer a couple times and maybe he should get off his high horse. Benjamin yelled at us from across the room. What are you two talking about? Anime. I lied. I think you bought it. Get back over here.

I don't need any more dead bodies piling up tonight. Benjamin was in the corner, warming his hands over the candleplate. It was the only source of light in the building. It was casting shadows that could maybe be described as spooky. If I weren't in such a serious life-for-death situation. Some of those shadows look like faces. smiling, laughing at us idiots. One of our two look like old presidents.

One of them asked me what time it was, and holy crap, I was tripping. You okay, man? Carlos ass snapping me back to reality. I honestly have no idea, asked Spencer Middleton in the gurgle. What do you mean? I thought you did it. Hey, where's Marlborough? I asked.

Benjamin picked up his spear, formerly my crutch that he had paracorded his knife to, and asked, Who the hell is Marlboro? Is there someone else here? Marlborough, the other employee. I looked at Carlos who just shrugged and said, I don't know no Marlboro. How many of them pills did you take? Had I imagined Marlborough this entire time?

Did I just Tyler Durden this guy into existence? I tried to sit down on the tarp, but it turned in me lying on my back while the room spun. I could feel the human debris squished beneath the tarp fabric as I rested my head. How much of any of this was real, anyway? I know. All those years ago, the first doctor tried to prepare me for life with my condition, so they didn't know exactly how everything would play out. But every case had a few of the same side effects.

Of course, there would be weight loss, fatigue, headaches, all the signs in normal. physical illness early on. As a condition developed, there would be more interesting side effects, hallucinations, memory loss, the works. And of course, I can't be properly anesthetized. They tried in other cases to induce medical comas, but that just messed things up further. I'm always wide awake and half lucid during surgery. If you want to know what it's like, I'll tell you the truth.

It's boring. They gave me a couple years tops. I haven't been keeping track of time. Right then, Marlborough walked into the room, zipping up his fly. Presumably, he'd just come from the bathroom, but who really knows? I pointed at him and yelled, That guy! You see him, right? That's Marlborough.

It's Marlborough! Carlos looked where I was pointing them back at me. What? You mean Jerry? Oh, that's right. He has a real name. him. I hate it when he calls me Marlborough. Benjamin set the improvised spear down and turned his attention back to the fire.

You better get him under control, said Spencer. Hey, wait a sec. Aren't you supposed to be dead? He said back. Tusha, Spencer. Who are you talking to? asked Carlos. Spencer, I answer. Well, stop that. It's freaking us out. Two candles burned from start to finish before Benjamin decided that help wasn't on the way and her best chance of survival was to fight it out with the things outside. I disagreed, but Benjamin informed me in his own polite way that it wasn't up for a vote. You peel back the layers of the barricade just enough to get a view of the outside.

Once we knew what we were dealing with, we could come up with a better game plan. Only he couldn't actually get a good look because something was blocking the view. Something just on the other side of the glass doors. Benjamin yanked the rest of the barricade down and took a few steps back to Marvel at it. Well, you don't see that every day, said Jerry. Nope. I can't do it. I'm sorry. His name's Marlborough. We were trapped there, inside the gas station. On the other side of the doors, a network of trees had grown together, twisted and knots and pressed against a glass. They were so densely pressed into a single

wall of tree trunks that not even light could get through. For all we knew, it could have been daytime outside. We have to get out of here, said Benjamin. We checked the back door, but it was the same thing. I often wondered how long a person could survive inside the gas station without any new supplies coming in. I'd run the scenario in my head a million times. Boring nights, what else is there to do?

I'd run the thought experiment for countless different contexts. How long could I survive if the gas station were transported back in time to another planet? if there were a zombie apocalypse, etc. What I'd deducted was that, under ideal circumstances, I could live off the supplies on hand for four years if I could find a source of water. Six weeks, if not. These were not ideal circumstances. We'd already smashed up, weaponized, or eaten almost all our supplies.

If we were trapped here, it wouldn't take this long to all Donner party on each other. While I was pondering this in the hallway by the cooler, we heard the sound of glass shattering from the main room. Benjamin raised his spear and led the way back. The wall of trees was still there on the other side of the doors. A mess was still there. Everything was where we left it, with one exception. The tarp was pulled back, and Spencer's body was gone.

A series of footprints coagulated in the blood leading from where he should have been to the shattered glass of the front door. Like he'd just gotten up? Walked over and was absorbed into the trees. I need you boys to think real hard. Benjamin said. Is there any other way out of this place? Well. Marlboro started.

I shot him a look and shook my head, but I guess he couldn't see in the dim candlelight. Or maybe he was just too dense to understand. There is that hole. Hole? What hole? The hole in the secret room back here past the cooler? Secret.

Room? Yeah, right over here. Marlborough pointed at the blank space on the wall where the door used to be. The owners had decided that the smartest thing they could do when they found out about the secret room was to remove the door, build a good old-fashioned wall and forget all about it. But that only works if everyone agrees to forget about it, Marlboro. You're telling me that there's a secret room behind there, and a hole in that room that we can maybe fit inside and escape?

Why didn't you boys tell me about this earlier? He didn't wait for an answer. Benjamin went straight to the wall and started smashing it to pieces with his spear and then, after he got it down a little with his bare hands. After a minute, the wall was once again a door. While Benjamin lit and placed a few candles around the giant hole in the door, I grabbed Carlos and pulled him aside. Hey, I said, I should tell you something.

I opened that package. the one that looked like a present. Yeah? He said. Yeah? I said. I'm not sure at what point I'd finally cracked and opened it, but I've been carrying around the content of the box in my pocket for at least one candle.

Just like the last package, there was a note with this one. It read. I didn't expect you to use my letter as part of the story, but thanks, L.O.L. I didn't mind you using it. That was very neat. I liked it. I was very surprised. Thank you.

I enjoyed your story and knew it could be really great from the beginning. That's why I wrote what I did. I was surprised, but in a good way that you used my letter, L.O.L. Thank you. I'm honored. Really honored. Underneath the letter was a small handgun. I knew enough about pistols from playing video games to know to check the clip,

and sure enough, it was loaded. I showed the gun to Carlos, who said, that's a Ruger 380. Is that good? Well, it's a gun. So it'll probably have more stopping power than a chair leg. Why didn't you give it to him? Carlos gestured at our fearless leader.

I don't know or trust him. Good point. Here, I said trying to hand it over. I'm not a gun guy. No way, you keep it. I got both legs. you need it more than me. Benjamin yelled at us from the secret room.

Y'all ready or what? Time to see what's down here. Then he jumped in. I may have neglected to mention that it was a 10-foot drop to the cave floor below. I also may have taken a little pleasure in the sound of him crash landing and the pained moan that followed.

For the rest of us, we rolled up the tarp and put some knots into it like a poor man's rope ladder. I have to give credit to. to tarps. Those things are incredibly useful. We had spent hours above ground in a room with a dead body, unrefrigerated food, Benjamin's body odor. We were all eating canned beans and I think somebody threw up in the garbage can. My point is this. We were all smelling pretty bad. To the point where I was doubting that I still had a sense of smell. But once we went into that hole, I knew for a fact that we hadn't. The smell down there made our gas station.

and funk seemed like Cologne. The very worst putrid odors from the storm drains around the station were nothing compared to this. Is it possible for a smell to be heavy? Because that's the best word I can think of for it. Not thick, just heavy. Carlos Marlborough took turns barfing. When they were done, Benjamin handed out torches he made from gasoline-soaked rags and chairlegs. I don't know what that guy's deal is.

but he sure is crafty. The cave was a straight tunnel, starting underneath the gas station and heading away from town. It was plenty tall enough for all of us to stay comfortably, and there was a slight incline, taking us downhill as we walked further into the hole. What the hell is this? Benjamin asked after about 20 feet. He waved his torch at the wall, and I saw that someone had spray painted a message on the cave wall in red. It said in shaky handwriting,

Rita the raccoon ate the cocoon. I said it a few times in my head and was pissed off at just how close it came to rhyming but didn't, like a song slightly off key. The handwriting was eerily familiar, especially the capital R. I couldn't remember why. There was another lawn gnome on the ground beneath it.

We continued further into the cave, Benjamin way ahead of us, me bringing up the tail, hobbling along the best I could with just a single crutch. The deeper we went, the narrower the cave, the stronger the smell. Nothing about being down here away from the gas station felt like an improvement from our previous situation.

But it wasn't until we made it to the tree that I really decided we had messed up. I don't know how long we've been walking down there. Maybe a half mile or so. Crutch miles feel a lot longer than normal miles. But we eventually came upon an enormous black tree taking up the width of the cave. It looked like one of those thousand-year-old sequoias, being enough to put a two-lane road through.

Holy shit! Enunciated Benjamin. I was the last to see what everyone else was wide-eyed and gawking at. The tree, in addition to being enormous, had some characteristics you wouldn't expect a tree to have, specifically human body parts. A few arms and legs poking out at random spots. and right at eye level, a human face.

Hey, said Marlborough. I know that guy. It's Patrick. He touched Patrick's face and he peeled off and plopped to the ground like a wet Halloween mask. I don't think he's going to make it. Benjamin said as he pulled something out of his jacket pocket and stuck it to the tree. What is that? I asked. Surprisingly, it was Marlboro who answered. That looks like.

C4 plastic explosives to me. Benjamin chuckled. Wow. You win the prize for that one, Graemean. Yeah, it's the last of my explosives. I've been trying to kill this thing piece at a time for the last week, but it just keeps growing back. I have to kill the root system. Blow it out and kill the brain, so the rest of the network will die.

That was you that put that bomb in the gas station, I said. Yeah, well, back then I thought the building was the epicenter of this whole thing. Hey, interrupted Carlos. Jack was still in the building when you planted that. I know. Um, guys? Well, tried to get their attention, but it wasn't working. You knew? You would have died if that thing went off.

Guys? Look, assholes, this is war. And in war, there are always casualties. You can't make... peanut butter without smashing a few nuts. Hey guys, what? screamed Benjamin. I'm a little busy.

Marlboro pointed back the way we came. We all turned to see Spencer standing in the middle of the path. We could smile on his face. Hi. Miss me. Carlos screamed at me. Jeff, the gun! I pulled the weapon out of my pocket and chucked it as hard as I could.

Smeked Spencer right in the face and he fell over. I was very proud for the two seconds it took me to realize what I'd done wrong. What came next almost happened too quickly for me to comprehend. Something burst out of the wall next to us. An enormous object, the size of a car and mostly handling it. It wrapped its giant fingers around the other three and pulled him into the wall and then I was falling. The earth had opened up below me and I was sliding through a dark tunnel. No. I was being pulled.

More like swallowed, really. It went for a while. Dirt filling my nose and ears and mouth, and then whatever it was, spat me in a pitch-black room on a rocky wet piece of brown. I landed on my bad leg and probably broke it again. Well, I thought, at least this time I managed to hit Spencer. As far as the last moments on Earth go, this one was a slight improvement over last week.

The room I was in was cool, not cold, and cavernous. I could hear my breath echoing off the walls. I could also hear something else breathing. All at once I became aware of another presence down there, an entity in the room with me. It's hard to explain, in the same way I remember being really hard to explain a dream right after you wake up. It's something you have to experience to understand. But the feeling was something like being plugged into a shared consciousness with another intelligence that was putting thoughts directly into my head.

Of course. It might just have been all the drugs. Welcome to my home. Came a loud voice from somewhere in the pitch black room. I'm sorry it's taken this long, pressed to meet face. I can't see anything. Oh, shit. I'm in the throne room of a dark god and he sounds like an internet troll.

I guess that makes sense. I'd just want to get this over with. Do you think you could maybe turn on some light so I could actually see who I'm talking to? He let out a very human-sounding sigh and exclaimed, Fine. Out of nowhere, the entire room turned into an intense, furious, bright light. All I could see was pure light.

I covered my eyes, but even then I could see the bones of my hand through my eyelids. Even with the meds, that shit hurt. Too bright, too bright! I yelled. Split the difference! Wow, responded the voice. I didn't realize we were going to be such a big baby. And then, just as suddenly the brightness relented.

After a moment, my pupils adjusted, and I could see what I'd been talking to. It exclaimed. And tremble before. He, if it was a he, I'm just going off the sound of his voice, it's about the size of an elephant, swollen and round with a tanned yellow hide. The best animal I could think of to compare him to is an enormous tick, with six rows of stubby arms on either side, six rows of sagging breasts, and a human-sized head on top. The head contained a somewhat human face and no neck.

The body connected to the earth at the widest point of its stomach, like it was half buried. And, to top the whole thing off, he had a red mohawk. He smiled at me. What? My hair. Isn't that amazing? He looked up at his mohawk. I guess.

Guess? Do you be any idea how much effort I put in doing my hair like this? Didn't have wasted my time trying to impress you. That's all me. Okay. I said attempting to push myself to my feet only to remember that my leg was pretty broken. I was immobilized. Underground.

High. without any weapons. There really was no chance of escape. If you're going to kill me, do you just mind getting it over with? What is it with you, people? So untrustin. So prejudice.

Why is it at any time you see something you don't understand, you think it's kill or be killed? I'm not the monster here. You are. Why am I here? Why'd you drag me underground? Stop killing my children.

You've burned up so many of us. What did we ever do to you, huh? The Kiefer Plants. Yeah, just back-ups because that idiot's so clumsy. They're harmless, though. I've been trying to put some people in office so I can get a little political influence in this awful town. To take over the world?

I asked even though I was starting to see where this conversation was going. No. I want to pressure the city. counsel to cut back on logging. I'm trying to save the world. But you and your awful friends keep killing us and trying to blow me up. But Spencer, he beat the shit out of me. That guy is awful.

And he's following your orders. Well, excuse me for thinking that people have the potential to be rehabilitated. I hired Spencer because I needed someone to protect Kiefer. And I gave them very specific orders not to kill anyone. she agreed to. But you've killed tons of people. The cultists, their entire compound. Yeah, actually, no.

I hate to be the one to say this. Those guys killed themselves. Yeah, it was a really sad mass suicide. If you listened to them, I think it was pretty obvious. You guys should have seen it coming from a mile away. I mean, consequentialism mixed with moral obligation and suffering? He waved one of his six arms in a jerk-off motion before continuing.

Perfectly good, fully formed adult bodies go to waste. Do you even know how hard it is to make one of those from scratch? It's not easy. But you sent those things after us at the gas station. Again with the self-centered hero complex. It was never about you. I sent my children to bring Spencer's body back here. I was hoping I could get him back in time to rebuild him

without any permanent brain damage. I think next time you see him, you should apologize for what happened. I swear, ever since Romero made zombie school, people see a dead man come back to life and instantly they get this urge to kill, kill, kill. Whatever happened to calling us a miracle?

Nobody freaked out when Jesus came back. Are you saying that Jesus was like those mathematicists? Just a reanimated corpse? Is that really what you want to talk about? Jack? But doesn't Dark God mean like evil? He sighed. When I was awake, Dark God had a completely different connotation.

But you can't use my branding is your excuse for burning up Kiefer? You asked me, you deserve the asswhip and you got it. But... I searched my mind for any proof that the Dark God was a monster I knew him to be. But the only thing I could come up with was a sad, icy cold realization. We're the monsters? I'm afraid so. I'm sorry.

Good. That's a start. So, this is it? You're the reason for all the weird stuff going on out here at the gas station? He laughed again and wiggled his head, which I took for his version of shaking no. Nope. I'll be honest with you. I have no clue to have.

Half these things are. Your gas is weird, and I don't even know why. The ham plants and the kefir were made. The smell, I'll fess up. That's me too. But all the other stuff, man, you know that weird glowing wormbug thing? That was pretty weird, huh? So, what do we do now?

Now I send you and your friends back home and you quit killing me. That's my deal. Can we agree to that? Yeah, I think so Should we shake on it? Or At that moment an enormous hand burst out of the wall and wrapped its fingers tightly around me

The next thing I knew I was coughing up dirt Down on all fours in the street outside the gas station It was morning Oh, good Said Benjamin You made it out too I looked over and saw the other three standing there Covered in black dirt

It was back where it started The trees were all gone leaving no sign that they were ever even there in the first place. The gas station was a wreck. The front doors were smashed out, and the raccoons were excitedly running a loot train for whatever edibles they could carry from the front to their nest behind back. What happened, man? asked Carlos.

I'm not really sure, digging the clumps of dirt out of my nose and ears. Well, you're lucky. Your friends made me wait a few minutes to give you a chance to get out. I looked at my hands. They were nearly black from all the layers of dirt coating them. Wait for what? I asked. For this. Benjamin answered as he pressed the button on his remote detonator.

Somewhere deep inside the woods came an explosion that locked the earth and sent birds flying into the sky. Carlos' car alarm went off and the pavement cracked. Black clouds slowly started to fill the sky. I felt something inside my mind scream and die. Well, said Benjamin. My work here is done. If you don't mind, I'm going to get lost before 5-0 shows up. Then he walked off into the forest.

Hopefully never to be seen again. And that's what happened. If you can believe it, I'm back at the gas station, working again. Arnold's on personal leave from the police force, and I didn't care to ask for details. so we have a new deputy babysitting us. I'll tell you all about her another time, maybe. The police investigated the incident

and ultimately concluded that we were victims of hysteria brought on by a gas leak, and once again, there was nothing supernatural to be reported. I don't know if this is the end for the dark god, but I do know that I haven't felt any compulsions to continue digging ever since Benjamin blew up that underground tree. Things are getting back into our brand of normal. I still work way too much.

I'm still keeping a journal. And weird things still happen at the sheet of gas station at the edge town. In fact, just yesterday, people started reporting that they'd seen something in the woods that looked like an enormous raccoon with bat wings, stealing small animals before flying off into the forest. They even said this winged raccoon monster glows in the dark. Marlborough just came up to me and asked, Um, you know there's a guy in the bathroom dressed like a cowboy? I assured him that I did not know that.

This may be the last update for a while. It's going to be a lot of work putting this place back together. And I've got a whole new crew of part-timers to train. So, until next time. For more information, including pictures and 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. Email.

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