Creepy - Embrace the Darkness & The Friendship God Will Know You Are Lying

Episode Date: March 24, 2022

Embrace the Darkness***Written by: P.J. Blakey-Novis and Narrated by: Nate DuFort***Content Warnings: Drug use, hallucinations***The Friendship God Will Know You Are Lying***Written by:  Natalie Sanchez and Narrated by: Michelle Kane***Find our reward tiers and how to get your bonus magnet 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 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. Embrace the Darkness. Written by PJ Blakely Novus and narrated by Nate DuFort. I was seven or eight when I had my first nightmare. At least, that was the initial one, which was vivid enough that I can still recall it. It was short, not a lot of detail being brought.

provided in my mind. I saw myself lying upon the bed in my small room and there in the furthest corner between the top of the wall and the ceiling was the creature. It had formed a kind of nest, strings of white hanging from the ceiling as it nestled there, web-like entrails surrounding its dark form. In my dream I could not see it properly. It appeared just as a shape. But the terror which I felt that night is something that I remember well. I did not sleep in my own bedroom for a number of weeks after that night. When I was 14, I awoke in the early hours of the morning, screaming. My sleep had been interrupted by another nightmare,

a continuation from the one I had all those years previously. I was still sleeping in the same bedroom. We had resided at the house all my life. only my bed was on the opposite side of the room at this point. The monster, however, was back in its original spot, now appearing directly above me, and this time it had begun to move. I recall the dream as clearly as I do the previous one.

I remember in my dream state gazing up at the creature and thinking, that's the same monster from my dream before. It was a feeling of wonderment. rather than fear to begin with. That was until it started to shift, an almost human-like face unfurling, jet black in its entirety, except for two pupiless, perfectly round white eyes.

As the terrifying face began to push against the web which it had created for itself, I screamed, waking from the nightmare as I sat upright in bed. My 14-year-old self was more able to accept that it had only been a nightmare. But I still felt uneasy each night, desperately trying to think about other things

before sleep took me. No sooner had I managed to banish the dream from my mind, then I had another one, yet again, the same. It was only the briefest moment, that awful face continuing to press against the web as if it were trying to come closer to me. But the level of terror that I felt was enough to begin affecting me during my waking hours. I would see the creature in a whole host of places,

more and more often, as the weeks went by. My family thought that I was suffering from arachnophobia at one point due to the way that I'd recoil from the sight of a spider on its web. Shadows in the corner of rooms would take the form of that face. Nowhere, felt safe. Between the ages of 15 and 20, it haunted me. I saw it almost. daily. Regardless of where I was, it would find a way to reveal its face. The constant torment had serious repercussions for my mental well-being, resulting in a dependency on anti-anxiety medication as well as on the insistence of my doctor, some experimentation with antipsychotics. I blamed my childhood bedroom. I longed to sleep anywhere but there, and so, at the age of 16,

I left. My family understood, to a point, my reasoning, but they were frightened for me. It was not as though they believed that there was anything dangerous about the dream itself, of course, but they could see how my mental health was deteriorating so rapidly.

I found a small room not far from home, renting from a man who was mostly away on business, thus leaving the whole house to me. I thought it'd be perfect. I thought I would be safe there. Nevertheless, the dreams became more regular still, each visualization bringing the creatures cracked blackened face closer to mine. I became dangerously close to the edge of existence,

feeling the immense pull of both anxiety and depression. My mind was a constant battle between being too frightened to leave the house and too afraid to stay in it. I never knew if I wanted to be alone, or if I needed company. I found it difficult to distinguish between what was real and what was not. As much as I struggled, I managed to hold down a job, and I managed to control what the doctorate called my symptoms.

There were specific places which I had to avoid, such as dark alleyways and suspicious-looking marks along the sides of buildings, and this caused me to take the long way to and from work each day. I did not dare to tell my colleagues, most of whom I would drink with after work, for fear that they would ridicule me. And so, I suffered my burden for months on end, positive that one night the creature would finally reach me. In my dreams, I was always back in the bedroom at my family house, the dream being virtually identical, each horrific time that it came to me. It had been devastating that my plan. to live elsewhere had not helped, and now, regardless of anything, that thing was etched so deeply

in my mind that had become a part of me. I wanted it to go, to leave me in peace, but it would not. I searched for help, sure there must be a way of erasing the memory, but there was nothing. All I could do was embrace it, fight the feeling of gut-wrenching dread, and not pay it any attention. This is what I had decided, and as hard as it was, I began to face my fear. I started to take the more direct route to work, music blasting in my ears, eyes darting anywhere except where the shadows would lie. I'd stay awake for much longer than was healthy, pushing myself to the extreme until even the mix of caffeine and recreational drugs could not keep sleep at bay. slowly started to subside, sleep having been replaced with a deeper level of unconsciousness,

and I felt as though I was finally winning. That was how it had seemed to me anyway. From the outside, I was a mess, sleeping only two or three hours each night, dependent on amphetamines, rarely eating. My parents were worried, making their disapproval of me ever so clear, and I reacted in the easiest way that I could. I stopped seeing them. I chose to do that rather than risk the nightmares returning. My friends and colleagues did not seem to see me as the disaster that my parents described me as, possibly because they were all a mess in their own ways.

We were all young. We all wanted the same kind of excitement, and we all felt a need for escape. On the approach of my 21st birthday, someone suggested we went camping, a group of us, to some woodland not far from home. It was always deserted, I was told. It could be fun, they all said.

My anxiety kicked in at the thought of being in the woods surrounded by that pitch black enveloping darkness. I told them I would think about it, tried to brush it off as camping's not really my thing. However, they had made the decision, and they insisted that it would be great. There'd be drinks, there'd be drugs,

so potentially I could stay awake all night. I'd have plenty of company. I'd be safe. Peer pressure being the thing that it is gave me little choice when the day came around, and so, with just a bag of essentials and a large torch, I made my way out with five others. I was very self-aware. I'd learned what triggered the fears, and I knew how to manage them to the best of my ability. I was also very keen on drugs, but for the sake of trying to cling to my last strands of sanity, I'd avoided any hallucinogens. It sounded like an insane idea for me to try anything like that.

I was seeing things far too often without the help of drugs. This is the reason I refused the mushrooms that night. Even so, I did not explain why. And this is the reason my friends gave me them anyway, without my knowledge. From what I'd been told previously, hallucinations are all well and good, provided you know that you've taken something. If you have no way of knowing that it is the drugs rather than reality,

things become much more sinister, especially if your mind is already packed full of terrifying images. We made a fire, sitting around it, passing a couple of bottles of cheap scotch back and forth. I drank it, preferring that to the bloating, sleep-inducing effects of beer. I let the cannabis pass me, knowing from previous experiences that I would not me out and with a couple of pills inside me, avoiding looking into the darkness. I began to relax. One of the girls announced that she was going to get some snacks and wandered off to the pile of

bags and coats that we'd slung at the foot of a huge tree. The drugs had completely destroyed my appetite, and I could not face food. But as I tried to decline, she smiled so sweetly at me. Foolishly, I thought she was interested in me, coming back to the group with only a handful of pastry bites. She popped one in her mouth and held one up for me. Her fingers running across my lips, my mouth opening. Two were all that I could manage and no sooner I swallowed them, then the girl began laughing. She made no explanation as to what it amused her so much, and I mistakenly put it down to her drunkenness. I was unaware of the hour, but it was late enough

to be dark during the summertime, certainly approaching midnight at least. The cover of the trees in the remote location had created an eerie shadiness as night enveloped our merry group. I'd lost track of the conversation. It had been centered around some band I had not heard of, and my eyes had begun to wander toward the trees. The clearing in which we were sitting was small, aside from a little trail along which we had wandered. We were now completely surrounded by woodland, and I was starting to feel anxious. The nearest trunks were only a few meters away from me, and I could detect their form as they stood towering above us menacingly. Beyond the trunks was an inky blackness.

Nothing else was visible. Almost nothing. As I looked over the shoulder of the person sitting opposite me, I noticed two white circles, a few feet from the ground, perfectly spherical and close enough to one another to be eyes. pupilless eyes. I took a double take trying to convince myself that it was just my mind playing tricks on me,

that I was safe despite the threatening feel of my surroundings. On the second look, I could not see them, but then they were back, this time a few feet to the left of where they had been previously.

A look of fear must have been noticeable as my friend started to ask if I was all right through the giggles and knowing smiles. I told them what I'd seen and as amusing as they were finding my sense of dread, one of them confessed

to the mushrooms. I was angry, but tried to conceal it, terrified of embarrassing myself, but equally convinced that what I had seen was real. If I was to be afraid, then so should they, as reprisal for their cruel prank. I began to talk about my dreams, the things that I'd seen, theatrically telling them the scary story around the campfire. I described the blackened face of my visitor, the bizarre form that it seemed to take, the sticky imprisoning web that had formed. Everyone listened intently, enjoying the tale.

The guys laughed it off, but the girls more easily frightened began scouring the tree line for anything out of place. In order to prove his bravery or to reassure the girls and myself that there was nothing to fear. The young man opposite me stood up and announced that he needed to take a piss and would be back soon. Unless the white-eyed monster gets me,

he told us with a chuckle. We heard the crack of brittle twigs as he made his way into the darkness, the rest of us waiting in total silence for the sound of his return. He had not ventured far and we could hear the splash of urine as it sprayed against a tree.

Then, we heard, nothing. No more rustling leaves, no more crunching footsteps, only silence. Convinced he was playing a prank on us, we began a new conversation, certain that he'd get bored and reappear shortly. After a good ten minutes or so, there was still no sign, and it became clear that we would need to investigate, something that not one of us was willing to do alone. My heart was racing, the terror combined with the drugs now pushing it to its limit. The girls began to call out for our missing friend, becoming angry that it could be a joke.

It only took a few steps into the woodland before someone screamed. The rest of us enabled to see the gruesome spectacle raced to get back to the clearing. I'd been at the back of our group and so was the first one to reach the fire. I turned around to see that we were now half the number we had been when we arrived.

Just myself, and two girls stood in shock. We called to the others to no avail, but did not have the courage needed to return to the darkness to look for them. All we could hope to do was grab our belongings and run, to try and find help. No sooner they bent down to pick up our bags when I saw it again, the eyes staring from the darkness.

It all happened so quickly. The speed at which it claimed its prize was unexpected. In a matter of seconds, the creature had appeared, long, thin legs propelling it rapidly in circles around the tree that our bags were strewn beside. The white, tangled, sticky web sprayed from the end of its short, almost bird-like arms, and after the shortest moment, it had bolted back into the night. Silence fell once more, the girls now secured against the trunk of the tree by the creature's web. It had engulfed them with such force that they'd been bent and twisted, limbs contorted at angles which were not

usually possible, one of their heads suddenly facing the wrong way. They had survived the envelopment, then suffocation would have surely taken them, but I had no doubt that they had met a quiet, albeit horrific demise. I could not run, fear having fixed me to the spot, and I now knew that this is what had been waiting for me. It had been on its way since that first dream as a child. I stood beside the fire with my eyes closed and took a large gulp from the whiskey bottle. Embrace the darkness, I told myself. It seemed inevitable.

I waited, but there was nothing. I knew that the horrors which I had just seen would drive me over the edge and I saw no way to go on living after this. I did not want to be the sole survivor to have to face my fears day in and day out once again. Eventually, I opened my eyes, wondering why the beast had left me standing,

only to meet the gaze of two white circles. The black cracked face was inches from mine, a crooked smile having appeared, revealing equally sooty teeth. Simultaneously, the creature and I raised our arms, and as the web began to fly from it, I held the rough, jet-black skin in an embrace. I held it in my arms,

feeling the tightening of the restraints as they bound us together, my lungs beginning to struggle for air. The monster and I became one, cocooned with each other in inescapable bondage. I felt myself slip from consciousness, the only sound being the crack of my bones as I was crushed against the blackness of my nightmare. After years of torment, terror in every waking and sleeping moment, the creature had finally taken me.

Even so, I had also taken it. And now we were both complete. Creepy presents. The friendship God will know you are lying. written by Natalie Sanchez and narrated by Michelle Kane. It was supposed to be a stupid myth, a childish game you play with your friends. The rules state that there must be more than four friends. The longer you've known each other, the better,

because it was a test to see how loyal your friends were to one another. Sammy was the one who brought up the game. He claimed he found it on a Tumblr post and thought it was interesting. Of course, we all thought it was dumb, but as the night of fun continued, and thanks to the alcohol, my older brother, provided for my 21st birthday, why not indulge and give in to our inner child? We ended up back at my apartment since it was closest to the club. What were the rules, Marcus had asked,

while myself, Javier, and Carla, grabbed some things. snacks and water from the kitchen. Sammy, giddy with excitement, brought up the post and began to tell us the rules. Nora was hesitant. She said it sounded like a trap. And now, thinking back on it, as I watch my friends weep as I lie on the ground with ringing ears, I wish we took her more seriously. Rule one. More than four friends must play. The longer you've known each other, the better. Marcus counted. Him one, Sammy, two, Javier 3, Carla 4, Nora 5, Jewel 6, and myself 7. We lit the candles and sat next to one another in a circle. Rule 2. In order to begin the game, all friends must hold hands and say one thing they appreciate about the person to their right.

We held hands and sincerely made comments about one another. Rule 3. Admit a secret that you've never told one another. This one made me hesitate. I never wanted to tell my closest friends what had happened to me when I studied abroad. About the short fleeing I had had and his empty promises about never putting his hands on me. The bruises and cuts that littered my body and face. I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting those thoughts to come back. To my surprise, we all had secrets we'd kept, and I finally told mine. Javier was furious that I had lied to him since he was the main person I video called during my study abroad.

I had told him during a class trip I had fallen down a mountain during one of our class expeditions. We cried and held each other. It honestly felt like group therapy. Rule four. Admit something you envy about the person to your left. Don't lie. He'll know. We all said something we were envious about. It was primarily about the beginning portion of all our friendships, and we were no longer envious about them. At least that's what I thought. Jules said she was jealous that Sammy and Carla had had a fling in the beginning of their friendship. It made Carla laugh and tell Jules that he wasn't that good in bed. Even Sammy

said she was telling the truth. None of us caught on that Jules wasn't laughing authentically. Rule 5. Don't lie. He'll know. It was a repeat of the ending of Rule 4, but we didn't think much about it. It didn't feel as if we were lying. I was jealous in the beginning of mine and Marcus's friendship about how close he was with his family, especially after coming out to them. My family had disowned me, and the only person I kept in contact with was my little sister, and, well, even she didn't fully accept me. If you didn't lie, you have successfully played the game, and the friendship God has seen that your friendship is true and has blessed your friendship until your dying days. We sat in silence for a few moments. Friendship God?

Sammy didn't mention that in the beginning of the game. Wait, was it even mentioned? Sammy clapped his hands together, making myself and Nora jump. See, we are true friends. I love you guys. He slurs and smiles at us. I looked up towards him to return the smile. And then it felt like everything was moving in slow motion.

Sammy was yanked back, his head hitting the hardwood floor with the hard thud and was dragged under the dining room table. Javier and Marcus dashed over to try and catch him, but he had disappeared before they could reach him. They looked back at us in complete shock. That didn't just happen, right? Jules let out an airy laugh and disbelief, and I sat there frozen with fear.

There's absolutely no way this is happening. It was just a game. There wasn't a friendship God, or at least none that I had heard of. Jules dug her nails into her palms so aggressively that blood slowly dripped down her wrists. She backed away on her knees from the table before she was pulled up by her braided hair and pulled back towards the table. Javier managed to catch her ankle, but she kicked him in the face, thinking he was the thing trying to grab her.

Marcus dashed towards the front door, screaming that he was going to get help. He was always the savior of the group, trying his best to protect us when he could. But as he opened the door, the hallway of the apartment complex wasn't there. Instead, my dining room and the table were in its place. Marcus slammed the door shut and opened it again and again and again, like it would reset. There was no escaping my apartment. A shadowy disfigured arm reached from under the table and dragged him underneath before he could shut the door for a fifth time.

Javier, who was holding onto his bleeding nose, didn't see the shadowy arm creeping up from behind. It attached itself to the back of his neck. It pushed him forward. The crack of his breaking nose slammed into my eardrums. The hand slid down his body and hooked onto his ankle and dragged him towards the table. When I was finally able to move, I dashed toward him, but the arm was quicker. But I was able to grab Carla as her body tried to slide past me.

My eyes stung with tears from fear and pain. Her acrylic stiletto nails pierced into my forearms as I held tightly onto her. She begged for me not to let her go, and I tried. It's so hard to keep that promise. Out of nowhere, I felt a hand grab my hair and yanked me back. Carla's nails slashed my arms. I regained my balance just in time to see her disappear. I was alone in my dining room,

crying as I crawled under my table in search of my friends. Give them back! And I screamed. I pounded my fist on the floor, my irritated downstairs neighbor banged a broomstick back, yelling at me to stop whatever we were doing. What was I supposed to do? How would I explain this to the police? Hi, my friends and I were playing this sketchy game we found on Tumblr, and now I'm the only one left in our friend group. A sinister laugh caught my attention. It was so quiet I almost missed it had I not stopped crying.

I looked in the direction it was coming from. The shadowy arms snaked towards me. I grabbed it, digging my nails into its palms. Take me to my friends, you son of a bitch. It shook out of my grasp and closed itself around my neck. I didn't realize what was happening until my face had made contact with the wooden floor three times. It was trying to knock me unconscious before it took me to them. I heard a crack, and I felt a warm.

liquid coming from my nose. As I watched the floor move towards me, I braced for impact. I opened my eyes, and I wasn't in my apartment anymore. I didn't know where I was. I looked around. I saw each wall had an opening that changed every time I looked away. And when I stared long enough, the path within those openings shifted, some slow and others fast. I looked up and saw a mirror covering the entire ceiling of the room I was in. But it wasn't a room. It was a maze. The paths changed and disappeared. There was no escape. No! I heard Javier scream. Without a second thought, I ran towards him. I screamed out for my friends. I ran for what felt like hours. The stupid path wouldn't stay the same long enough for me to get close.

Don't worry, guys. I'll get us out of here. I heard Marcus say. After my sixth time running, I noticed a door that had always stayed closed. I held my breath and walked towards it. The path around it changed, but it itself stayed put. I finally reached it and pushed it open. Hello? Are you guys in there? I tried to whisper. Opel, no, get out of here! Get away, you idiot! Save yourself! A chorus erupted as I entered the room.

They were chained to the wall of the room, with their blindfolds resting around their necks. They were caked in blood, dirt, and tears. There was a tall man sitting in front of them. But there was nothing underneath him, like he was sitting on an invisible chair. I didn't care. I found my friends, and that's all that mattered to me. I sprinted past him, landing in front of Marcus. I pulled at his restraints. His and everyone's were made out of a medium-sized

rope, but it was acting as if it were metal. It wouldn't budge. I'm not leaving any of you, I cried. From behind me, the man let out a hearty laugh, and then I was flung against the wall. I don't know how it happened. No one touched me. I could hear my friends scream in anger. I've never heard Carla curse before, but she was using every single one of them. He crouched down to get at my eye level. His grin stretched too wide to be natural, showing a disturbing amount of blocked teeth. He had no eyes, no indents indicating where they should have been, and his nose was too small. Was this disturbing creature the friendship god? I was expecting a fluffy, cute, innocent thing and not this. He grabbed my face when I tried to look away and back at my friends, forcing me to look at his mouth since he had no eyes for me to look at. That's when I noticed his eyes were in his mouth.

They were small, barely bigger than quarters. I couldn't help but stare. I was surprised by how little fear I felt looking at this thing. All I could think about was how to get my friends back to the safety of my apartment. But how safe could it have been if it got us here? I smacked his hand away. My need to protect my friends began to make me angry with this being. He wasn't pleased with my reaction.

Before I could push him away and go towards them, he lifted his hand, lifting me into the air, I felt an invisible force squeezing and crushing my throat. I clawed at my own neck, scratching myself in the process in poor attempts to get it off of me. I could feel myself losing consciousness. Random white dots began to blur my vision. I could hear Javier screaming, pleading with the being to let me go. Sammy cursed at him, a collective crying. gasp, filled my ears as my body dropped to the ground with a wet smack. Then darkness welcomed me.

I sat up, letting the cold air into my lungs. I looked around. Where was I? I looked up and saw a mirror. I was in a maze, a maze that changed and morphed itself. Why am I here? Where did you take her? I heard Nora scream. Nora? Why was she here? I have to find her. Maybe we can get out of here together. But this damned maze!

I couldn't get very far without it forcing me back to the beginning of where I started. It felt like I was in Pac-Man, where those ghost creatures come from. I looked to my right and saw a faded green door, but I chose to ignore it, thinking it would move like the rest of this messed up world. After my fourth attempt, I noticed that the door always stayed on my right, no matter what direction I was facing. I held my breath and walked towards it. The path around me would change, but the path leading to the door stayed the same to poke my head through. All my friends were in the room and chained to the wall.

Oh, thank goodness, I found you all! I rushed to them, snot and tears caked my face. Wait, when had I been crying? I stopped in the middle of the room and turned around. There was a tall, eyeless man sitting in an invisible chair. His mouth pulls up into a grin. I shiver and disgust. I pulled at Nora's roped restraints, but it wasn't coming undone,

no matter how hard I pulled on it. Opel, please leave. Save yourself, she whispered to me. I shook my head. There's no way I'm abandoning my friends here with whatever that thing was. None of us notice the shadowy arm by the being sighed. It slid away from him and up the closest wall. It morphed itself into a sword.

Opel, look out! Sammy screamed, but it was too late. As I turned, I felt it impale me from behind, bursting through my chest. My blood sprayed all over Nora, Marcus and Jules, and they screamed in horror. Marcus closed his eyes as he cried and tugged at his restraints. I closed my eyes, no longer wanting to see my friend's faces as they cried while my life slipped away. I felt myself, go limp. I sat up again, a dull ache in my chest as I breathed in the cold air.

I saw the faded green door. This felt familiar, but I didn't know why. This happened several more times, and then I realized I was dying and coming back to life. I barged into the room and marched up to the being. No more! Why are you doing this? I screamed in his face. He just grinned and shrugged. Because, he simply said,

Because? I spat at him. He stood up so abruptly that I stumbled back and landed on my butt. Opal, you were the only one playing the game honestly. I turned to look at my friends. Shame glazed their faces. I created my game to prove platonic love exists within friendships. All the other gods laughed at me, stating that platonic love was only meant for families, mothers, and fathers for their offspring.

But I found some who went against that notion. You love your friends, don't you, Opel? I do, I answer back quickly. Then you love liars. He snapped back. I felt myself grow smaller. Your friends at any given point could have confessed their lies the moment they knew you were dying for them. But did they? He shook his head. I refused to look at him, but I didn't want to look at my friends either. I closed my eyes and inhaled.

Even if I have to do this a thousand more times, I will never stop. trying to save them from you. The being frowned, like he could see in my heart that I was serious. We didn't know that it meant his little game would have to come to an end. If I could prove that I truly cared for my friends, even with the information given to me, he growled, he held out one open hand and slowly began to close it. As it did, I felt every bone in my body begin to break.

and crack. I bit down on the inside of my cheek. I refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing my cries. You're blinded by love. I heard him say before my vision went black. I set up allowing the air to fill my lungs. The fade of green door was right in front of me this time. I stood up and knocked. For more information on this podcast, including how to submit your own story for consideration. Please visit creepypod.com. You can also follow us at creepypod on social media and YouTube. All stories told on this podcast are done so through creative common share-a-like licensing

or with written consent from the authors. No portion of this podcast may be rebroadcast or otherwise distributed without the express written consent of the creepy podcast production team and the stories author.