Creepy - Happy Curseday & Lazarus Taxon

Episode Date: June 22, 2023

Happy Curseday***Written by: Opalescent Custard and Narrated by: Heather Thomas***Lazarus Taxon***Written by: Jamie Anne and Narrated by: Megan McDuffee***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***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 simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence, Silence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised.

He presents. Happy Curse Day. Written by opalescent custard. And narrated by Heather Thomas. Fogg greeted me on the morning of my 23rd birthday. My arm twisted back to close the door behind me as a thin layer of mist settled upon my neon pink raincoat, enveloping my person in a hazy glow.

It was ten minutes to eight, and Kevin was still in a deep hibernation, having spent the last several hours gaming with his friends as they traded work horror stories and highlights from their respective Thanksgiving gatherings, his group gaming and gossiping into the wee hours of the morning. Kevin had promised to take me out to brunch around ten, but I wasn't about to waste the next two hours cleaning to kill time, so a quiet stroll around the neighborhood was easily more favorable. As I began my usual loop towards the main entry, which fed into our side street, I received a text from my mother.

Happy birthday, honey. Thinking of you and missing you lots. Here's to hoping next year you'll be blessed with a new addition to the family. We'll call later. Love you. My mother knew Kevin and I were considering engagement come the new year, but that didn't stop her from fishing for grandchildren even before a ring had found its way to my finger. I had four older siblings who were already parents themselves, and my mother and her six other siblings all had many children,

who were in turn having kids of their own. Our family tree was massive, boasting countless branches of nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, great cousins, grandparents, and distant great-grandparents. A large family dynamic was the only thing I knew, but at the same time, I was hesitant about adorning, the rule of mother, on my own roots had barely begun to stabilize. Kevin and I had been on and off throughout college, and were finally in a decent place, finally on the same page with our life goals. Neither of us were rushing toward parenthood, neither of us keen on losing our weekends to little league

soccer games or chaperoning sleepovers and birthday parties. Having been an only child, Kevin was understandably intimidated by the massive family tree and the expectation of contributing to its longevity in due time. More often than not, he would avoid my large family gatherings, citing other obligations, much to the concern of my parents. They insisted that once Kevin and I became parents, we would need to work together as a team and prioritize family over friends.

Rather than dampen my birthday spirit with another tense conversation about kids that would leave both my mother and myself drained, I elected to keep walking, savoring the tranquility of silence, something that was a rarity in big families. Although we had just visited my family in Colorado for Thanksgiving, my mother was already trying to guilt me into changing Christmas plans, which were to visit Kevin and his family in San Francisco. Perhaps due to having Kevin and no other siblings, his parents were excited to dote upon me as if I was already their daughter-in-law. They knew our hardships in history, and yet were supportive of our needs, which changed over the last five years.

His parents were easy to confide in and weren't pushing for grandchildren, nor did they dismiss my concerns in favor of placating their son. Whenever Kevin and I were to marry and settle down, I was hoping to do so near his side of the family and had a feeling Kevin shared the same sentiment. Without sending a reply to my mother, my phone was promptly slipped back in the pocket of my jacket as I returned my gaze to the balding trees that followed along the sidewalk.

Their brilliant bits of ruby and citrine confetti having already fallen and decayed within the last week as bitter winds and rain became a frequent visitor in our sleepy slice of Oregon. Back home in Colorado, I knew my parents and siblings were bracing themselves for another difficult December, which warmed my heart, comforted by the fact I could easily travel down to the sunny coast of California whenever my bones needed to thoroughly thaw. My youngest sister, Alice, who was finishing high school back home, was often begging to spend Christmas at Disneyland, despite family funds lacking, come the holidays.

Knowing my mother, we would all be wearing matching T-shirts and shuffling as a singular entity, unable to truly delight in the theme park's expanse of rides and shops. Maybe next year, if Alice's grades were good and my savings were agreeable, it could be a trip for the two of us. Having initially met Kevin down at San Diego State, we were both hoping to become homeowners back on the sun-soaked coast once we bulked up our savings in Oregon. Maybe once we were engaged and bought a house, we could then discuss trying to get pregnant, but for now, the invisible timeline would remain our secret. Kevin and I wanted to travel and build a proper nest together, both greedy and content to dedicate the remainder of our 20s to just

ourselves, regardless of my pestering parents and siblings. Despite my older siblings, making decent money, having children was an irrefutable and constant drain on one's make account, so if I could resist that time and financial commitment a little longer, I would be grateful. As would Kevin. As I took a right turn at the first corner and continued along the narrow sidewalk, my caramel eyes caught sight of a figure across the street. They were still unmoving. Even with the fog obstructing my view, I deduced that the figure was an adult, although considerably taller than myself, perhaps on a Friday morning stroll of their own. My feet slowed as I waved in their direction, but the figure remained frozen in place, unacknowledging my friendly gesture. To be proactive, I pulled out my phone to make a mental note of the time, 8.02 a.m., and continued walking.

picking up my pace. In the back of my head, I wondered if instead of a person, it was merely a decoration left over from Halloween last month, or perhaps an early Christmas lawn ornament. With a handful of plausible but somewhat flimsy explanations, I continued my walk, stuffing my hands back in my pockets,

my pleasant mood beginning to erode as I could feel an unsettling presence attaching themselves to me, tracking my movements. A lost deer, vulnerable in the damp, silvery suburban wildlife. My head twisted in all directions, capturing another glimpse of the figure, which was now matching my pace while keeping to the opposite side of the street. Panic quilled as I reminded myself that if I took the next right, I could loop back home in

just a few minutes. The danger was minimal and avoidable, I told myself, just keep moving and remain safe. vigilant. I inhaled and turned right again, rainboot skidding on slick concrete. With my gaze firmly fixated on the ground in front of me, I began to jog along the next street of cozy homes, occupants still slumbering or left vacant by school or work duties. A barbed wire slithered and wrapped itself around the inside of my chest as I hurried, a pocketed hand gripping my cell phone in the event I needed to call. someone. Spotting familiar chalk drawings of geometric shapes, by artist and neighbor six-year-old

Jen Watson, I knew I was near my final right turn, each frantic footstep carrying me closer to home, to safety. A sudden weight crashed against my stomach, forcing me to violently exhale before stumbling backwards, swaying to stay upright. My jean-clad legs mimicked those befitting a toddler, unstable and uncertain. A lengthy, shadowy figure stood in front of me and extended long, wispy arms that looked to be made of ash, threatening to fade into the wind.

Gentle threads of rich gray feathered the blurred outline of the creature and its limbs, as if its shape were birthed by a painter's non-committal brushstroke, its existence fading into unsettling nothingness. its thin fingers uncoiled to present me with a short silver blade. Akin to a modest pocket knife a father would gift their son on their 13th birthday to signify they were now a man. A man who could bleed and cause other similar harm should the situation become dire.

It was a symbol of survival. My heart stuttered, lungs heaving in haste to refill themselves with air. The blade's handle was polished, rid of fingerprints, dust, and all other blemishes. It was ordinary, yet dangerously compelling. Without question I grabbed the offering, my fingers passing through the creature's own hands like swimming through ice water. I brought the blade closer to inspect its sharpness, finding it surprisingly dry of the mist which clung to everything else.

Happy curse day, Leonie. A velvet voice breathed. My head tilted back but saw nothing but a scribbled abyss where a face was expected to be. Sharp chilled ridges scattered atop my clothed arms while the barbed wire buried deeper within my chest, further puncturing my soul as the temperature between us plummeted. My breath now appearing visible and shallow bursts.

Wideened eyes failed to conceal my confusion as the creature bent down, its stretched spine curving to close the gap between us. This is our first encounter, so please allow me to introduce myself. I am from the old country, a savior bound to the Dagenhot bloodline, your bloodline. Some may consider my presence a curse, but your longevity and withstanding fortune is built upon the contract crafted and upheld by our long-standing bond of blood. Confusion melted into blatant denial. What an absurd greeting. It was too rehearsed to be genuine. This is a joke, right? I scoffed. Kevin could have arranged a prank or perhaps one of my siblings

hired someone to dress up and spew supernatural nonsense. Either way, I was on the edge of feverish laughter. until the creature gestured to the pocket-knife in my hand, unbothered by my reaction. Come once every year, I retrieve blood from any relative in your collective on the day celebrating the gift of their life. A gift for a gift. The shadow continued, and given how many offerings your family has spawned, it's still unusual for us to have not met until the shadow.

This particular birthday, Leonie Dagenhardt. It's regretful I have yet to taste your life. Perhaps I'll make you a priority, should you state my thirst, as I find your other siblings to be rather, metallic and sour. I can taste their fear, unpleasant and wasteful. Perhaps the sunlight you're fond of chasing will yield flavorful results. And then perhaps your future children will share the same sweetness I crave. I doubt I'd be able to wait too long before visiting them, too.

Youth tastes the purest, before disappointment in suffering the passage of time, have tainted their veins. It's the perfect nectar. Imagine the most decadent of wines, buried just beneath your skin, hints of honey and vanilla. Your cousin Klaus, oh my, he had deliciously sweet blood, but my appetite was too much for him to weather. After four straight years of visiting him on the 7th of May,

I finally devoured his soul in its entirety, not a drop wasted. I drink until but a dried, withered husk remained. His blood was thick and warm, seeping into every orifice, allowing me not to just drink him, but also fully absorb his soul. It's bliss, my dear Leonie. I haven't been adequately satisfied since that summer evening. He thought I had forgotten, but I didn't wish to rush what would be our final engagement. encounter. That prolonged anticipation left me careless with my thirst, I admit. Even I am not immune to

the sins of greed, dear. Come the following year, I went on to visit one of your aunts. Despite her own grief tasting rotten, she was sufficient sustenance. The creature briefly lamented, subtle sorrow radiating from its static mass, tingees of electrical regret wafting against my pale cheeks. According to my mother, Klaus had died in a car crash, but now I know that lie was created to hide a sinister reality that was becoming all the more difficult to deny. I carefully inhaled, Take the blade and offer me what I seek. The more they explained, and hushed whispers, the heavier my heart sank as dread flooded my mind. A moment of unsettling clarity struck my spine, sending another series of shutters to wash over

my numbing body, as I realized why my mother was insistent upon me having children. And soon, the creature continued to loom above, banishing the dewdrops birthed by the fog to cling to something other than my shrouded form that was nearer. swallowed by my unrelenting shadow. Take the blade, my dear, they instructed with waning patience, and offer me what I am owed by your family. There was no other direction given as to where my cut was to be performed, so logically I sought to select someplace I could cover with bandages and hide its origin with a believable

lie. The first lie of many, I knew I would be reciting for the creature's threat of return visits. Using the tip of a knife, I peeled back the two layers of fabric, cold air caressing my exposed inner forearm. I cautiously exhaled through my teeth, biting back bile from my morning coffee, a searing gurgle threatening to spew up like a bitter geyser, pressing the tip of the blade into the side of my left forearm, I dug a shallow two-inch incision, excavating a glimmering pool of burgundy that began to trail following the downward curve of my upper arm. The creature let out a static cry of delight, its hazy form contorting to crowd my arm like a massive swarm of bees. The stinging pain was oddly mild, muddied by a firm sensation of suction.

My mind attempted to lure me into a safe memory of having my blood drawn last week at my doctor's request. The staff and their predictable procedures made me feel safe, well cared for. Closing my eyes, I willingly traveled back in time to when I had been chatting freely with one of the phobotomists about Christmas shopping. She was talking about gaming systems never being on sale, while dabbing my arm with an alcohol wipe. Given the size of my sprawling family, it was common for people to exchange gift cards or cash rather than try to coordinate with countless wish lists and the hope that duplicate items weren't given. I remember laughing with her about Black Friday deals being tame compared to a decade ago. I was safe and I was laughing.

Fog forgotten. From the lab, my mind then drifted to my siblings back home and inevitably wonderably. how often they had been visited by this bloodthirsty creature and why no one had tried to warn me of our family's curse until today. Isolation from the truth cut deeper than I realized.

Time slowed. My muscles relaxed. Tears trickled from behind my eyelids. Another trembling exhale. My body surrendered. After several minutes, I resurfaced from my days. as the creature reassembled itself, its lanky limbs returning to a humanistic shape of weightlessness.

Even without eyes, we remained captured by the other's gaze, locked in silent contemplation. Although I felt weak, my mind remained anchored in my new reality. Why? I uttered. The word had been rattling in my flooded mind for an eternity, but as soon as I had asked, The creature splintered into the air, a frazzled departure, vanishing like smoke from blown birthday candles.

Looking down, my arm had two curved dotted lines of puncture marks surrounding my offering to the creature. A faint layer of saliva remained, but I simply pushed my sleeves back over my arm and made my way home. Questions of the creature's origin and its reason for associating with our family. were all I could focus on, my feet operating in robotic fashion. My limbs ached, and I feared I wouldn't make it home before my weary body ceased function. The blood loss rendered my footing uneven and sluggish, prompting me to cling to the railing which led down to my front door.

As I stood in front of the door trying to regain a shred of strength, I sent my mother a reply, noting that I had only been gone for 15 minutes. Staring down at the lit screen, numb fingers tapped for a good minute of indecision before settling on a reply. Hey, Mom, I encountered someone interesting on my walk this morning.

A family friend? I'd love to call you now if you're free. Surely my vagueness would be enough to indicate the notable, inevitable, cursed encounter I was referring to, and that I was expecting answers that I had yet to receive regarding our family's association with an actual demon. Before I could seek refuge inside over a cup of tea, my phone rang and I picked up, appreciative of my mother's urgency for once.

Why didn't you try to tell me sooner? I asked, finding strength in my voice. Excuse me? Is this leany Dagenhardt? An unknown but cheery voice inquired. My anger mellowed. Yes? Date of birth?

November 30, 1989. Oh, happy birthday. Thanks. My impatience spiked. So, what is this in regards to? Oh, yes, I'm sorry. I'm calling from Pine Tree Laboratory. You had your blood work done last Tuesday for Dr. Shepard?

She explained. Sheets of paper shuffled in the background along with the outdated hum of an incoming fax. We have the results and we've sent them to your doctor's office, but wanted to be the first to congratulate you. You're pregnant. What a wonderful birthday present, dear! The rest of her unwanted advice about supplements and follow-up testing fell on deaf ears as my phone clattered to the ground before tumbling into a nearby rosebush.

Another wave of goosebumps tickled my arms as my nausea returned in vigor, sending me to my knees. Even through my layers, I could feel my self-inflicted wound begin to secrete again, a delectable red substance seeping through my sleeve, yet unable to penetrate my jacket. A harsh gust of wind snaked its way through the neighborhood, fog thinning as rays of sunlight stretched downward, futile in an attempt at offering comfort. Inhale and exhale. My, what a sweet gift I look forward to enjoying. Very soon. A chilling, smooth whisper of familiarity fluttered into my ear.

followed by a snap of static. With reluctance, I unwrapped my trembling arms from around my torso. The door opened revealing the love of my life, and now, father of my accursed child. Creepy Presents Lazarus Taxon, written by Jamie Ann and narrated by Megan McDuffie. Life is to be feared. It is only to be misunderstood. Now is the time to understand more so that we may fear less. This is a quote from the incredible Marie Curie. She is the reason that I too became a

scientist. My name is Dr. Susan Dawson. I study endangered species all over the world. I have been to the deepest depths of the ocean and swam with the archaic lanternfish. They've climbed vast mountains and studied the infamous wolverine. I've crawled upon my hands and knees to capture images of the breathtaking flannel moth caterpillar. There have been times in my life that I felt a hinge of discomfort in my exploration of these uncommon creatures. I've learned a few techniques over the years to help calm my nerves if situations turn from exciting to possibly dangerous. However, all the knowledge in the world could not have prepared me for my recent trip to Vietnam. One of the most exciting discoveries of our time is one of the Lazarus species.

The term I am speaking of is called the Lazarus taxon. The phrase is used to describe species that were once believed extinct and have suddenly turned up alive, which brings me to my subject matter, the Lausian rock rat. Fossils reveal that this species went extinct ten million years ago. In 2005, my team of explorers came across an odd-looking rodent near the region, of Laos. Naturally, I booked a flight and took my two best cameramen, Larry and Benjamin, halfway around the world. We set up camp in a small village near the Camoan region. Our goal was to spend several weeks photographing the area, and with some luck, perhaps we would get a glimpse of the Lausian rock rat.

The people were very friendly, even though we didn't speak their language fluently. Benjamin knew enough words to get by. That helped us greatly. After a few days getting to know the custom and securing our huts. We decided it was time to get to work. As we began packing our hiking bags, a frail old woman entered my hut and grabbed my hands firmly. Her foggy gray eyes looked into mine, and she started to speak Vietnamese quickly.

She repeated the words, Tick balang, tick balang, tick balang. They told her I did not understand what she was saying, but she persisted. She let my hand go and pulled her sleeve up her arm to reveal her wrist. There were four. deep slash marks that scarred the area. She pointed towards the trees beyond the huts and shook her head. She turned and left the hut as quickly as she came. I stood there speechless for a while,

and then Larry burst through the door, urging me to hurry up. I brushed off the words of the old lady and grabbed the canteens. I walked down to the river and filled them. Benjamin handed me my hiking bag, and the three of us made our way into the dense forest. This area is greatly overgrown, and it may take hours to get deep enough into the brush to set up the cameras. Several hours later, we found the perfect spot to set up our base camp. Most rodents are busiest after the sun has set. As Larry climbed nearby trees and hung the night vision cameras, Benjamin set up small traps in hopes of capturing our mysterious little friend. We would only hold him captive long enough to get some great pictures and make notes on him. I began collecting and testing different feces

from the ground. Unfortunately, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. just your run-of-the-mill rat droppings. On the second night at about 11 p.m., something ran up on Benjamin's trap, and it led out a small screech. I hurried to the small cage and found that it was no more than a little marsupial scurrying about. I released him and watched as he ran off into the bushes.

I made a note in my discovery book about the possum and stood looking up at the bright stars in the sky. Something large ran past my feet and startled me. I ran after the creature. It was quick. and agile, taking turns like a snake on water. My shirt got hung up on a branch, and I struggled to free it, but by the time my shirt gave way, the critter was out of sight.

Feeling disappointed that the little rodent escaped me, I realized I was quite turned around. I hollered Larry and Benjamin's names, and Larry's voice echoed loud enough for me to make my way back to our campsite. I immediately grabbed one of the cameras stationed at the tree line and started to review the images. I scanned through them quickly till I came to one that caught my attention.

There he was, his little black, beady eyes looking right at the lens. I couldn't believe it. I smiled at my team and told them the news. They ran over to me to see our discovery. We could see the dark grey in the rodent's body fur and his most distinctive feature was his furry squirrel-like tail.

This was indeed the lousian rock rat. Its very long whiskers were a particular evolutionary trait. They used them to navigate their way in the darkness. A remarkable discovery, for sure. I felt like a giddy schoolgirl excited about her first crush. The fact that this rodent lives again gives hope to the scientific community that there may be many more once extinct creatures waiting for our discovery. I started jotting down notes from the pictures on the camera.

It noted that he had tiny, thin paws and fast running legs. It was about the size of a house cat. my mind was racing with wonders of this creature's diet and mating habits. A loud, wailing noise from the distance broke my chain of thought. Larry came running towards my tent and told me I needed to come check the footage from one of the other cameras. I set my notepad and penned down and followed him to the camera set up. They pointed at the image on display and put his hand over his mouth in shop. I zoomed in closely to inspect the picture and took a step backwards immediately.

Like I stated earlier, I have been in many odd situations, some of them dangerous, but never have I felt scared like I did in this moment. The image before me revealed some creature I had never seen. It appeared to be walking on two legs, but it was very hunched over as if it was accustomed to being on four. Its skin was so pale that you could see its veins pulsing through it. It was bigger than an extremely tall man, but had a gruesome, horse-like face. Its eyes were a dark hue of yellow, and they were narrow like a feline has. There was little to no hair on its slender and disproportionate body. Its arms or as long as its legs. Its ears were pointed at the tip and very large.

The most startling feature of this unknown animal was its mouth. It revealed sharp, countless teeth. As I began zooming out, I noticed something striking. it had four slender pointed claws that were at the end of each arm. Larry and I looked back and forth at one another and then towards the image. I asked where Benjamin was, and he said he thought he went to take a leak a little while ago. I suggested we turn in for the night and we could talk about the image in the morning. Larry agreed and hurried off to find Benjamin.

I wanted to get into my tent so I could document what I was seeing on the camera. I wondered if the rodent was running from the hiss. as being? I kept thinking about the little old lady who barged into my hut at the village, and the word she kept repeating, Tikbalang. Was this thing the word she kept saying? I didn't know what to make of all this. After a few moments in my tent, I realized it was silent all around. I picked my head out and whispered to my teammates. I waited another few minutes, and still no response had followed. The forest was still. The wind wasn't even moving. through the trees anymore. I stepped out under the cold forest ground. It must have been after midnight

at this point. The moon was directly overhead. I saw a figure several feet away and I waved, thinking it was one of my crew. The outlined thing lowered itself behind some scrub and disappeared from sight. My hands began to shake and fear as I realized that was not my crew. I bent down and grab my flashlight from my bag and turned it on. Shining the light into the tree line, looking for my team, I noticed something shiny on the ground. I walked towards it and knelt to where it was. Only a small piece of it was sticking up from the dirt. I began digging around and pulled out an old faded dog tag attached to a long ball chain. It was too rusty to make out the name inscribed. I slipped the necklace into my pocket and started my search again. I walked a few feet and I heard

the crunching of leaves and sticks on the ground. Benjamin came running out of the darkness and smashed right into me. I grabbed him by his shoulders and asked him what was going on. He was not forming full sentences. He was shaking and mumbling words. I begged him to slow down and speak to me. He was finally able to say, it got Larry. We shouldn't be here. It gripped his hands tightly and forced him to look at me. I noticed his face was bleeding, but I could not. not see the source. I tried to calm him, but he would not settle. I let go of his hands and shine the light on his head. Four deep slash marks trailed from his hairline down to his chin, marks that looked like the old lady had across her wrist. I took the bandana off my neck and

pressed it to Benjamin's face. He would not hold still long enough for me to help him. In a panic, he pushed me away and ran off into the night. I hurried to my tent to put on my boots, and by the time I was ready to follow him, more sounds of crunching leaves and sticks surrounded the camp area. They froze and listened. I thought maybe it was Larry, but then I remembered Benjamin's words, it got Larry. The sound got closer and closer until it was right behind my tent. I could hear it sniffing the air, and I could see the outline through the thin tent material, which looked familiar. It was the lurking creature from the camera. Its heavy breathing smelled foul, like death itself. I held my nose and mouth closed. I watched as it went from

all forests to a more upright posture. It had a small nub of a tail on its backside. It appeared more menacing in person than in the photo. It turned its head towards me, and I thought this might be the end to my studies, to all the exploration, to my life. It took a step in my direction and opened its tripping mouth. It then pointed its snout upwards toward the sky and took off after what I assumed was Benjamin. It was gone before I had a chance to blink. I felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my chest. I exhaled deeply and quickly gathered my most important belongings. With my backpack and boots now on, a flashlight in one hand and compass in the other, I was ready to navigate my way back to the village, or at least far away from this area.

No matter how delicately I tried to step, my footsteps were echoing in this quiet night. I headed in the opposite direction of where Benjamin and the creature ran, searching for some higher ground, for safety. I heard more broken sticks coming near me, and I began to run faster. My arms and legs seemed to find every branch and bush sticking out in my path. I could feel the pain of the scratches through my clothes. In my blurred vision of the ground and thick brush in front of me, I missed a step and tripped over something. I hit the ground hard and grabbed my swollen aching ankle. The flashlight flew from my hand and landed a few feet in front of me.

I looked up and saw Larry's body lying there. I gasped at the sight of him. He lay motionless with gashes across his chest and stomach. His intestines and blood were splattered all around. I grabbed his lifeless hand and whispered, I'm sorry, my dear friend. With a limp in my step, I got up and began to hobble away from that spot. I heard distant screaming and recognized Benjamin's voice.

The pale hunter had caught its prey once more. I came to a large tree, and I began to climb it. Not caring if I fell, I got as far away from the ground as I could manage. I finally had a moment to grieve the loss of my companions. Tears streamed down my face and soaked my shirt. I wished I was back home. An hour or so later, exhaustion finally set in, and I fell asleep. I woke up to a bright sun-filled morning. The sound of bird chirping on a nearby branch made me forget my troubles and feel relief for a moment. From where I sat, the forest looked as peaceful as Eden must have been.

But the memory of last night came back to me, and I started scanning the forest floor for the tick-ballang. When there was no sight of the creature, I climbed down the tree and stretched. My swollen ankle had seen better days for sure. My compass was nowhere in sight, and I remember dropping it when I tripped. I could not go back to the base camp. I didn't want to. I didn't want to to be discovered by the carnivore from last night. I walked for hours and hours and watched the sun dance across the sky. Finally, I came to a clearing in a river. Thank God, the river could lead me back. The sun was starting to set by this time. I splashed some cold water on my face and took a moment to rest. I needed to get back to the village and find help. I watched the path of the stream flow,

and I started running beside it. Before I knew it, darkness had taken all the light out of the day. Lacturnal creatures scavenged around the forest floor. However, each sound made me more nervous than the last. I kept looking behind me, to my left, to my right, every which way possible, searching for the thing I did not ever want to see again. And then, there it was, a shadow being cast a few feet. in front of me. I stopped and took a breath in and held it. The shadow disappeared. I turned to run

the other way and I heard a fast crunching of leaves on the ground to follow. My ankle hurt so much, but I did not have time to think about the pain. I would have to power through or I would be tonight's dinner to this Lazarus abomination. Thinking as quickly as my thoughts would allow, I pulled the rusted dog tank from my pocket and drug it deeply across my palm. I bit down on my lip to distract myself as the blood streamed out. I rubbed it on the next few trees that I passed. Then I threw myself into the river. It was flowing in the opposite direction. I lowered my body under the freezing water and watched as the creature appeared from the woods. It sniffed at my bloody marks on the trees. It went to each tree and then seemed to get angry when the scent stopped.

It growled a fierce howl and then kept running. I floated down the stream, for what felt like hours. Feeling faint till I heard distant chatting and realized it was the people from the village. I crawled out of the water and I was greeted by the old woman from before. She was holding a large teaky torch. The warmth of the flame was better than sex.

Another man wrapped a large cloth around my shivering body. They all became silent and started to pray. They knew what happened. They tried to warn us. I thanked them and lived. I limped over to my hut. I collapsed on the ground. Footsteps approached near me and my eyes became wide. The hair stood up on my neck and I slowly turned to see what was coming towards me. Fear filled every bit of me once more till I noticed it was none other than the Lausian rock rat. He paused and looked up at me, then scurried back into the forest. make your own story for consideration. Please visit creepypod.com.

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