Creepy - Isolation

Episode Date: January 25, 2021

Don't panic...try to relax....***Content warning: drug references/use***Written by N.M. Brown***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/creepypod***Produced by Steve Blizin***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.

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Please check out our reward tiers at patreon.com slash creepypod. Now, this is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastas 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 Isolation

Written by N.M. Brown and produced by Steve Blizzin. I had been planning a trip to Colorado for you. years but wasn't finally able to go until recently. After a lot of research and saving, I had my room booked and my itinerary planned. Everything was all mapped out. I was determined to make it one of the best trips of my life. It was about an eight-hour drive from my current location. I thought it would be cathartic to drive in solitude and experience new things. Colorado had some recreational activities that weren't as widely accepted here.

A friend of mine had just moved from there and said that they had everything you could imagine. Cannabis popcorn, gummies, brownies, cakes, lollipops, truffles, basically anything and everything that I'd have wanted to put pot in. After having received clearance for the requested time off of work, I was Colorado-bound. My bag was all packed. I had no animals, children, a partner left behind to worry about. I can enjoy my trip without many thoughts of home. A true vacation.

Just me, the open-eye 70, and all the wonders that Colorado had to offer. The scenery was supposed to be unbelievably beautiful. I was fortunate enough to have been able to travel there while it was still snowfall season. I always had a deep fascination with snow in the mountains. Colorado's Copper Mountain was supposed to be one of the best to see. The plan was to drive out in the early morning and pull over as close as I could safely position my car. My plan was to sit there and soak in all her majestic beauty, even got myself a fancy camera. Thinking back, though, my phone probably would have done the job just as well.

I was most of the way through the drive, and I had to say the land here was absolutely breathtaking. I had seen so many natural wonders that I wouldn't have otherwise had I not taken the chance on that trip. For a while there was a slight anxiety in the back of my mind about the solitary venture. Now that I had completed the majority of the drive, I was thankful for my decision. The time alone with my thoughts in the open air on the I-70 was just what I needed. The windows were as far down as I could stand. The air here was freezing on a new level that my body and mind wasn't used to. The frigid winds bit at my face with a purge.

purpose. They felt the warmth of my blood, wanted to do battle, and I was just no match. After good vibrations finished the last note of its song, I reached my destination. The timing was perfect, almost as if the beach boys were foreshadowing an amazing experience. The worst and best part was that I really did have an amazing time. So many edibles were sampled, sights were seen, new strains. were bought for later exploration, and many, many deep mine trips were indulged in. After having visited most of the dispensaries I'd researched and conquering the restaurants

that had the best reviews, it was time to head home. I planned on visiting the goddess that was Copper Mountain along the way. I still had a huge take-home container from the breakfast place that stopped at. The Huvos Rancheros order were phenomenal. Hags over easy on top of a gorgeous pile of fried nacho chips and all the toppings I could want. Copper Mountain was just barely visible on the horizon. From what I could see of it, I was already in love. The scene behind it was a swirling collaboration of pinks and oranges as the sun prepared to make its ascent into the sky.

Impatience was getting the best to me. She was right there in my line of sight, but still so far away. In retrospect, it felt like I've been approaching the mountain for hours. I kept holding my thumb and forefinger up trying to gauge how much closer I was getting. Before much longer, the space was too wide to measure with my hand. Relief washed over me like a cool rain. Copper Mountain was enormous. A slight feeling of insignificance that started to set in.

I felt so very small in the grand scheme of things next to its gigantic natural wonder, in a way that I knew my mind couldn't truly fathom. It had been everything that I desired out of this trip. I wanted, no, needed to experience something bigger than myself. I tasted a bigger picture to remind me of what was really important. One day I'm a little boy, playing with trains and watching cartoons. Then, before I knew it, I was 42. So many things happened in between.

Over the years, though, the memories got pushed over the precipice of my recollection. Like one of those quarter machines at the arcade. Each coin, an old, dusty memory falling over the edge of my recollection. My fear was that if I didn't stop to reflect, it would all pass me by. I pulled over, turned the car off, and opened the music app up on my phone. this was going to be an experience to remember on my deathbed. After spacing out in wonder for close to an hour, there's time for some tunes. Following my plan like a personal Bible, I typed in the first song on my mountainside playlist.

Welcome to the Machine by Pink Floyd. My eyes closed as I rested the back of my head in the seat. The vibrations of the sound waves seem to sink with each beat of my heart. The lyrics rolled off my tongue like I'd written them myself. Before long, I found myself singing aloud. A rocking vibration of the car jolted me out of my trance. My eyes flew open. What I saw absolutely turned my blood colder than anything the Colorado winners had to offer.

Cushion of my once favorite song, warping the former peaceful beats my heart erratic with anxiety. Off to the side of the car, The mountain had disappeared into a blank of thick white nest, an alarming along of snow jettison towards the road faster than my mind could absorb or react to. I frantically fumbled with my keys, attempting to reverse my car in quick retreat. I was pretty sure the effects of the avalanche wouldn't reach me, but I wanted to be safe. The engine responded with a series of disheartening clicks.

The cold air and moisture must have had a negative effect. I'd only been sitting for a little over an hour. Maybe that's all it took. The siren at the end of the song reached its crescendo right as I felt a shock resonate throughout my car. I had slammed in this during the right as first notice that these were the devil drifted through the speaker on my phone. It was puzzling you is the nature of my game. Then there was nothing. No sound.

No light. Only the thick black of my unconscious mind. I was greeted by a heinous beeping sound as I came to. My phone was alerting me that the battery was about to die completely. I was sitting at an unhealthy 3% charge. My hand immediately flew to the throbbing pain in my left temple. Upon pulling my hand away for inspection, my fingers gleamed red with blood. I'd hit my head pretty hard.

I was distracted by this just long enough to temporarily escape the gravity of my situation. Darkness enveloped my every vantage point. Still reeling from my head injury, I took my keys and again attempted to restart the vehicle. I was met with the same result, each empty click of the engine, bringing me one step closer to madness. Out of everything that would have possibly bothered me at the time about my situation, The silence was the absolute worst. It was utterly and completely head-splitting, only the sound of my quickly increasing heart rate to assure me that I hadn't completely gone deaf.

My hands flew to the driver's door handle and pulled. I pulled until my fingertips were numb from the effort. Absolutely nothing happened. It felt like my car was pressurized. Trapped in ice. I knew there was no way out for me here. I'm sure I'm not the only one to travel on this road. Hopefully the county will come out and temporarily close the road in order to clear it,

assuring safe passage for the oncoming drivers. I have no idea how much time I've been trapped in my car at this point. My once taken for granted sensory perception totally alluding me as time either flew or crept by. I couldn't be sure what. The air in the car had steadily become colder, and before I knew it, my breath was visible to the eye, becoming more painful with each puff as my lungs struggled to acclimate to the cold. My mind fades in and out of consciousness. I knew I had to do something, anything, to stay awake.

My stomach screamed at me in need as nausea began to set in. Every churn at the stomach eating away the lining of my gut. My mind drifted back to the Huvos Rancheros. It had been in the car with me for God knows how long. However, it was certainly cold enough that it wasn't completely unreasonable to think it was still edible. I leaned back and grabbed the container. The squeak of the styrofoam like a spike to my eardrums in contrast to the total silence of my buried vessel. Opening the container emitted the smell that I couldn't and frankly didn't want to place.

Ignoring my better judgment, I ravenously shoveled the food into my mouth. The yolk breaking in a horrendous stench like the death of the very chicken that created it. Mentally pushing through the pungent, sulfur smell and taste, I continued chewing without breathing. My gag reflex convulsed in protest. Though I needed food and energy, my rancid breakfast provided no comfort. My stomach now angry with me for a completely different reason.

Like a flower desperately in need of water doused with gasoline. There's nothing to do but sit and wait in mental agony. I looked around the inside of my car and made up my mind right then. and there. This was not going to be the last thing that I saw in life. This snow had to have buried me pretty deep to get my car into this sensory deprivation chamber of hell. Honestly, without many options, I decided to break out a new strain that I brought with me for the trip home. I was used to indica's, and what I bought was a heavy setiva blend. I felt a huge anxiety attack coming on. So I packed a bowl upon meeting my flame to the glass.

The red hairs of the nugget danced in anticipation. I inhaled in an attempt to push my rising panic away. A few fleeting moments. It worked. I found myself caught up in the flowing upholstery on the ceiling. My worries were a place with a newfound confidence of an assured rescue. The snow couldn't be this thick forever. eventually it would then out enough for my car to be visible. After many hours, this starts to wear off.

And the dread I felt before assaults my senses tenfold. Isolation becoming a fear that I'd never consider before today. My trip was self-discovery and solitude warped. Attacking my spirit like a murderer crows. Vomit protruded through my chattering teeth. heath as my breakfast turned against me. It spewed out like every evil of the world. My esophagus powerless against it.

My stomach folded into an origami crane with cramps. My panic increased with every now dry heave. Surely someone had to find me here while I was still alive. My earthly body began succumbing to its knees. I wrenched an empty water bottle open just in time to catch a stray stream of urine. I got angry at myself for missing the bottle a few times, stray streaks soaking into the carpet and petals on the floorboards. I realized now that vanity should have been the least of my worries.

My mind was focusing on the smaller details to avoid the bigger picture that I had originally set out to find something miraculously terrible happened. I was enveloped in a comforting surge of warmth. It started at my toes, and slowly but steadily made its way up through my body. Before long, I was overwhelmed with heat. The urge to take my clothes off was almost undeniable. My mind quickly lost all rationality, at least 30 hours that I've been trapped in the car. Not that there was any way to keep track.

My car was dead, my phone was dead. The only thing with any semblance of life was me. And even that was debatable at this point. I was trying my absolute hardest to keep it together. But the closeness of my surroundings was getting to me. No longer able to deny the urges of my tested body, I removed my shoes. The nerve endings on my feet were ablaze with fire and desperately needed relief. My throat absolutely ached with thirst and my bladder was once again stretched to its limits.

two innocent birds with one stone. I had an idea to solve the problem. I took a discarded cup in my back seat and prepared for release. The relief of the pressure in my gut was intensely pleasurable. Putting my nature show viewing to the test and my pride aside, I raised the cup to my lips. I'm almost to the point of transfer when I'm suddenly repulsed. I pulled the cup away and let it fall to the floorboards.

Praying, I'm not at that point in desperation just yet. I could no longer feel my toes and my fingers were well past the point of mental cooperation. Again, I attempted to start the vehicle unsuccessfully. Suddenly, there's a change in the outside of my car. I actually thought I could just sound. The whirring of tires flies past the edge of my hearing. Every sound brought my heart to life one ventricle at a time. The road must have been opened up.

I leaned in closer to listen. I recognized the telltale were of a snowplow. I'm going to be okay. The sound faded as soon as it appeared. And my heart sank as resounding thuds assault in my car. I must have gotten pushed off the road during the avalanche. I literally couldn't think of anything to do but sit and hope the snow melted in enough soon for my car to be visible. No, couldn't be how this ended.

I needed to think. I had a typical idea. The zipper of my backpack was agonizingly loud against the deafness of my ice tomb, no matter how slowly I moved at. A random swirl of the hand around the inside of my bag brought me to my container. The label on it, Red Jedi Mind Fuck. This ought to be good. May the force be with me, I thought. My frigid fingers veiled me as I tried to roll a joint.

Bowl, it is. The more puffs I took, the more scenarios leading to my death faded from my mind. I needed to get it together to come up with a plan. If I was going to go down, I was going to go down swinging. The smoke burned as it filled my lungs. Before I knew it, I was hacking up a storm. Not very smooth for something so expensive. Once I started coughing, I found it impossible to stop.

I could feel a burning in my face as the loss of air temporarily separated me from my cognitive abilities. I achieved so hard I pissed a little. The warm liquid felt heavenly on my cold skin. My mouth was achingly dry by this point. My eyes did a quick mental search for the contents of the car when I remembered. There should be a bottle of water in my trunk. I folded myself in doing an unnatural state. I crawled into my backsie to access the trunk.

It was the most beautiful bottle of water that I'd ever seen in my life. My cracked lips and tongue yearned for a leaf. I downed the whole bottle way faster than I'd meant to. It hit the bottom of my stomach like hot grease and a cold pan of water. I hardly had time to panic over it before it came back up to greet me. My stomach emptied, having rejected the sudden intake of fluid. It was between heaves that I noticed something else about my situation. The air.

The air seemed to be becoming thicker and thicker inside of my car. My breathing became shallow or by the minute. I looked at the air vents and could have sworn I saw a luminescent mist coming through the vents. My eyes followed it as a dance peacefully in the front seat. I ran my fingers through it and found myself giving away to full-blown fit of giggles. Then it occurred to me that maybe this pearly mist was bad for me. I yank the collar of my shirt over my nose in a panic. My giggles quickly gave way to terrified sobs.

God knows how much of it had already inhaled. I thought maybe it was the Jedi mind fuck. But the color and texture was different from the haze of smoke that hot boxed the car. I jammed my eyes close. When I reopened them, the mist had disappeared, delirious and more out of breath than necessary. My mind struggled to come up with a solution. In a flash of hope, I grabbed my book bag and started rifling through. What I needed had to be there somewhere.

I never left home without it. My hand emerged with a solid metal mass of a grifling. grinder. I hoped to God it worked. All I needed to do was break the window and then burrow my way out of the snow. There had to have been eight inches, maybe a foot at the most if at one time I could hear traffic. I raised my arm back as far as I could. I smashed the grinder into my window. At first there was nothing. I pounded and pounded until my hand bled from impact. But then, Just up in the corner, the smallest of cracks appeared. Repositioning my angle, I concentrated on that crack for dear life.

After the third smashed, the window shattered, glass consumed my every inch. In the corners of my eyes, my mouth, my neck, I didn't care, though. I was about to be out of this hell hole. Then I could move somewhere that didn't have snow. Thoughts of tropical winters and warm sunsets filled my mind as I struggled. to safely brush the glass off myself. Besides several shallow cuts on my fingertips, I was pretty much unscathed. All I should have needed to do now was crawl through the snow.

I needed to hurry, too. It was becoming more and more difficult to get a clear breath of air. Unwanted black squiggly lines and fill up my vision, and it felt like everything was sideways. The car got smaller and smaller with every attempt to breathe. It was all too much. The smoke was too much. The stagnant air of living in my car for who knows how long was too much.

This smell of so much piss. It was all too much. I jammed my fist into the snow outside of my window and instantly shattered a knuckle. My fist burned with a white hot heat and I screamed until I could no longer breathe. Problem. There was no snow, only ice. Tears renewed in my eyes and cascaded. down my face, forming a puddle on my collar.

The once warm liquid of urine on my legs was now freezing cold. My hands flew randomly around the floorboards in the car, instantly causing further injuries to my already battered fingers. Not that I could feel it now. The socks I had discarded earlier were covered in bits of either glass or ice. At this point, it really didn't make much of a difference. Both were freezing cold and razor sharp, wrapping my hands. hands and my socks were protection. I began banging away with the grinder. There had to have

been away out of there. Maybe the layer of ice was thin and all I had to do was break away the first layer. My arms were numb. My muscles were relenting their cooperation. I just had to keep going long enough to make a hole to crawl out of. My head was incredibly fuzzy and I began to feel hot all over. It was a terrifyingly suffocating heat that invaded. and consumed my body with every labor breath. I almost cried with joy as I felt a temporary hint of air hit my face. The ice was a deep crimson color. I couldn't bear to look or think about the state of my hands.

I knew the looking would surely create a sense of panic that would use up the rest of my crucial oxygen. There was still the slightest wisp of air coming through, so I had to be getting close. I hacked away at the ice. My muscles renewed with the enthusiasm of hope, harder than ever before. I heard something hit the ground by my feet. With greatest trepidation, I leaned down to retrieve what had fallen, fearing the grinder had broken.

My screams took over the silence that I'd almost become used to at this point. After seeing that, I knew that my attempts at escape were over. Every scream dulled the already dark colors of my surroundings. My ears rang until it felt like they were bleeding. I couldn't breathe anymore. The air was robbed from my very existence. As I felt myself slip away, my eyes fluttered open and then closed again. I was in a blindingly bright room and it was killing my head.

It looked to be a hospital. My heart saddened a little when I saw that my room was empty, though I don't know why I should have expected anything different. Mainly, I was just happy to be out of my damn car. I still felt really hazy and out of it. There was a call button on my rail for the nurse, I assumed. I went to press it only to see that both my hands were heavily bandaged. A sickening sense of dread and recollection slowly started to invade my mind.

I rammed the button with my elbow. and a young nurse came rushing in. She told me to hold on for a moment so she could grab a doctor to speak with me. I nodded. An older doctor came in wearing a long white coat and a treadbare smile. He pulled up one of the seats next to my bed and sat down in it. Then began to explain. Apparently a driver had seen my antenna poking through the snow and called the police.

They pulled over and started a dig at the snow to free me from the car. That act of kindness saved my very life. The doctor said that if I'd been in there for half an hour longer, I would have died. The driver found me unconscious and frozen, broken off finger clutched in one of my hands. There were tears frozen on my cheeks. I tried returning to home after many weeks in the hospital, but the mental anguish was just too great. My new home is in the Chestnut Ridge Mental Facility. I like it here.

They gave me a special pair of earphones to block out all sounds. My doctor told me to write this all down as best as I can with the remaining fingers I have left. I lost three altogether, right along with half my left foot. My body still feels cold all the time. I go into an inconsolable panic during snowstorms, to the point where I must be medicated. I haven't spoken a word for ages now. I literally can't handle the volume on my own voice. Honestly, even if I could, I'd never tell them.

They haven't brought up or questioned me about the body in my trunk, and I'd like to keep it that way. For more information, including pictures and videos. of the stories told on this podcast, please visit creepypod.com. If you'd like to submit a story for consideration or recommend a story, please see our submission page at creepypod.com slash submissions. All stories told on this podcast are done so through creative comments, share-alike licensing, or with written consent from the authors, no portion of this podcast may be rebroadcast or, otherwise,

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