Creepy - Open House

Episode Date: August 22, 2022

Written by: Megan McDuffee***Narrated by: Megan McDuffee, Owen McCuen, Jimmy Ferrer***Bonus Episode: "My girlfriend and I were chased by a satanic cult in the Appalachia mountains of West Virginia" written by RandomGuySpeaks***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. Please join me in welcoming and thanking new patrons. Garbus Cusian, Dana, Slinger 1, Loranda Stuckman, Amel Adair, Jamie Aiken, Kelly Sinitas, and Michael. To see how you can support the podcast, anger rewarded with early commercial free access, weekly bonus episodes, immediate access to over 600 Patreon exclusive episodes, and more. Please check out our donation cheers at patreon.com slash creepy pod. And a quick shout out as well, the friend of the show Mitch Girott's, an award-winning comic book artist whose new DC comic Batman One Bad Day, The Riddler, just hit the shelves. Mitch was also the artist on the incredible Mr. Miracle and Strange Adventures books.

Why mention that? Well, if you were to get your own copy of Batman One Bad Day, The Riddler, you might just see some familiar faces within the panels, including members of the No Sleep podcast, Shelby from Scary You to Sleep, and yours truly. Mitch is an incredible supporter of the horror community and was so kind to include some of us in the artwork for the book. The story is written by the equally amazing and award-winning Tom King. If you have you even a passing interest in comics or the DC universe, I highly recommend checking it out for yourself. Now, this is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastors and urban legends in the world. 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 Open House Written and narrated by Megan McDuffie, with guest narration by Owen McKeown and Jimmy for rare. My name is Amy Keener. I'm 32 years old and a real estate agent. Was real estate my great passion in life? Not especially. But it's a job I can't, excuse me, could do in any city, and the pay was decent. Anyway, I'm writing this all down because, well, I have an unlimited

amount of time with nothing better to do. I doubt anyone will actually read this. But what the hell? That's more of a pun than you realize. I'm not sure technically when this all started, but in my mind, everything began to go downhill on the day of my first open house. I had arrived somewhat early to my first real open house viewing. I was busily arranging and rearranging the flyers for the property on the kitchen island and very much overthinking their placement. They grabbed the box of gourmet cookies.

I wanted to make a good impression with something other than the typical safeway fare and placed them on a shiny, large serving plate, but not before sampling one of the cookies myself. I almost forgot to sprinkle some business cards throughout the various rooms, but finished just in time for the first guests to arrive. Overall, it went slightly better than I had anticipated. I had psyched myself into memorizing all the minute details of the property

and preparing answers for all the potential questions that could arise. But I didn't get to field any oddball queries or even any challenging ones, really. save for one middle-aged man who simply didn't say more than three words. I wondered momentarily if he had ever had a family, or what in his past had led him to this point. But I digress. He isn't important in this story. I've just relived this seemingly nondescript moment in time in my head

for what feels like millennia. Anyway, everyone was vaguely interested with the flat politeness of window shopping. Once I was satisfied that there was. there would be no more guests for the day, I gathered up my stuff, snagged another cookie, and locked up. At this point, all my adrenaline had worn off, leaving me drained and wanting to kick my feet up with a slice of pizza, a cold beer, and a long hug from my boyfriend Cooper. Cooper greeted me with a big smile and that much-desired hug as soon as I entered our apartment. How'd it go, babe? Did all that preparation pay off with a huge sale?

Not quite, I replied. But it wasn't. was easier than I thought it would be. It was definitely a bigger deal in my head, I said with a laugh. Well, better to be over-prepared than under, right? Cooper offered with another winning smile. I just nodded and melodramatically fell into him with a giggle. We had a relaxing evening together, complete with PJs, pizza, and cold beers, just as I had needed. A few hours into our Netflix and chill, I realized with dismay that I had left the heat cranked up at the property earlier, It was a chilly morning, and I had wanted the guests, and myself, to be comfortable. In my haste to get home after a draining day, I must have totally forgotten to turn it back down.

Damn it. I begrudgingly peeled myself off the couch and started to trudge upstairs to put on some pants. Where are you going? Cooper called from the sofa. I left the heat running at the open house. I have to go back and reset it, I said. Dang. Well, look, please drive safely.

You're good to drive, right? He inquired. Yeah. Pizza is a pretty good booze sponge. He chuckled. Okay, if you're sure, I'll be right here waiting for you. Cooper replied, while making goofy, sexy poses with mock seriousness. I smiled.

You're ridiculous. The automatic lights popped on as I made my way up the driveway and punched the code into the hefty lockbox on the door. I made my way inside the property. headed straight for the antiquated thermostat. Man, a new high-tech one would have saved me a trip, as most of these things now have their own app and control functions access from anywhere. I'll just have to be more careful not to make more silly rookie mistakes. Hey, at least I didn't leave the stove on, right?

I made my way through the rest of the house, making sure everything was good to go and I didn't forget to do anything else. As I came through the kitchen on my way out, I happened to glance up at the tacky, a charmingly vintage 70s sunburst clock on the wall. It read 9.02 p.m. I was glad it wasn't too late, and I'd still have a fair amount of relaxation time left before bed. Suddenly, a kitchen light went out. Confused, I flipped the switch a few times. The bulb must have burnt out. Shoot, guess I needed to make a pit stop at the hardware store for a new bulb before the next open house the following weekend.

I could just barely see a glow around the staged kitchen furniture from the driveway lights as I cautiously walked towards the front door. With no sound or warning, a small figure popped into existence in front of me. My heart leapt into my throat as I jumped back with a small shriek. With this motion, I hit the wall and sat down hard, my blood pulsing in my ears. It was so dark that I questioned even seeing anything at all and timidly peered. into the gloom. There was definitely something there. The subtle light filtering in through the kitchen window barely illuminated a small form, about three feet tall. What little light there was reflected off extremely wide eyes, tiny pinprick pupils with seemingly no eyelids, a smile with far too many teeth

stretched from ear to ear. If there were ears, I couldn't tell, as this thing just stood there staring at me. I immediately thought of the Jeff the killer face that made its way around the creepy pasta-obsessed forums online. The utterly disturbing face in front of me was almost identical. Was I seeing things? What the hell was happening? This couldn't be real, right? As I sat with my heart thumping out of my chest, I breathed heavily with my head down, arms crossed over my head. Relax, Amy, I told myself, It's just the darkness playing tricks on your tired brain. As my breathing slowly wound down to an almost normal pace and I was about to lift my head,

two small, dark feet appeared next to me. This time I let out not a small shriek, but a genuine scream as I curled up into a defensive ball against the kitchen wall. At this exact moment, the lights came back on, coupled with the feeling of a heavy blanket being lifted from the room, trembling with my heartbeat still pounding in my ears, I painstakingly uncurled from the fetal position and looked around. The kitchen seemed untouched and was exactly as it was before the lights cut out. My eyes landed on the sunburst clock, whose minute ham promptly clicked to 903 p.m. In a string of unnerving events, that struck me as additionally unnerving. I must have had my head down trying to calm myself for at least several minutes.

So how was it that the clock was just now landing on 903 p.m.? What the hell just happened? With shaky legs, I used the wall to steady myself as I stood up. I gingerly stepped over to the light switch, took a deep breath, turned the lights off and bolted to the front door as fast as my legs would allow. I hastily checked that the door was locked with the key secured in the lockbox and nearly sprinted to my car. My blood was still pumping loudly as I got in my car,

sped away. By the time I got back home, my heartbeat had returned to normal, and I was convinced that I had hallucinated the entire thing. Stress isn't kind to the mind. I repeated to myself on the drive home. I'm not sure I ever really believed that, but I definitely needed to do something to self-soothe at that particular moment. Cooper sensed my distress as I came through the door. Jeez, are you okay? You look spooked. He said, I'm fine. I exhaled. Just thought I saw something.

But I'm exhausted, so Cooper walked over to me and scooped me up. Okay, let's get your butt back on this couch and relaxed. He turned on the TV and tucked a blanket around me with a kiss on the forehead. We watched some silly sitcom for about 15 minutes before I promptly fell asleep, safely wrapped in the cozy cocoon of Cooper's arm around me. The next morning was uneventful. After a round of eggs and toast, I grabbed my thermos of tea, business cards, folder of pamphlets, cookies, and headed out to the next property showing.

Upon arrival, I once again sat out preparing a nice display of treats and flyers on the entryway table. Thankfully, my anxiety was much less than it had been the previous day, and I felt like I had a handle on how this would go. I made my way around the house, making sure everything was in order, eventually ending up in the kitchen. except something was extraordinarily wrong. A vintage sunburst clock hung on the wall. The furniture was woefully familiar, and my heartbeat immediately began to rise. This couldn't be. There was no way this house had the exact same kitchen as yesterday.

I had been to this property before, and its kitchen had a sleek, modern design. In a panic, I raced outside to double and triple check. the house numbers. This was indeed a completely different house, yet as I ran back inside, the tacky 70s color scheme glared back at me. What the hell was going on? Suddenly, all light was sucked from the room, like a candle being snuffed out. The kitchen went stunningly dark as my eyes happened to catch 9.02 p.m. on that damn sunburst clock. A feeling of immense dread came over me in a wave of confusion. Just as suddenly, a small figure appeared from nothing in front of me, staring, smiling, unmoving. I shrieked as I was engulfed by the sensation of my own pounding

heartbeat. Those eyes, that unnatural grin, and the cacophonous pulse of my blood was all there was in that moment. And then, as abruptly as it came, it was gone. The kitchen returned to its chrome-accented state. The sunlight poured in through the windows, and the stove clock read 10.05 a.m. I wiped a patina of sweat off my forehead with my sleeve as I tried to slow my ragged breathing. What the fuck was happening to me? After the guests had trickled to a halt for the day, I locked up and sat in my car for a moment before reaching for my phone. I scrolled through my contacts until I found the number I was looking for. Hey, Kate?

It's Amy. How are you? It's been far too long. Kate and I were old buddies from college, and she remained one of my closest friends. friends. She also happened to be a big fan of the supernatural, so I figured it was probably time to discuss my alarming experiences. I had, of course, contemplated telling Cooper what was happening, but I didn't want to burden him with worry. He had just landed a new client and was already putting in extra hours, so I wanted to spare him the additional stress over my mental

well-being. Kate and I planned to meet up for drinks that evening. It would be a small relief to get this unnerving experience off my chest, and I was honestly curious to see which She thought about it. The drive home was a blur of processing and inner monologuing. I was just stressed, right? I tackled a few chores at home for a few hours, made myself some mac and cheese with a salad for dinner, and went upstairs to shower.

It had been quite a while since I had anywhere to remotely dress up for, so I was feeling chipper, despite my experience from earlier. The prospect of putting on a nice dress and grabbing drinks with Kate had definitely lightened my mood. I stepped out of the steaming bathroom and rummaged through my closet. My favorite little black dress, cliche, I know, would do nicely for tonight. I wriggled into the soft, stretchy fabric, and thought about how delicious that dirty gin martini would taste as I dried my hair and put on some tasteful makeup. Heading down the stairs, I texted Kate that I was leaving and grabbed my purse off the coffee table.

I also shot Cooper a quick text that I was going out to meet Kate in case he got home before me and wondered where I had gone. I stepped into the kitchen, noticing that the time on the tail swinging, eye-shifting cat clock was 9.02 p.m. Weird coincidence, I supposed. I was unfortunately wrong. The lights flickered once and went out, plunging the kitchen into darkness. I could just barely see the outline of the sunburst clock where the playful cat timepiece had been literally a second before. As my heartbeat began thudding in my chest and I thought, for fuck's sake not again there it was that impish figure defying all logic or reason grinning at me from a few feet away

i blinked and it blipped closer causing me to flinch backward and trip over the small stepstool behind me i fell clumsily against the stove panicking its tears well-lipped in my eyes this could not be happening it didn't make any sense i closed my eyes reasoning that if it was indeed just a stress, it would go away if I willed it. I desperately tried to ease my heavy breathing and shakily wiped the tears that rolled down my cheeks. This isn't real, this isn't real, I asserted to myself over and over. Eventually, I mustered up the nerve to open my eyes. Two tiny constricted pupils and sconesed in dinner plate-sized white globes stared at me from so close that I could have reached out my tongue and touched them. The enormous crescent moon smile full of too many disturbingly

human-like teeth leered at me from inches away. I screamed louder than I ever thought possible. Kate's face lit up with a genuine smile as she spotted me walking across the bar towards her. Her smile faltered for a second as she sensed my subdued distress. Amy, are you all right? It's so good to see you, Kate said as she stood up and gave me a bear hug. I'm okay, just frazzled. It's actually partially the reason I wanted to hang out tonight. I wanted your opinion on something.

And, yeah, it's really good to see you too, I replied with a small smile of my own. Kate just had a way of easing my troubles. After some catching up and a martini, which was indeed, Eat, delicious. I told Kate in detail about what I had been experiencing. She chewed absent-mindedly on her straw, pondering what I had just told her. You know I'm a sucker for demonology and ghosts, she offered. But honestly, Amy, this sounds like anxiety-induced hallucinations. I know how hard you were crunching for your first property showings and how you wanted to nail those open houses. Normally I'd jump to, oh, you've got a demon

problem, but stress seems more likely. A panic attack of sorts, especially since it's been manifesting as that first house's kitchen. You were super worried about that day. Wow, Kate, I come to you with a supernatural gold mine and you give me stress hallucinations? Who are you and what have you done with my superstitious horror movie obsessed friend? I offered with a chuckle. That's basically what I've been telling myself, too. It's the rational explanation. but I feel like I've got a handle on the biz, so why is my brain still manifesting apparitions? I don't know, Amy, Kate replied, her straw now mangled to a shredded lump. Perhaps it's cumulative. I know you were kind of on edge for months around your training, finding a job,

worried about impressing the real estate company, all of it. Burnout is a real thing. I bet you need a vacation. I sighed. You're probably right. I can be a bit high-strung when I start something new, and I can't remember the last time I had proper time off. I'll keep deep breathing and lay off caffeine. But gin is totally fine, Kate interjected with a smirk. I giggled, finishing my last pimento olive. Feeling a bit more relaxed than I had on several days, thanks to Kate.

I'm sure the martini had absolutely nothing to do with it. I strolled up the driveway, eager for Cooper to see me all dolled up, plopping my purse down in the entryway. I called out, Hey, babe, I'm back. Cooper responded with a loud... Hey, Amy, I'm upstairs. How was it? Did you have fun with Kate? Always, I shouted back as I rounded the corner to the living room. Suddenly, something didn't seem quite right. Cooper was clearly standing smack dab in the middle of the living room, but his voice had undeniably come from our bedroom on the second floor. He stood completely motionless, and I mean completely, more stationary than any human could ever hope to be.

I couldn't even see him breathing. Cooper? How did you get down the stairs instantly? I said, feeling more unsettled with every step I took. No response. Cooper? Are you... Okay?

Where are you, sexy? I said I'm upstairs. Came Cooper's voice from the second floor. What the hell? Did he take up ventriloquism as a hobby and become a pro when I wasn't looking? Something was definitely off, and I felt my skin start to prickle. I cautiously shuffled towards him. The way Cooper was standing, his back was to me, and I had a strong, panicky feeling that I might discover his face all contorted or something equal.

disturbing. All those horror films I had watched late at night came rushing back through my mind's eye, making my heart thud against my chest. I ever so slowly leaned sideways to look at Cooper's face, bracing myself for a horrific sight. All I could hear was my own uneven and quick breathing. Cooper looked normal. He was still as a marble statue, but other than looking frozen in time, nothing appeared to be wrong on the surface. Cooper? I reached out my hand timidly and felt his skin. He felt exactly the right temperature, and I could still feel a faint pulse on his neck.

What the heck are you doing down there, Amy? Come upstairs. I know you missed me. Kim Cooper's resonant voice, nearly leapt out of my skin at the sound cutting through the eerie silence, made even louder in my current state of alarm. With the steady thump, thump, thump of my heart in my ears, I realized something so unnaturally creepy that my breath became even more ragged and urgent.

Cooper's lips hadn't moved at all. Proventriloquist or not, all performers gave away some small movement when throwing their voice. Cooper remained completely and inhumanly frozen. In fact, he reminded me strongly of a store mannequin with a vacant hollow cast to his eyes, like he was a representation of a person but was merely a shell. I became seized with fear and began to tremble slightly. Suddenly, with an abrupt flicker, Cooper ceased to be. He was just gone, seemingly removed from existence

like someone took Photoshop's eraser tool to reality. I audibly gasped my voice wavering uncontrollably. Cooper? Cooper! Oh my God, what the flame fuck! Everything all right down there? Came Cooper's voice once again. Okay, was he also a freaking magician playing an elaborate trick on me?

Part of me wanted to run up the stairs and hug him tightly, telling him about every whacked out thing that had been happening. But somehow I listened to the rational tingles of fear running through my body and slowly and quietly made my way up to the bedroom. I'm not sure exactly what I expected. to find when I entered the room, but I think I expected to see something. There was nothing. No Cooper, no demons, no hidden prank camera crew, nothing. Our ordinary bedroom stared back at me. The clean laundry folded neatly on the bed. I didn't know how much more freakiness I could handle

and fell to my knees in a heap, sobbing softly. After a couple minutes of shaking and weeping on the carpet, I wiped my mascara-smudged eyes and looked around. I was no longer in my bedroom, but it appeared to be in the middle of a wide concrete aisle, infinitely tall metal storage racks towering over me, reaching up higher than I could see. I'm hallucinating. That martini was laced, ran through my head as I tried to rationalize what had just happened. Why the hell was I? It looked like some liminal space nightmare rendition of Costco. except the items lining the shelves were all identical metal filing boxes, each with a letter and number combo printed on the front in red ink. In what kind of warehouse could you not see the ceiling?

And how the fuck did I even get here? Have I been here for hours and just imagined coming home from the bar? Was I kidnapped? So many scenarios and possible explanations spun in my brain as I tried to make sense of my nonsensical surroundings. standing up on rubbery legs, I started walking in a random direction. Trying to look for an exit or a possible clue was better than just sitting there, right? I passed row upon row of identical metal boxes, as I made my way up and down countless aisles that stretched on into the hazy distance.

Nothing about this place felt terrestrial. The aisles were too impossibly high and were insanely long. akin to the ceiling I couldn't actually see the end of any one row and squeezed my way in between the metal shelving when I tired of walking down the same aisle for too long. By the end of what must have been the first hour, I noticed that the metal boxes lining the shelves, repeated the same letter combinations in great big sections, M MN, M O, and so on. It would stand to reason, though honestly nothing had made sense for weeks, that this was a elaborately huge alphabetical filing system. For whom or what I had no idea. Surely secret government warehouses actually had ceilings, and employees, for that matter. No sooner than this

thought had crossed my mind did I finally reach a hallway with a neon green sign saying, Scenario Development Department, with an arrow pointing to the right. I guess going that way was as good as any other. Perhaps I'd run into someone who could explain to me what was going on. At least I wouldn't have to wander the secret government, impossible Costco, or whatever it was, any longer. I was starting to feel my endurance and adrenaline seriously waning, and I was getting tired and frustrated. This was truly a nightmare. Was I literally freaking dreaming? Why didn't I already think of that?

Duh, wake up, Amy! I pinched myself as hard as I could, my nails puncturing the skin on the back of my hand with a soft popping noise. blood started to slowly drip down my fingers fuck that really hurt but i was unfortunately still here in this creepy-ass warehouse uh office building the hallway had started to widen with textured fiberboard partitions and empty offices lining either side this looked straight out of a zombie movie minimal fluorescent lighting a hushed quiet and that horrible abandoned feeling where the protagonist thinks there alone until creatures spill out from behind an overlooked door. Were the sensationalized backrooms real? And the countless stories, games, and found-footed short films providing a glimpse of the truth? Jostled from my frantic thoughts, I registered there were two voices approaching from down the hall.

I quickly ducked into an empty office, crouching underneath the cheap faux-wood-tuffed desk. My breathing approached an unhealthy tempo, and I tried to calm myself, hoping nobody could hear me. Despite wanting to find some semblance of civilization earlier, something about these voices put my frayed nerves on edge. The conversation floated towards me, stopping just shy of the office doorway. I could hear two distinct voices that sounded incredibly strange, like they had several discernible pitches in each word. Geez, maintenance on this new system has been a total bitch lately. I was not looking forward to this late ship because I'm always the one around, fixed problems when there's nobody else here. Dude, I feel you.

Didn't you say it even screwed up that tiner file he'd been working so hard on? Hard on. Oh, yes. My boyfriend Cooper model even totally glitched out so that the audio cues weren't suiting properly with the body. Total mess. I'm not even sure what happened. the entire scenario since the system is rebooting. Who knows if the project file is corrupted now or what?

So lame. I'm not a fan of the new system either. There are always so many kinks during the first few weeks. By the way, Joe, you're gonna love this. Where the keener file I was using some temporal distortions coupled with your ugly mug for even more shot value. It was working nicely. nicely, which is why I'm stressing over this malfunction and reboot. But yeah, I snuck you in this one.

That's great, Ralph. I appreciate it. Always thought my face should be used more often. Humans don't like my smile much. Hope it was scaring the pants off her. Her, right? Yep, Amy. Keenerfile. Cooper?

Amy? This could. possibly be a coincidence. The creepy voices were talking about me. What the fuck? I cautiously peeked around the desk corner, my curiosity getting the best of me. If anyone was nonchalantly talking about the recent trauma in my life, what assholes, I at least needed to see what they looked like. Hoping that the dark office hid the sliver of my face poking out from behind the desk, I could just make out two forms outside the doorway. One was extremely tall and rail thin,

with no face to speak of and spindly arms that reached almost to the floor. I shuddered. The other was, holy shit. That face, the face that had been tormenting me for the past few days, was now amiably chatting with, presumably, his co-worker, not five yards away. Shock, fear, and exhaustion hit me all at once as I tried to hold back tears. I silently slid back under the desk, my back leaning against the wooden panelling.

Across from my hiding spot on the wall, there was a calendar. Illuminated by the faint glow of a computer monitor's screensaver, my welled up eyes landed on a nondescript company logo, L-DM, Limbo Development and Management. It took me a few seconds, but with all the... the grace of a drunk linebacker, the pieces slammed together in my brain. Limbo. Oh, my God. I was in limbo.

While this explained several things, it also ignited an entirely new set of questions. Was I really dead? When did I die? Why would I end up in limbo? Why is limbo a generic office complex? Well, actually, that last one did make a sort of twisted sense. It wouldn't be the flashy, fabled pearly gates Or the fiery pit

Full of shrieking damned souls I tried to focus on one thing at a time And wrap my head around the when and how The fuckery started after my first open house When I went back to change the thermostat Things were starting to become fuzzy But I recalled the damn sunburst clock Right before that horrible entity

Joe, was it? Appeared in the kitchen No, that didn't seem right I tried to think back further. The clock. Something about the clock. I did show off the basement to potential buyers that morning. I had a hazy memory of opening the door off the kitchen to go down the basement steps,

darkness, and a rising feeling in my stomach, coupled with that kitchy sunburst clock on the wall. Shit! I must have fallen down the basement stairs, twisting ass over tea kettle looking up at the kitchen. Wow. What a stupid thing to do. I could hear it now. Ding, ding, Amy Keener versus Hardwood Stairs. Oh, Hardwood Stairs throws a mean uppercut and Amy is down.

I guess dumb accidents happen every day, but I was holding out for the ideal option, dying of old age in my sleep. I felt an enveloping numbness about everything that had happened. I was most likely dead, and I couldn't do a day. thing about it. My cheeks were crusty with dried salt as I zoned out, sitting slumped against a desk that probably shouldn't even exist. I guess I was probably doomed to repeat the same few days, or at least be accosted by that supernatural creature thing over and over for eternity. I tried to be a good person, but it still somehow ended up here. Maybe their new system came with a completely skewed grading system of people's morals.

The malfunction and reboot certainly began to explain Cooper freezing in place, his displaced voice, and me glitching into this weird building. I can't believe what I thought was my life, turned out to be buggy software in an alternate plane of existence. Well, that basically brings us up to the present moment. I waited until the two entities left and started to poke around on the computer in this office. I think it belongs to someone, something, named Betty. What the heck is with these basic names?

Figured demons, or whatever they were, had dramatic names like Azazel and Baphomet. It's probably different in limbo. The names definitely match the drab, cubicle-lined office space I'm in. Betty probably should have password-protected her computer, since here I am typing this manifesto of sorts and about to send it to anyone who could receive it. That said, I'm really... not sure how this will work. Perhaps I can get a message out before the complete system reboot finishes. I glitched here, so it's worth a shot. Please tell Cooper that I love him. If he's even a real

person, I'm not sure of anything anymore. His name is Cooper Anders, and he lives in San Francisco. Also, please, I beg of you, contact Kate McKinney. She's the only one I know who could possibly have any ideas on how to get me out of here. Weegee board, anyone? For your bonus episode, creepy presents. My girlfriend and I were chased by a satanic cult in the Appalachia Mountains of West Virginia. Written by Random Guy Speaks. This happened in the summer of 2017.

My girlfriend and I are from St. Catherine's, Ontario, Canada. We both attended university there and decided to take a road trip to, the United States to celebrate our graduation. Our destination was Miami, Florida. Our family owns a condo near the beach, so we had a free place to stay. We decided to drive and set a fly because we wanted to see a bit of the country on the way down and visit a few friends. Trip usually takes about 20, 24 hours by car non-stop, and we were a plan to make multiple stops.

The first part of the road trip was a wonderful experience. We went shopping in Buffalo, then made our way down to Pittsburgh, and managed to catch a Pirates game. However, once we hit West Virginia, things changed. It was nothing but endless wilderness and a few small towns sprinkled in between. We had plans to meet up with some friends for dinner in Charlotte, North Carolina, so we wanted to get through West Virginia ASAP. We only made stops when we absolutely had to. We ended up stopping for gas at a pretty remote spot. My girlfriend and I got out of the car. I started to. I started to do. started pumping gas and she went inside to use the washroom and pick up some snacks.

My tank was about half full when I heard a voice behind me, ask, Y'all lost? I looked behind me and saw a middle-aged white man with long, messy brown hair that reached down to his shoulders and an unkempt beard with dashes of gray and, well, looked to be dropped to dried up mucus. His clothes were torn up and dirty, and he smelled like a mixture of beer, sweat, pee, and feces. He was a little overweight, but pretty tall. I'm six foot, and he was about four inches taller in me.

The teeth he still had left were a yellowish brown. On his right cheek, just under his eye, it was a tattoo of some kind of pentagram. I'm pretty into YouTube videos about true crime and cult, so I was able to recognize what it was pretty quickly. He was standing very close to my face, to the point where the smell of his breath was making me dizzy, so I backed up.

No, sir, just passing through. I said nervously. Not too often we see tourists passing through these parts. He responded, where you had, as he said this, he moved even closer than he was before. I had my back up against my car and I couldn't move back any further.

I wanted to get away from this guy as quickly as possible, but the car was still filling up with gas and my girlfriend was still inside the gas station. I didn't want this dude to know where we were going, So I told him I was visiting family in Kentucky, and they were expecting us. After I said this, he cracked a weird half-smile, opening his mouth just wide enough for me to get a look at his teeth again. I'll never forget that face.

His bloodshot eyes were staring deep into my soul. He let out a weird and sinister laugh. How lovely. I'll see you kids around. Then he walked away. I was very relieved that he walked away, but also terrified by his last remarks. I didn't even see him when we pulled up to the gas station.

So how did he know I wasn't alone? I figured it must have been watching my girlfriend and I when we arrived. The car was finally filled up, and I saw my girlfriend walking toward the car with bags full of snacks for the road. I noticed a weird guy who was still at the gas station. He was a few pumps away from us leaning up against an old red pickup truck. But to my utter discomfort,

He wasn't alone. There were two other men and one woman with him, making a group of four in total. The two men were just as big as he was, but they had shaved heads. One of them was wearing a dirty white tank top and the other had no shirt on at all. The woman was shorter, about five-five. She was very skinny with heavy bags under her eyes and long blonde hair. They all look like they've been living in the woods for the past ten years. They were staring and pointing at us, talking amongst themselves.

As soon as my girlfriend got to the car, I originally told her to get in. I'm usually a pretty calm guy, so when my girlfriend noticed I was kind of freaking out, she knew something was up. We quickly entered the car, I locked the doors, and I began hauling ass out of the gas station. As we pulled around their red truck to the exit, I noticed there was another pentagram painted on the hood. I also noticed the skull of the car. a gold or ram on their windshield.

The four began getting into their truck as they saw us leaving. I knew they were going to follow us as soon as we left. I explained the situation to my girlfriend as we were speeding away from the gas station. We were zooming down the road and I looked in my rearview mirror. As I expected, the red truck was right behind us. I sped up even more and they did too. I made a left, they did too. I made a full U-turn and they did as well.

well. My girlfriend managed to get reception and dialed 911. She gave the operator a location and they gave us directions to the nearest police station. The operator also asked for the license plate, but the truck didn't have any. Once we were off the phone with them, my girlfriend snuck her cell phone outside the window and started pointing to it, letting the creeps know we called the police. They finally got the message and stopped following us. We arrived at the police station and filed a report. We gave them the description of the truck and suspects. The investigator said they'd give us a call if they had any more information. We were extremely shaken, but also relieved. All we wanted to do at that point was get the

hell out of West Virginia. We thought we'd shaken the group for good, but, unfortunately, we were wrong. We decided to drive through the night to cover as much ground as possible. The area of Appalachia we were in had no streetlights, and I could only see what my headlights allowed me to see. Everything was fine until I noticed two headlights in my rearview mirror. At first, I didn't think anything of it, but I kept an eye on them. The headlights got closer and closer until they were tailgating us. To my complete shock and horror, it was the same red truck from the gas station. These people had somehow found us again and were right behind us. It's them, I yelled.

My girlfriend began to freak out and dialed 911. I floored the gas pedal, not even known it was ten meters in front of me. All we cared about was escaping. We got a mile up the road until my girlfriend yelled, Watch out! There were three dead cows blocking the narrow road. I slammed down the brakes. The red trucks right behind us and we couldn't go forward.

We knew we fell into a trap. All of a sudden, a naked man wearing a goat mask, darted out from the woods and began hitting our car with what looked like a large axe. The naked man got on the hood of our car and started making sheep noises. My girlfriend was still on the phone with 911, but all she could do was scream. People behind us got out of the red truck and began walking toward our car. Two of them had rifles and one had a large machete. I knew what I had to do.

I put the car in reverse in Florida. The naked man fell off our car. We smashed into the truck and I managed to knock it into the ditch. After the truck was out of the way, I pulled the fastest you turn of my life, and we got out of there. People were yelling all kinds of obscenities at us as we drove away. I drove as fast as I could away from these people until we finally arrived in a town and filed another police report. My girlfriend and I weren't injured, thankfully, but we were extremely traumatized. The car was still drivable after that, so we were able to get the fuck out of West Virginia the next morning.

This entire experience made my girlfriend and I scared to do anything. more road trips. I still call the local police department in West Virginia once in a while to see if they have any leads on these people. So far, they haven't found anything. The fact that these people were able to find us after we went to the police station and drove far away still scares and baffles me to this day. Who knows what kind of sick and twisted things this cult had planned if they managed to catch us. Stay safe out there, everyone. including how to submit your own story for consideration. Please visit creepypod.com.

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