Creepy - Shadow Cove, Part 2 & Capturing A Moment

Episode Date: June 8, 2023

Shadow Cove, Part 2***Written by: No One of Consequence and Narrated by: Rissa Montanez***Capturing A Moment***Written by: Jamie Anne and Narrated by: JV Hampton-VanSant***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, much simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of biocations of biocations. Silence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised.

Creepy presents. Shadow Cove, Part 2. Written by known of consequence, and narrated by Rissa Montanaz. A horseshoe crab sits on the railing of my ship, Shadow Chaser, and lays out the details of a proposed deal. I still can't believe I'm actually having a conversation with what can only be a delusion from too much sun exposure.

Maybe I should just be grateful to not be chasing a giant penguin on nudie magazine day, like Adam Sandler. No, my scarred psyche has conjured up a talking horseshoe crab offering me a devil's deal. Maybe I should get some therapy, but this far from port, I just go with it. What else do I have to do today? The crab lays out the broad strokes.

I am free to return to the cove as often as I wish. I will be permitted to shrimp the waters without issue or interference from the various inhabitants of the cove. My nets will always fill with the largest, most delicious shrimp anyone will ever experience, no matter how often I fill my nets. On top of this, there will never be anything other than shrimp in my net. This part might not sound like a big deal, but it is. A lot of work has to be done when you unload the nets,

and sorting through the catch is very time-consuming. Eliminating this step will free me up so much that it'll cut down on my workload by at least half. That's the payoff. But I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop. In exchange for the quick and easy shrimping, I must never bring anyone to the cove with me for any reason at all, nor am I allowed to attempt to bring a different boat,

even a smaller one. Under no circumstances am I to stay in the cove overnight or swim in its waters. Only the shadow chaser will be able to make it through the narrow entrance, and as long as I abide the rules, I will never crash or damage my boat. This all sounds too good to be true, which only solidifies my assumption that this is indeed a delusion. I ask why the crab would make such a deal. It doesn't make much sense that a sea creature would make a deal with someone that's there to harvest its brethren for food.

The pandemic was only the beginning for this doomed century. Soon, war will break out, and things like food, medicine, and gasoline. will become scarce. Prices will inflate, and people will suffer. From there, humanity's future will grow bleaker until life as you know it is no more. I only wish to grant you success

and to save you from some of those hardships to come. I want to help you provide food to those that need it and stave off the hunger that will ravish your kind. All life on this planet is connected. and we are merely looking out for those above us on the food chain. Without your assistance in the population control, our own food sources will diminish, and our hardships will begin to reflect yours.

We only wish to further the cause, so I ask, will you embrace the madness? Such an appropriate question from a delusion. The crab speaks of things to come, but nothing gets said as a surprise. eyes. A quick glance at the world will show we're on a downward spiral. The economy is in the fucking toilet, and we're on the verge of a worldwide depression. I'm not at all surprised my

subconscious has come to this conclusion, but why the beautiful lie? Why does my subconscious want to give me false hopes of a prosperous agreement? Before now, I would talk to myself about what needed to be done, or what I most want in life, like money, food, alcohol, and less stress. Erica can be thrown in the mix now, but I haven't had time to talk to my inner voice about her yet. I guess all this time spent griping to myself has gotten boring for my mind, and I'm just making shit up now. Not giving any credence to the delusion, but deciding to play along, I agree. to the terms. It's not like it'll make a damn bit of difference. Delusion or not, my nets grow full in record time, and I mean that by Uncle Ryan's standards, not my pathetic ones. The crab directs me

where to drop the nets, which direction to move in while they're down, and when to bring them back up, and when I'm done for the day. I've hauled in and stowed a thousand pounds of the largest shrimp I've ever seen. Seriously, at what point do I start calling them lobsters? I don't think they're small enough to even be classified as jumbo. The crab is true to its word, and absolutely nothing but shrimp are in my nets. I underestimated how much time I've shaved off not having to sort through thousands of shrimp. Once I've gotten myself ready to lead the cove, I turned to thank the crab, but it's just gone. No trace of its presence exist.

So, I just shrug my shoulders and leave. Even despite my full hall and the easiest workday I've ever had on this old boat, I still believe it was a delusion. I mean, come on, what sane person would think that really happened? Once I'm close to shore, I phone Nora about my impressive hall,

and she meets me at the docks. She can't believe what I've gotten, and immediately calls a crew to come get my shrimp. As they unload my hall, I hear a lot of comments about their size. No one has seen shrimp this big, so there's questions about where I caught them. For a split second,

I consider mentioning mysterious cove, but instead, I just say it's an old family secret. The check Nora hands me, is the largest I've ever seen. And then she makes me a promise. If I keep this up, the checks can only get bigger. Fancy restaurants will pay a king's ransom for shrimp like this, and charge patrons even more.

Not exactly bringing food to those that need it, but the zeros on that check have me not caring. Erica shows up as the crew finishes taking my haul, All, getting a fair few glances from the men. When we're alone, I tell her my exciting news and promise her a night on the town, my treat. After paying my back-due dock fees, outstanding gas bills, and restocking my galley with actual food, I'm left with just enough money to get me through the month. Granted, that's as long as I don't have any unexpected expenses and go easy on the alcohol.

All that for a day's work, my bank account is going to get fat if the horseshoe crab wasn't a delusion. And the deal I made is for real. Shit, I could set myself up for life in about six months if I go out as often as I can and not spend too much time docked at the marina. The only downside is, it'll prevent me from seeing more of my new girlfriend. Erica joins me in the shower to help clean up for our date. She gets all those hard-to-reach places, and I swear this girl's hands are magical. Before dinner, I decide to go to a mattress store nearby and get her to help me pick out the most comfortable one they have.

My hope is that getting her input will incentivize her to stay with me into the morning. Not only next time, but many more times to come. The salesman assures me it will be deletive. the day I get back from my next trip to Shadow Cove, I then take Erica to the nicest restaurant in town. She has the swordfish, and I have a big, juicy, T-bone steak. For someone that lives on and works on a shrimping boat, I'm not much for seafood.

Erica jokes that it might be a good thing, and that it wouldn't do me any good to eat away my livelihood. Even though she eats seafood, Erica doesn't really care for shrimp. Not ever since her sister Emma compared them to bugs. And she didn't just talk about it. Apparently, she compared pictures between different insects to shrimp, and the resemblance was striking enough that she couldn't enjoy them ever again. After dinner, we lay in my hammock, full on food and a little drunk from the two-by-law.

bottles of wine. She asks about my trip to Shadow Cove, and I tell her everything, well, everything save for the horseshoe crab and the deal. I was told I couldn't bring anyone with me, but not one word about keeping it a secret. Of course, I'm not going to advertise it to everyone on the docks. Even if the deal was all in my head and my catch was one with hard work, It would be pretty fucking stupid to share my goldmine with others. Erica promises not to say a word, but surprisingly, doesn't ask if she can go with me. I described in detail the astounding beauty of the cove, expecting her to want to see it for herself. But the request never comes.

Instead, we fall asleep in each other's arms. I could have downplayed it a little, not make it sound so enticing so I wouldn't risk her asking to come. But I find myself not being able to lie to her. I think I'm falling in love with Erica. And that's pretty damn quick for me. Things go on like that for a few months.

Every other day I go out to Shadow Cove, listen to the horseshoe crab as it directs me around the waters, return to the dock and sell Nora my hall. Each time, the checks are a little bigger because my shrimp is a big hit. Nora has fancy restaurants making large orders through the warehouse, specifically for my shrimp. I'm pushing myself really hard, sometimes only being at the Marine along enough to unload my hall, refuel, and restock the galley. Of course, I only do this on days I know I won't be seeing. Erica because she's on a business trip. There was one trip to the cove where I arrived later than expected and barely made it back out before sunset. I only got about half my hall, and as I pulled in

my nets, I saw a shadowy mass circling my catch. It didn't come close enough to the surface for me to get a good look, but the basic shape I did get was more than enough to freak me out. It looked like it was the general shape of a person, but with a large, massive head, or possibly a lot of hair. The outstretched appendages that look like abnormally long arms and tree-trunk legs moved in exaggerated swimming motions, almost like they were mimicking a human. That night, I weighed anchor very close to the cove's entrance, and it'll be the only time I ever do this. The noises I heard, coming out over the trees, were horrendous, and were on the verge of giving me nightmares.

But then something really weird happened. Music began to play in my head. A light melody I've come to associate with old sea shanties, but far more beautiful. I ended up dreaming of a peaceful life underwater, with all kinds of unseen creatures that lived like Mr. Rogers was in charge of their H.O. away. I almost didn't go back in to fill the other half of my hall. The wonderful dream wasn't able to completely cast out the horrible noises I heard. However, the horseshoe crab appeared on the deck

and assured me everything was fine. My late exit had gotten the attention of a deep water inhabitant that only surfaces at night, and doesn't like unannounced guests. Having to finish catching half my Hall gave me a late start back at the marina. By the time I docked the next day, it was late afternoon, early evening. Normally, I get in early morning, and Nora's people are out there for a few hours. I called her to arrange the pickup for the next day, but she said she'd send a crew out immediately. Nora met me, and handed me the biggest check yet, telling me she couldn't keep my shrimp in stock for more than a few hours. As the workers were unloading, she tried to convince me to get a bigger boat so I can haul in more at a time.

I can honestly say I wasn't even a little tempted, partly because this was Uncle Ryan's boat, and therefore holds tremendous sentimental value. The big reason is because it would violate the deal, and I'd be back to having to catch shrimp the hard way. Something else stands out to me about that particular trip. Aside from it being one of those times, I wasn't going to see Erica. The laborers that were always around the docks, they were calling it quits for the day. As they walked by, I couldn't help but notice their complexion looked like it was changing. Like all of us fishermen, we got too much sun.

But men have a tendency to not use sunscreen as adamantly as I do. Their tan complexion that borders on burnt Was looking a little gray Hell, the crew Nora brought in Were in the same boat And I asked one of the guys if he was feeling all right His face bear a displeased look that comes from having a hard life But I saw a brightness that wasn't ever there before

Not just in him, but the whole crew And the dock laborers too These people were looking a bit on the gray side, but they were happy, and the guy said he felt fine. That was two months ago. I've made enough money that thanks to Nora bugging me to get a bigger boat, I have the storage compartments on Shadow Chaser redone. Using different materials and newer technologies, I increase my storage capacity by 500 pounds. Of course, I only do this after asking the horseshoe crab if the modifications were copacetic with our deal, which they are. That, and it gets Nora off my back. Unless she's on a business

trip, Erica always seems to know when I return without me calling. Like the most beautiful magic trick ever to exist. She just shows up at the right time. One day, she's She appears on the docks in a stunning burgundy pantsuit, and something dawns on me. She knows nearly everything about me, but I know so little about her. Hell, I don't even know what she does for a living, or why she has so many business trips. Over dinner, I ask this very question, and she laughs when she realizes we never cover the most basic topic. Erica is a recruiter for the Eldridge Conglomerate, a company with a wide array of interests and business classifications. Her particular role is to visit various businesses with promising futures and offer them a place within the company.

Basically, she gives people a leg up in succeeding in whatever business they're already in, but ties them to the conglomerate. thus expanding their business diversity. Sure, they have to kick back to the conglomerate, but what they give up still leaves them with far more than they would have gotten on their own. Her sales pitch always involves the phrase, win-win. Honestly, it sounds a lot like my deal with the horseshoe crab,

but I obviously don't say this. Over the last four months, I've indeed fallen in love with her. But this is the one secret I can't share. Avoiding that topic completely, I asked her what she had been doing down on the docks the night we first met. At the time, she was trying to recruit a tuna fisherman with three boats in his company. But negotiations were dragging on.

She was out for a walk, trying to keep from ripping the fucking fisherman's head off when she caught sight of me. Her business ended a few days after we spent the night together. All of her recruitment assignments in the area were complete. Erica's job takes her all over the world. But since that night, she keeps returning here just so she can see me. I have never been happier than I am these days. My hall brings in more than twice the money than any other shrimp boat gets,

with half the weight, and that's been causing some resentments. I'm repairing a torn net at the dock when a few guys off another shrimp boat approach me. They smell like old beer and bad liquor, and one look tells me they aren't here for a social visit. Before I can grab the closest blunt object in order to defend myself, five beefy guys appear on the dock. I've seen them around all the time, but I don't have a clue what their names are. Just typical dock laborers from the area.

And all of them have that oddly gray complexion, which only seems to be spreading. When I walk around doing whatever task I'm in the middle of, they actually tip their hat to me as we pass by each other. I figured it was because I'm a woman on my own. But it's more than that. They are big fans of my shrimp, and like everyone else that's eaten them, they can't get enough. Now, here they are, ready to beat the ever-living shit out of men they had no problem with before.

At least, not that I was aware of. The fight is quick, but quite brutal. The angry men go down quickly, but my rescuers don't let up when they're on the ground. with a surprising amount of venom. They warn these men that if they ever look at me with anything other than respect again, their bodies will never be found. Yes, I'm grateful for the rescue, but shocked at the level of loyalty these virtual strangers have for me.

They wait around a few hours and escort me to the bar just off the docks. I'm meeting Erica there for a night of beer and bar food. As I walk with them, I noticed something fairly odd. Not only is their coloring going gray, but the visible texture of their skin looks to be changing as well. This almost looks like the texture of something scaly, like a lizard or fish.

Once again, I find myself asking the gray skins if they feel all right, and each one answers that they've never felt better. One of the men has a beard, and normally he keeps it well-groomed and relatively straight. Now it looks unruly and clumping together like dreadlocks, but in an oddly wavy pattern. If I didn't know any better, I think it was trying to look like tentacles.

Once that thought pops into my head, I look at their hair poking out from under their baseball hats. And even there, it's starting to look like wavy, dreadlocks. Erica joins me at our table, and I ask if she's noticed these differences. Of course I have, sweetie. They've all been eating your shrimp.

This was so not the response I expected to get. I've got the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I ask for an explanation. They are in the beginning stages of their evolution. It doesn't look like much now. But wait another few months, and they'll really begin to fill out. What the hell? Beginning stage of evolution? I press Erika for more information, needing to know exactly what I've gotten myself into.

I was informed you had a close call with them a few months ago. Doesn't our master make such beautiful music? The creature I saw circling my boat when I stayed in the cove too late. That thing made the music I heard. Several years ago, my sister and I found an old defunct government facility from World War II. In the depths of the underground lab, we found him in a watery prison, abandoned after so many failed experiments, and the end of the war. Seventy years of isolation hadn't killed him, only weakened him. He sang to me and promised, if I let him out,

We would change the world. Together, we have been taking steps to make this failing existence into something better, more worthwhile. These people are only the beginning of the new world that you, I, and the master, are creating. This is the start of the peace we will bring to the world. New world? These people are turning into monsters of old sea tales. I've done this to them.

The price I unknowingly paid for my success. I want to be outraged, to freak out for being used like this. Erica tells me it took a long time to set up the distribution deals that have led to my success and the expanding reach of my shrimp. Everything that's happened to me since I inherited Uncle Ryan's boat has been part of the master's design. What's it all for? What is he building towards? Erica says world peace. But how do you get that by turning people into monsters? As soon as the question pops into my head, I know the answer. The dream I had after hearing the music, those unknown creatures I saw living in an underwater

paradise. Our world is currently on a downward spiral, and things are only getting harder for people. Sure, I've got a fat bank account, but gas prices are on the rise. That's just the first step in the hardships I was warned were coming. If I keep on the path we're on, I'll have a front row seat to a brighter future with this gorgeous woman by my side. Will I join? I do it happily. I've never been happier, and our love has only gotten stronger. The alternative is struggling to make ends meet, and suffering at the hands of corporate douchebags that don't give a fuck about common people. At least Erica is trying to make something that will benefit everyone, and I'm right by her side.

Who wouldn't embrace the madness? Creepy presents. Capturing a Moment. Written by Jamie Ann and narrated by J.V. Hempton Van Sant. I dropped the last box on the floor and wiped the sweat from my face. Unpacking was always the most tedious part of moving. I looked around my home and breathed in the calmness of. the air. New place, new town, new job, new me. I get to start over. How many people can say that?

After years in a loveless marriage to a selfish cheating sociopath, I got out. I was finally free. I put my tennis shoes on and decided I wanted to explore my new neighborhood. A city girl in the countryside, we'll take some getting used to. I made my way down the busy sidewalk. Kids rushed past on bikes and a dog owner was chasing his runaway pooch. I noticed a path that led into a large forest. It was as if it was calling to me. The tall trees held their long branches out to welcome me.

The leaves crunched beneath my feet. as I made my way deeper into the serene woodland. When I stopped walking, there was complete silence all around. I decided this would be my place of meditation. I bent down and scattered the leaves and branches on the forest floor. As I was clearing the area, something shiny caught my eye. I dug around the edges in the dirt and unearthed and ancient. camera. I inspected it closely and used my shirt to wipe it clean. I noticed the familiar

writing of the brand on the back, Kodak. This had to be one of the first models ever released. The black leather that wrapped around the metal frame was torn and stained from sunlight, dirt and rain damage. The lens still had a cap over it. I removed the cap and noticed the glass was in perfect condition. I thought I could clean it up a little more and put it on my bookshelf. It was as if the forest had this gift waiting for me, a welcoming treasure. I held the camera up towards the sunlight and looked through the viewfinder.

I attempted to click the stuck shutter button, and in the blink of an eye, the scenery changed. I was no longer looking at the trees that were before me a moment ago. I was now looking at a busy street with people rushing by. Stunned, I pulled the camera away from my face and noticed that I was standing at an unfamiliar street. I held the Kodak in my hand and realized everything is not what it should be. The streets were lined with gaslit lamps, and the buildings were much smaller. Concrete did not line the street. A mixture of gravel and muddy sludge were all that consisted of the roadway.

I pinched myself, and all I felt was the pain, not, an immersion from the day's state I was experiencing. I turned to look around and someone ran straight into me. I fell and hit the pavement hard. The camera skid across the walkway and pieces broke off and scattered all around. My wrists started to hurt and I realized I used it to break my fall. I held it firmly in my other hand and looked up to see a man's standing before me. I blinked my eyes several times in confusion, and the man reached out his

arm to help me up. He then bent down and started gathering the broken camera pieces and held his hand out to give them back to me. He apologized for running into me and asked if I was all right. I nodded my head, yes, and started to blush when I noticed how handsome the clumsy stranger was. He stood there for another moment, staring at me oddly. He was looking at me up and down in confusion, as if I was wearing a Halloween costume. I looked down at my clothes and then back at him. I was suddenly, very embarrassed. As I became aware, I was still in my unpacking clothes, dirty sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt.

This kind stranger was dressed to the nines. He was wearing a long, dark trench coat and a suit underneath. A fancy silver pocket watch chain hung from his pocket. He tipped his black felt hat at me and turned to walk away. Still not sure what was going on, I yelled after him and asked, Excuse me, sir, I think I am lost. Where am I? The man looked at me like I was a loon and replied,

You're on Phonnia Street, Miss. He turned again and was gone from my sight in seconds. I stood there frozen. Trying to recall what street the forest had been on, I didn't remember ever seeing a fournier street when I was on my walk earlier. Loud thunder broke my train of thoughts. I looked up at the clouds and rain began to fall quickly. I rushed towards a small building a few yards away

and took cover under the entrance canopy. The doorman looked at me with disgust and asked, I would be checking in. I stumbled through scattered thoughts and incomplete sentences before I finally shook my head, yes. He reluctantly opened the door, and I made my way inside. The front door clerk looked me up and down and asked what she could do for me. I asked if there is a place I could get a drink.

She pointed to the candlelit bar room behind me. I made my way over and sat down. Still holding the broken camera, I began to inspect it and the broken pieces. The lens was now cracked. I held it up and looked through the finder, hoping it would take me back to the forest, back to my life. A stupid thing to do, I know. But I must get back. This place is not right.

This alternate reality had me dazed and confused. Nothing happened when I clicked the shutter button. I let out a... Fuck! The bartender cleared his throat loudly and looked at me with a frown. I ordered a martini and he stared at me blankly. He handed me an ale in a large wooden mug. I don't even like beer, but what did I have to lose besides a hundred-plus years, of course?

I drank it and ignored the fact that it smelled and tasted like horse piss. Not that I had ever tried urine from an equine source, but I am sure they had to be similar. I downed the beverage and ordered another. With my liquid sedation in hand, I walked back to the front desk and requested a room for the night. The surly old innkeeper took me up a narrow set of stairs and unlocked my quarters. I walked in and she abruptly slammed the door behind me. I yelled, thank you, and heard her let out an irritated sigh as she headed down the stairs. Seems no one likes me in this time period.

I finished the ale and plopped down on the small rickety bed fully clothed, and prayed that when I woke up, I would be back home in my own bed, in my own century. Morning came as quickly as my ex-husband did, and just like my experience is with him, I was left unsatisfied. I sat up and rubbed my aching head. That beer did a number on me. I inspected my surroundings, same as last night. I walked up to a small bowl by a mirror

and splashed some cold water on my face. My long blonde hair was a mess, and I attempted to put it in a bun. The smell of something delicious, cooking downstairs tempted me into wanting to leave the room to find something to eat. I sat in a small corner and ate quickly. Others in the dining area looked at me like I was a vagabond that didn't belong there. Little did they know. They were right. I finished my food and made my way out onto the street to find out.

some answers. Everyone who walked past me gave me the same look that makes me feel self-conscious. I quickly headed down to some shops to find some clothing to wear. Luckily, I had enough cash to last me for the time being. A couple hundred during this time period is much more worth than it was back home in the year 2023. Clothing shopping is not as easy these days, though. Most of the clothing was tailored and made to fit each bodice specifically.

Luckily, my size zero body style and B cup-sized breasts were easy to fill in with any display item. I didn't care if it was loose in the waist or hips. It was merely a costume to get me by until I was back in my rightful home. I do have to admit, it was a little fun to look this way.

Although never again would you see this style of clothing on me. The shopkeeper helped me fashion my hair into a delicate braid with a white and green ribbon woven woven hat on top of my head. I left La Femme's clothing shop and spotted a little store that had something familiar in the window display. A camera. I ran across the street in an unladylike fashion and burst through the door. The bell chimed loudly and I almost tripped.

A man in his 70s came towards me and offered his hand for balance. I was so distracted I didn't even thank him. I asked about the camera in the window. A look of wonder exploded across his face, and he started to tell me the specifics of the camera. I learned that the Kodak camera was released that year. I asked what year, and with a puzzled face, he replied, 1888, of course.

He continued on about the camera's features. I asked him if anyone had reported issues with the new model, and he shook his head no. I told him that I have one, but I dropped it and it broke. He asked me to bring it in, and he would see what he could do. I told him that. I would be back soon. I left the shop and headed back towards my hotel. I walked along the paths of the shops and noticed a small open field with trees and a pond. I walked over to a large oak tree and sat down in its shade for a brief rest. My mind was racing with thoughts of being back home.

when I was interrupted by a shadow leaning over me. I looked up and saw that it is a man's shadow, the same one from last night that bumped into me. He asked if he could sit with me, and before I can answer, he sat down. He told me his name was Aaron, and he is a barber in town. He was on his lunch break, and this was his favorite spot to eat. We made small talk, and I avoided telling him I was from the future. I had enough men troubles.

I didn't need him thinking I should be committed to a psych ward just yet. I agreed to go to dinner with him later that evening. I went back to the hotel and started up the one. winding stairs to my room. I paused when I saw the door wide open. I cautiously headed in announcing myself. No one was there. I ran to the bedside table and opened the drawer. Empty. Oh no, the Kodak was gone. What the hell would I do now? I march back down the stairs to the innkeeper's desk and demanded she give me back the camera. She looked at me with surprise and assured me she hadn't been in my room. I stood there feeling hopeless. What if the camera was gone?

Was I stuck here forever? My life before was just beginning a new chapter, a great one. I turned away from the desk and walked over to the corner table that I ate at earlier that day. There was a newspaper on the table. The headline read, Gassly Murder in the East End. The article describes how another woman's body had been found in the alley off Osborne Street. I continue reading and then notice that the newsman's body, was called the London Times.

Tears begin to fall down my face as the reality hits me. I am in London, in the year 1888. I used the sleeve of my ridiculous dress to wipe my eyes and continued reading the paper. The article described the crime scene's gruesome nature. It made my stomach turn to knots. The recent murder victim was a working girl by the name of Catherine Ettoes. She was thought to be the fourth victim in a recent string of murders. Her throat was cut and her body was mutilated and left discarded on the street.

Chills ran down my spine as I read the last words of the article. I went back to my room to take a small nap. I was woken abruptly by the sound of knocking at my door. I rushed to my feet and asked who was there. A man's voice replied, It's Aaron. We ought to have dinner this evening. I took a quick look in the small mirror and adjusted my hair. I opened the door.

He looked even more handsome with his hat off. His dark black hair was brushed back, and his gorgeous blue eyes were mesmerizing. He cleared his throat and said, He must be a little early, and that he would wait downstairs for me to finish getting ready. I looked down at my dress and realized I was only wearing my underslip. Feeling like a complete idiot, I closed the door and rushed back to put my new dress back on.

I am not usually this much of a dits. We walked out of the hotel, and a small covered carriage and horse was waiting outside. Maybe I could get used to this life, I thought, as I climbed up the small step of the carriage. He felt around his coat and vest and then realized he forgot something. He told me he needed to run by his flat to pick up his billfold. As we traveled along the uneven and bumpy road, I tried to let the stress of what I had been experiencing slip away. Since I was stuck here, I might as well make the most of it.

We pulled up to a small string of homes, and he asked me if I would like to come in for a quick drink. I agreed, and we made our way in. A couple walking by said hello as they passed us, and for the first time I didn't feel like a complete outsider. We walked up to a small wooden door. The inside of his place was pleasant-looking for that of a bachelor. I can't help my grin at the small antique furnishings. I suppose they aren't antique to him. They are brand new, however, the smell is the same, new or old.

He motions for me to sit, and he makes us a drink. He hands me a delicate glass and then sits next to me. He leans close and whispered, I never thought it would be this easy. I giggle and ask what he meant. His reply was not what I was expecting. Getting you alone, away from all those prying eyes. I am suddenly aware of the predicament I've put myself in.

I attempt to stand up, and he grabs me and sits me back down. Don't make this difficult, he says with a devious look in his eyes. The shining bright blue in his eyes seemed to change to a hazier gray. His smirk is no longer charming. It is misleading and instills fear to my very core. I shift uncomfortably and tell him, him that I need to get back to my hotel, and he shakes his head no. Not thinking, just acting, I throw my drink in his face and jump to my feet.

I run towards the door and hear his footsteps close behind me. He grabs my braided hair and pulls me backwards to the floor. Reaching in his jacket, he pulls out a large knife. I back away from him as quick. as I can, and he just stands there watching me. I feel like a trap animal. I begin to cry and beg him to leave me alone. I tell him that I won't tell anyone. He smiles a devilish grin and replies, Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.

He lunges towards me and stabs me right in the chest. I attempt to grab the knife from my body, but I don't have the strength. He watches me like it's an experiment. I cough small bouts of blood and I feel the end drawing near. He pulls the knife from my chest, and I cover the open wound with my hands.

Crimson warm liquid soaks my clothes and spews onto the floor all around. I feel my eyes getting heavy, and my vision starts to blur. He bends down to look me in my eyes. and taunts me with the words. One day, men will look back and say I gave birth to the 20th century. I take one last breath, and the murderous menace swipes the stained knife across my throat.

Jack the Ripper wipes his blade clean and walks out of the room. including how to submit your own story for consideration. Please visit creepypod.com. You can also follow us at creepypod on social media and YouTube. All stories told on this podcast are done so through Creative Commons share-a-like licensing or with written consent from the authors. No portion of this podcast may be rebroadcast or otherwise distributed. without the express written consent

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