Creepy - The Cave

Episode Date: August 12, 2024

Alone in the dark...or are you?***Written by: Archfeared/Ethan I. ***Story link: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Cave***https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/***Bonus episode: ""And Well, I can't explain what happened to my face late last night" Written by: J.R. Hamantaschen and Narrated by: JV Hampton-VanSant***Support the show at patreon.com/creepypod***Sound design by: Pacific Obadiah***Title music by: Alex Aldea 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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These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Creepy Presents The Cave Written by Archfeard, Ethan I. One. There were originally nine of us scheduled for the Spillenching expedition, but Murphy's Law dictated the two.

Two of the group had to pull out due to various issues. It was a disappointment having fewer members to share in the experience, but then again there were benefits, less logistical problems, more space, and so on. I personally wasn't that affected by it. While most of us were close friends, I hadn't known those too well. Our rendezvous was the cave entrance at the crack of dawn. I was the first one there, as usual. Those who knew me often remarked my attention to punctuality.

Slowly the rest of the group arrived, parking their cars and unloading the equipment that we'd organized between us. As the expedition leader, I had the emergency provisions on me, first aid kit, flare gun, GPS locator. It seemed quite odd that a flare gun would be taken into an underground location, but I'd rather have it and not need it, then need it and not have it. We assembled at the cave entrance. There was Jason, Alex, Karen, Samantha, Vincent, Ashley, and, of course, myself.

Alex and I were experienced spill-unkers, while the rest had varying skill levels, moderate, Karen, Vincent, Samantha, poor, Jason, and a first-timer, Ashley. Normally it was against my instincts to take a first-timer into an unexplored cave in such a a large group. But he'd promised to obey every command I gave him and had agreed to carry the most cumbersome equipment on the safe parts of the track. The cave loomed in front of us. It was typically dark and rather foreboding.

Not for the first time, I wondered why it was, according to every available record of local geologic sites, unexplored. Perhaps it was isolated location, or the fact that. that until recently there had been no way for vehicles to access it through the surrounding forest. Are you sure it's all right? Ashley nervously asked, shifting from foot to foot. His earlier bravado had deserted him. Yes?

You can't change your mind once we're in. So decide now, I said flatly, turning around without waiting for an answer. He'd make his own mind up without any further input from me. The rest of the group followed me. After a few moments of a parenting decision, Ashley hurried in after the rest of us. Soon, the darkness swallowed us whole. Inside, the cave was quite larger than it appeared. It proceeded inwards for about 200 meters, then sloped down quite quickly.

As per usual, I ordered the group members to buddy up, a system in which a group divided into pairs and threes and were responsible for keeping together. Ashley and I were partners, given that I was the most experienced and he was the least. It wasn't as fun spielunking when he had to care for somebody else, but it was a necessary evil. Besides, he was a quick learner. Soon the sunlight from the cave mouth faded. Flares out, everybody, I ordered. One by one, the expedition members cracked the flares.

and as per local guidelines, each member carried two packs of 30 handheld flares. It may have been excessive, but the flares weren't very strong and only provided enough light for the immediate area around the user. I took a glow stick from my pack and wedged it into the rock beside me. Only I carried these, and they were quite longer than the flares, able to last up to 12 hours with diminishing light after eight. I'd use them to mark our trail back off. up. Soon we continued down. The handheld flares lasted for 15 minutes on average, and soon we reached an edge. I ordered the group to stop five feet from the precipice, where the ground leveled out. As you may have noticed, I'm a stickler for safety measures, but not without

good reason. I didn't want a death on my hands. Ashley, crack a flare and throw it down, I said, watching to see how he did it. it. Asch withdrew a flare from his pack and let it. Then, without moving, he tossed it forward down the hole. I nodded in approval. He hadn't moved forward from the five-meter guideline. I crept forward to the precipice and looked into the abyss. Then I saw it. Descending into the darkness, barely half a meter from the cliff edge, was what appeared to be a staircase, too. The light of the flare made one thing quite clear. It wasn't a man-made staircase.

At least, it didn't look like one. It appeared to be hewn out of the descending rock, meaning that the original cliff would have extended further into the cave. The stairs were rough and uneven, but it was close enough for government work, as the saying goes. What is it? One of the group members asked from behind me. Looks like a natural staircase of sorts, I answered, distracted.

I withdrew another glowstick from my bag and planted at the top of the stairs. Let's go. We descended cautiously, for our caves are notoriously deceptive. Ahead of me, the darkness grew thicker. It seemed palpable, almost physical. As if my thoughts were true, the flares we held seemed to diminish in the face of the abyss. After 50 or so steps, I reached the bottom. That's when I heard the crack.

It sounded like a gunshot, loud and sharp. I spun at the foot of the stairs. Behind me, Jason was tumbling roughly down the last few steps, straight towards me. I spun out of the way and he crashed to the floor, moaning in agony. The rest of the group hurried towards me concerned, as I bent to inspect the injury. It was obvious. His ankle was twisted at an unnatural angle, clearly

broken. Jason's face had rapidly lost color. Karen, Vincent, grab him by the arms, carefully. I said quietly, unwilling to exacerbate the situation by panicking.

They picked him up slowly. His ankle dangled grotesquely beneath him. Something glinted under the crimson light of the flare. I knew it was bone. I reached into my pack, taking out two small batons and a white bandage. This is going to hurt, I warned.

The caution was wasted on Jason anyway. He was half unconscious. I grabbed his ankle and twisted. His ankle cracked again. That roused Jason from his stupor. He screamed piercingly. loud enough to hurt my ears. Quickly, trying not to prolong his agony, I wound the bandage around the batons,

which braced either side of his leg. The screaming stopped, but not because the pain had faded. He was unconscious. Take him up to the entrance of the cave into the hospital. If he wakes, give him these pain killers. I told his helpers. Kiernan Vincent nodded and began arduous climb up to the surface. holding their unconscious ward.

Shouldn't we go with him? I mean, his ankle was... Ash, he began. But I cut him off. No. We came this far. We're not going to stop now. I want to investigate this cave to the end.

Remember, I told you that you couldn't change your mind. I said sharply, taking out my anger, letting the accident happen under my leadership on him. Ashley, known as Ash, to his friends, but I never used that, fell silent. I felt a fleeting sense of guilt at my attitude. I brushed it off and spun around. Already Jason and the others were out of view. Around the group, the darkness surrounded us, like a malevolent entity.

The landing we were on led further into the cave for quite a while, and we proceeded incident-free, thankfully. I marked our progress with the glow sticks at various intervals. Strangely, like the flares, they gave off less light the deeper we progressed. It began to unnerved me. I could tell the others noticed it too. Alex and Samantha, who were incidentally brother and sister, fell a few steps behind us. Ashley, to my right, was silent.

Finally, as the flares grew even dimmer, I saw something in the wall to my right. I called the diminished group over and cracked a new flare to provide extra light. It appeared to be some sort of carving in the wall. I studied it carefully. The scene depicted a few humanoid forms on the ground. A few scratches of red seemed to indicate wounds. Various pillars around them rose to the roof of the cavern.

But that wasn't nearly the worst part. In front of the people, the victims I now corrected myself, was a large figure. It may have had detail in the past, but only the outline remained. The body was scratched out. It was a disturbing scene. Then I looked beneath the scene and my eyes widened. It had a message. Three.

The strange thing about the message was that it was an in in a scene. English. The carving looked entirely authentic, meaning that a caveman, if you pardon the pun, had created it. I found it impossible that the same person could have scrawled the five words below the picture. Behind me, Alex read it loud. The jackal in the cave. How strange, he said. Indeed, that was the message, written entirely in capital. I dismissed the painting and turned back to the main path. It was obviously a hoax. There's no way a caveman could write in any script, alone in English.

Probably some kid mucking around in days long past. But it still made me uneasy, regardless of what I assumed it to be. If it was a hoax, then why would you? Why does it look so fucking authentic? Eventually, the four of us had our fill of the jackal in the cave, and after Ashley had snapped a photo of it for a keepsake, we continued into the cave. I was forced to light two flares at a time now to ward off the choking darkness. The diminishing effectiveness of the flares puzzled me.

In all my time, slunking, I'd never encountered anything like it. I wondered whether it was a defective bunch or some other reason. It had to have a logical, rational reason. Behind me, Alex and Samantha were still locked in conversation. I picked up snatches of the heated debate as we walked. They, like me, are still pondering the origin of the admittedly ominous cave drawing. I wish they'd drop it already, or at least quiet and down. I looked to my right, saw nothing but a sloping cave wall and looked away, back to the trail.

I froze and turned. There among the rock that I just glanced at was another carving. I felt sick as I hurried over to it. The red glow of the flare is flickered on the wall, dancing over the picture, making it look demonic under the sparse light. It depicted a scene much like the last, except there were only two bodies on the floor. The third was in mid-air, seemingly heavy air. held by an appendage.

Not quite an arm, not quite a tentacle. From the titular jackal, the pillars around the scene appeared again, except with small indistinct etching on them. Like before, only the faint outline of the jackal appeared. The rest of it having been scribbled, or scratched, I couldn't tell which, out. Underneath it was another five-word message, one that I read quickly and immediately wished I hadn't. Go back.

The jackal waits, it said. I turned from the carving as the others moved in to get a good look and tried not to panic. The air felt thin and dry, much like the air in the Andes. I'd gone climbing there a few years ago and terrible things happened, which explained my preference for underground rocks as opposed to aerial ones. That's a story for another day and another time. Around me the darkness was thick. I can no longer see it without the flares in aid.

Suddenly, irrationally, I knew if I stayed in this underground labyrinth for much longer I'd lose my sanity. But that was the mind of an irrational man talking. Leant against the opposite wall, breathing deeply and slowly to regulate my rapid heartbeat. Spot stands in front of my eyes momentarily as I oxygenated my blood-werectored. rapidly. Slowly, the panic faded, to be replaced by a sense of calm. I didn't get overworked often, but when I did, I tended to edge towards hysteria. Taking one last deep breath, I straightened and looked around. That's when I realized that Ashley was gone. Four. Slowly I stood,

scanning the passage for any sign of Ashley. Samantha and Alex were still arguing over the cave carving. They were typically argumentative of identical twins. As Alex drew breath to continue his opinion, I stepped between them, holding my hands up in peace. Have either of you seen Ashley? He's gone, I said, stepping back once I saw that they'd ceased fighting and listened to what I said. No? They said in unison.

I sighed in frustration and looked around the cavern. There was no trace of Ashley anywhere. He couldn't have gone far, not with that massive pack he had strapped to him. Alex said reasonably, possibly sensing the panic that I felt. The entire expedition had had problems from the start. First the dropouts, then Jason. Now this. It was like we were cursed or some other superstitious bullshit.

I was a born skeptic and proud of it. He could have only gone forward or back, Samantha said, walking forward to the edge of the light and looking around. We should split up and no, I said, Resolute, we are not going to split up under any circumstances. If Ashley went back, he'll eventually get out of the cave by himself. So we go forward and hope that stupid prick hasn't done. anything reckless. I interjected flatly,

turning away from the duo and proceeding into the darkness. After a shared glance, the meaning of which was undecipherable, at least to me, they followed. And so we went. As we progressed, I felt the path lead downwards. It was a marginal slope,

undetectable by the naked eye. But I felt myself pushing harder into the rock with each step. thanks to the extra gravity of descent. It wasn't of any concern to me. Such natural formations were common. We proceeded even further into the depths of the cave, calling out Ashley's name as we went, and then I saw it.

It was over to the right, like the others. It was, of course, another carving. I felt sick as I scanned it. The titular jackal had increased, in size yet again. The tentacle appendage hybrid was shorter, as if the beast had pulled it back. The previously held corpse was ominously absent from the scene. I tried not to think about what had happened to it.

The pillars with carvings on them also appeared. As before, the jackal had the majority of its detail erased, making a little more than an outline. However, there was detail on the edge of the beast this time. I knew the short lines represented skin, apparently leathery and cracked, and I read the message. It was again five words long, and my eyes widened in a flash of shock and fear. This is your last chance, it read. I stumbled back from the carving and fear, raising my hands in front of me as if we were a and coming for me.

As I hit the back wall, I saw Alex and Samantha close in to study the carving. They seemed unaffected by the ominous message. I gasped for breath, winded by the sudden impact of the wall against me. I tried to clear my mind, to cut through the mix of panic and fear I now fell to having read the carving. The carving which I no longer thought was work of pranksters, hoping to see Ashley. Instead, I saw the gateway. It appeared to be a stone arch, hewn from black granite. It followed the contour of the cave precisely, creating a strange effect.

Carvings of various things, symbols, letters, and pictures covered the gateway, which appeared to be seamless, without join or cut. I approached it almost unwillingly, feeling my horizon. in my throat as I stared at the ground immediately behind the gateway and onwards. The walls, floor, and roof of the cave from the gateway onwards were covered in fine white dust. Alex and Samantha joined me at the edge of the gateway. We were silent, studying the gateway. I looked at the top and saw yet another five-letter message carved there.

The gateway to the jackal, read the message. and hell with it, I thought. Did the scream. It was Ashley screaming. We have to get to him! Alex yelled, turning to me. With every fiber in my body, I resisted stepping through the gateway. I knew if we did, terrible things would happen.

If I stepped through, I knew sooner or later, I would meet the jackal. But I had to know about Ashley, the carvings everything. I had to. So with a deep breath and trying to still my hands, I made my choice. Together, we stepped through the gateway to Ashley and the dark beast beyond. Five, the first change I noticed was the ground. The fine white dust was coated on the entire cave, right past the gateway. I didn't know the origin.

It didn't appear to be from any sort of mineral or rock. encountered before. It was strange. But then given the nature of the rest of the cave, that made it almost normal, the darkness grew progressively thicker as we advanced. I noticed we were running low on flares, about only 20 each. It was a problem, but not one I was particularly concerned about considering the current predicament we were in.

Ashley hadn't made any noise besides his original scream. It concerned me far more than if you kept screaming. There could be a logical reason for him not screaming. Perhaps he ran deeper into the cave. Maybe he was conserving his voice, I thought. But I was throwing up improbable answers to cover my fear. My truth arose unbidden to my mind. What if whatever made him scream stopped him from doing so again?

Felt sick ahead of us. not even 100 meters from the gateway was a crossroads. The first such divide in the otherwise linear path. I appreciated the lack of divergent paths so far because it meant we didn't have to divide our group, stunted as it was. Appearing now as it had seemed like extraordinarily bad luck on our part. Seemed like that's the key point. Nothing in this god-forsaken cave had been left a chance.

Lost in my grim thoughts as I was, I didn't notice the object ahead of us until Alex exclaimed and ran towards it. Stardled, I looked up. Alex blocked my view of it. All I knew of it apparently was that was quite large. I ran towards it. It was Ashley's pack, ripped and torn. Blood covered it in the immediate area in irregular patterns. Beside me, Alex stepped back tentatively, lost for words.

Something attacked him. Tore the pack right from his back with incredible force. It must have injured him as well, judging by the blood. I just said quietly, surprised at how clinical and calm my assessment of the scene have been. That's it. I'm out. I'm going. Alex said, turning away quickly.

But not before I saw the fear in. his eyes. He was terrified. Samantha nodded in agreement, turning to leave as well. I didn't try to stop either of them. They would be back. You won't get a foot past the gateway. I called to them, certain that it would prevent them from leaving. I turned back to Ashley's pack slowly and began searching through it quickly, taking only a few items. I hesitated when my hand landed on the flare gun, but I took it and kept it in my hand. I knew from experience against various types of wildlife that it made an effective weapon. If I met anything, anything that wasn't Ashley, I would fire without mercy.

I stood and chose the right-hand passageway. I didn't feel scared anymore. In fact, I didn't feel a thing. Adrenaline was coursing through my system, leaving no room for it. fear or anything else. It grew progressively darker. The darkness was thick and cloying as a lifetime asthma sufferer reminded me of when I needed my inhaler.

I knew the flares would soon be useless, regardless of whether they should have been effective. Beside me, I noticed scrawling in the dust, apparently of human origin. That, at least, was no mystery. I glanced at each in turn, almost mechanically, knowing that it couldn't be any worse. It appeared that we weren't the first people to stumble into this place. I have seen it, and it blinded me. This is its domain, taller than any human. Suddenly I stopped.

The last was different from the others, in lowercase, and it appeared to be freshly written. It cut me, I'm running from my life. Ashley's writing. And then, as if by magic, I heard two things. A scream? And a roar. Ashley, the jackal. And they were close.

I ran forwards. Six. I felt, rather than sense, that I breached into a massive cavern. To prove my theory, I am. impulsively punched the air to my right. If I was still in the claustrophobic cave, my hand would surely be shattered on the wall. As I expected, I hit nothing but the stagnant air of the cave. The flares provided nothing more than a dim glow.

I looked at it in horror as the glow faded slowly. The fading light represented my last defense against the virulent darkness of the cave. Or, cave, as I felt it should be called. and its sole inhabitant. The inhabitant some called the jackal. The light faded completely. I was alone. I was.

I heard the voice. It was flat and terrible and loud. It reverberated around me, seemingly without a source or direction. I spun in the darkness, the cloying, constricting darkness. I felt my heart in my throat. I knew that if I walked backwards, I'd no longer find the passageway that led me into the layer of the jackal. Once you entered this central cavern, there was no leaving it.

Just like the carvings promised, I thought, This is my cave! It bellowed. I screamed and ran. It was a futile gesture. The voice boomed around me, terrifying in its alienness and its flat, expressionless quality. the jackal was not human

nor was it even some revenant or ghost of a forgotten culture it was something that had no place in this universe and something that I wished never to see my heart thundered in my chest and my eyes vibrated I can no longer even control my own body I'm a prisoner in my own body

the other one screamed before I took him boomed the jackal interrupting my thoughts. Fuck you! I screamed hysterically into the darkness around me. It was a petty rebellion. I doubted the jackal even knew what it meant. But I felt better for it, all the same.

Around me, the darkness coalesed. It's alive, I thought. I tried to stifle a scream as an image popped into my head. Thousands of millions of bugs crawling over me in the darkness, biting, scratching, and running, and was banished moments later by the jackal's next terrible oration. You will remain here forever. It howled.

I know that voice, I thought vaguely. After the voice came the footsteps. I sensed. I could both feel the tremors and hear the steps. Hundreds of them around me. Pounding the voice. floor in a rapid and terrifying rhythm. Rolling thunder, I thought crazily, and laughed. The little sanity I possessed was rapidly being eroded away by darkness, millions of bugs,

rolling thunder, the jackal and its influence over the cave, and consequently those inside it. I doubted if Ashley was still alive, that Samantha and Alex had escaped. I didn't even think that Karen, Vincent, and Jason had escaped alive. Even as I considered this, the jackal howled again, the flat voice echoing through my dark prison. They all died as will. The jackal roared in its expressionless tone, creating a queer wavering effect to hurt my ears. I throw burned from the lack of moisture. A headache pounded in my head and my ears throbbed, strangely in time with the footsteps.

I'm just rolling thunder, I thought, and laughed crazily. Then as I considered what the jackal had said, it can read my thoughts. It was not such a fantastical idea. The jackal had only ever spoken after I had had a thought. A coincidence? I think not. Pardon the pun. I considered the mental connection and an idea began to form.

I stopped running and emptied my thoughts, banishing the sensory manipulations the jackal used on me. The footsteps around me intensified, but I heard none of it as I shut down my senses and opened my mind. Then, exposed without the cloak of my previous panic thoughts, I felt it. The jackal was mine. It was a colossal. alien thing, like a structure too gargantuan for the human mind to comprehend. It would dwarf me, swallow my mind whole, and leave me a gibbering wreck if I considered it for too long. It wasn't even natural,

let alone human. Thoughts and ideas seemed to be constructed in a fashion that was incomprehensible to the human mind. In a word, the jackal's presence was dark. As I felt its presence wash over me, I steeled myself and sprung the trap. Instantly, before the beast could retreat, I thought of light, a blinding supernova, more light than any human had ever witnessed, a bright inferno of light. I let the mental image expand in my mind and over on to the jackal's colossal presence. I guess that such a creature had never seen light, or if it had, it had been so long underground, bathed in the darkness which had controlled such light, even as an image, would do tremendous harm to it, considering that the jackal's mental

abilities far outclassed my own. I was right. The instant the supernova image touched the jackal's presence, a tremendous shriek-filled chamber, immediately overtaking all the phantom footsteps that had so tormented me. I grinned savagely despite the pain the high-pitched squeal caused my ears. That at least sounded vaguely human. It felt empowering to know that I had hurt the jackal, probably badly. I heard rushing noises around me and opened my eyes.

Impossibly, the violent darkness was retracting around me. I spun wildly in the grip of the receding darkness. As I moved, I glanced around me. I was in a huge chamber, one that extended far into the distance. I saw columns and pillars and carvings, and realized that this really was the jackal's feeding ground layer that had been the subject of the ominous cave paintings. I had no time to consider that, however, as the final darkness receded.

The cave that was lit by a light that had no source. My mental light, I thought, exposed. its only occupant and that occupant's slave. Just like that, I saw them. Ashley. The jackal. Seven. I could never truly describe the beast before me.

It wasn't because I didn't know the right way to articulate it. I knew exactly what to call it. I simply could not comprehend the jackal, as if I were viewing it from the exactus. extremities of my peripheral vision. It was blurry and soft and weak, weak because it had no hard angles or edges. No matter how hard I looked, how much I stared, the jackal remained hidden to me, a formless shape hidden under a veil of unreality. The cave paintings, carvings, whatever adjective I attached to them, were truer than I had thought.

Even after the jackal it turned out to be real, they depicted a blurry, formless jackal. And so it was. Yes, I knew exactly what it was. Indistinct. Ashley, however, was not. I looked at him in horror. His body was covered in blood, flesh,

and other less identifiable materials. I could count at least eight visible wounds and more red lines that I couldn't distinguish from the gore saturating its form. A gaping wound cut across his stomach, revealing intestines, pink and rubbery. Blood flowed from multiple slashes on his arms and legs. He was probably dead, certainly unconscious. But that wasn't the worst of it. His entire right ear had been torn off clean from his head.

I rose in my throat as I stared at his prostrate form, horrified. The jackal had done this to him. As I thought of the beast before me, I realized that the cavern around me was silent. The jackal screech, so loud to begin with, had been cut off instantly some moments previous. Unlike the gradual decline that was characteristic in the case, humans. Then again, it isn't and has never resembled anything close to a human. I would wager every possession I own. It had no similarity to any creature of this dimension. I can't even begin to consider its true form. Even as I watched, it got infinitely worse. Until Ashley began to

move through the air, I hadn't even noticed that he'd been airborne. So enthralled that I had been bend by his ravaged body. Slowly, never wavering in speed, Ashley began to recede towards a blurry shape to represent of the jackal. I thought back to the carvings in horror. With every sacrifice, it gains form, and so a greater foothold in this dimension.

I wanted to rush forward and tear Ashley from the jackal's thrall. But to come within reach of the creature would mean an unspeakable end. One that I would have already faced had I not wounded it with the psychic supernova. Suddenly, Ashley stopped moving, mere meters from the jackal. And I realized with a shock how the jackal had previously communicated. Through Ashley, now I know why I recognize that voice. Even distorted as it had been. Ashley's mouth opened, and from it roared the jackal.

You will suffer for using the glow. against me. Suffer as he did. Roared the grotesque Ashley Jackal hybrid. Evidently it only knew the light that had so hurt it as the glow. It didn't matter. The important thing was that it had been hurt and badly. I probed my mind.

No trace of the jackal's presence remain. Apparently, that part of it physically manifest that in the virulent darkness had been either destroyed or banished by my mental counterattack. Even if I meet my death, your beast, I will do my utmost to bring you with me. I responded bravely. The saturating fear and accompanying thoughts which had so crippled me, both mentally and physically, was gone. Now I could see the jackal, regardless of how well I could comprehend it. Much of the terror that I had felt at the hands of it was gone.

Now I could see the jackal, regardless of how well I could comprehend it, much of the terror that I had felt at the hands of it was gone, just like the virulent darkness. Even the voice was less intimidating now that it had a definitive source. It spoke again. I have consumed many. This one is the last. I will be free.

from my prison. The jackal bellowed, drawing Ashley towards him. No, I whispered. I sprinted towards them. No matter the cost, even if it were my life or my sanity, I could not allow the jackal to consume Ashley and escape whatever prison it was incarcerated in. Such a beast would wreck unimaginable destruction on the surface.

I pulled a silver piece of equipment. The last thing I had taken from Ashley's pack. The flare gun. As the jackal and Ashley came together, I drew and fired. Exploded around me. Bonus episode. Creepy Presents. And well, I can't explain what happened to my face late last night.

Written by J.R. Hamanthoshen. And narrated by J.V. Hampton Van Sant. unison, the little kids all started screaming behind the door, like they were being slaughtered. I looked at the other parents who'd also just left Family Breakfast Day at our daycare, and said, You know, we really should cancel Vivisection Day. I get why it's popular, but it doesn't seem like the kids like it too much. It got a laugh from Olivia's dad. So I knew he was cool. Olivia and my daughter Jane were already basically best friends in school,

and Olivia's dad seemed cool too. It was a good feeling because it felt like we were all going to be friends. So we invited then to... Hmm. You know, I can't help but notice you didn't even smile at that vivisection joke. I mean, come on, that was clever. Don't take this the wrong way, but I always imagined having a male couples counselor. I'm not sure why.

I always felt maybe they would be more on my side. Ironically, I'm the one who always wanted to do couples counseling, ever since Jane was born almost three years ago and things started getting bad between my wife Connie and I. Did you meet Connie yet? I guess I'll have to accept a Zoom call as meeting someone. My lip? Wow, I didn't think you could see that.

I take it back. A Zoom call is as good as the real thing. I didn't mean that to sound sound. sarcastic. Maybe I did. I don't even know anymore. Yeah, I just cut myself somehow, shaving, I guess. I let Jane help me shave, so I'll blame her. She can put the shaving cream on, but her straight razoring could use some work. I didn't know it looked that bad. Not bad. Not bad. but painful? Huh, great, another thing to add to the list.

Anyway, maybe it means something that before I'd never actually admitted out loud that I wanted a male counselor because that's one of those things you aren't supposed to say. But I just think the whole thing between us is ruined anyway. So what's the point? I mean between Connie and I. Yes, I believe that's true.

But I guess it hasn't really sunk in. Maybe it is sinking in right now because, to be honest, I feel sick to my stomach. Absolutely sick to my stomach. I want to... I wish this wasn't happening, it's fair to say. I agree. It's good I still care and want to save the relationship.

That is a good sign. It's more that I wish I could save it rather than I expect to save it because that's just not going to happen. I guess I can explain. I know you promise to be fair to both sides, and it's encouraging you wanted to meet with us separately to get to know us before we officially start therapy. But it's going to be a waste of time.

Well, I pause there, I guess, because it's extremely, extremely, depressing to say all of this out loud, because I'm not going to allow our family to break up. But I don't know what to do. Things are going to get bad. I love Jane more than anyone has ever loved anything. Daddy was her first word, actually. Unfortunately, she said it as part of her first sentence. Daddy is a moron. See, you kind of almost laughed at that. Jane has my eyes and my hair and my sassy sense of humor,

and I love her more than anyone has ever loved anybody. You're right. I tell her that I love her more than anyone has loved anybody because it's true. I love her so much It causes me anguish If that makes any sense I mentioned the Vivisection joke that was a hit at daycare

But bombs so tragically here Because that was the same day The Troubles really began Or at least when I became truly aware Of the trouble I'll explain. I liked Olivia's dad. Jane and Olivia were like best friends at school.

Yeah, we call daycare school. So I'd started talking to Olivia's dad, and we arranged a play date at the park afterward. It was fun and fine, and Jane and Olivia were holding hands and playing Ring Around the Rosie, and in between worrying about them hurting themselves when they all fell down, I had the most unbelievable case of deja vu you could ever imagine.

Like I felt I had experienced this exact moment before. You can't describe the feeling to someone who's never had it. It would make you believe in all the multiple lives, parallel dimensions and all that bullshit, make you start a dream journal or something stupid like that, because the feeling is so immense. It's like, how can I have such an absolute rock-solid memory of this exact moment? Then a day goes by or so, and the vividness of it kind of goes away. But the scary implications seem to hover around.

But when I thought about it more, the feeling changed. It wasn't that I'd seen that exact event before. It was something more about my perspective on Olivia's face that brought back some kind of memory. I'd had a view of the right side of her face over her shoulder as she'd spun around, kind of surprised and weirdly exhilarated. Like something about this little girl, her brown curly hair, a little taller than Jane, it was like,

oh, God, well, great, now I can't not explain, because if I stop, you are going to think I'm a fucking pedophile or something. I promise you, I'm not. There's nothing like that. I should, ugh, I should just stop talking. I don't. want to stop talking, but I should. This is going to sound guilty as hell. I know how it sounds, but it is all confidential, right? As long as I don't tell you about a crime, but since I didn't

commit a crime, I don't have to worry about that. You are just going to think I'm crazy and take Connie's side on everything, even though She doesn't even know anything about this stuff, not really. And these last three years, I've felt like I've been doing everything I can to take care of her and Jane while she complains about petty stuff. I'm not saying she doesn't do a ton also. But I don't complain about what she does or doesn't do, but she has no qualms. complaining all the time about me to me. And I know this sounds whatever,

but if I had a male counselor, I could say her being pregnant again certainly doesn't help her mood or how she reacts to things. But I know you're not supposed to say things like that. I just started having, very vivid, I can't call them dreams because they were while I was awake. Just that image again of looking over Connie's right shoulder, her facial expression.

That feeling I had been there before, I had seen that view of her, or at least someone who looked very much like her, except now it was like she was just still smiling, sort of, but turning away in that fun, scared, surprised, curious way that kids do. Like when they want to see a clown make a balloon animal, and when the air shoots into the balloon, they're all exhilarated but also frightened, and then they say, again.

I kept seeing that, but in the dreams, we should call it, I was getting closer. And I couldn't tell what time it was. It definitely wasn't in the park. Oh, you specialize in dreams. Huh, well, just my lucky day then.

I'm not trying to be sarcastic. Medications. Yeah. I had stopped taking my anxiety pills, unintentionally at first, because I was just too busy and it slipped my mind. But then I was like, Hey, I'm feeling things again.

What is this phenomenon called again? An erection? See? Sorry, see. this is why I need a male marriage counselor. So I wouldn't say I stopped taking them all together, but I took them intermittently. Yeah, maybe that's why these thoughts came to me.

Sure, it's possible. Connie complained I was becoming too distant and less helpful. Which is only half true. More distant, yes, but definitely not with Jane. If anything, I was more attentive to her than ever. I mean, I'm not saying I'm the best at everything. Like, to get Jane to brush her teeth, you tell her to do it. She doesn't.

You tell her if she wants to eat desserts again, she needs to do it, because she needs to get the sugars off her teeth. That doesn't work. Then you say she needs to get the sugar bugs off because they'll hurt her teeth. And then you say, Oh, look, your mouth is full of sugar bugs. I see them crawling on your teeth. Here, let me get them with the toothbrush.

So yeah, to get her to brush her teeth, I tell her her mouth is full of bugs. Then it doesn't really work anymore because the idea cracks her up. But my point is, I handled bedtime by myself to give Connie time to relax, and I was more helpful around the house. It kind of felt like I was scared. I was going to become unmoored or something, float away inside my own head, so I attach myself to chores and routines to keep myself grounded. I've never been frightened by dreams or daydreams or whatever you want to call them, and never had persistent dreams either.

I just... Just please, excuse me, for a second. Hmm. Yeah. Okay. I... Yes, the dreams, if you want to call them that, got worse. Listen, they weren't dreams because I was awake, and calling them dreams makes them feel, I don't know, safer?

I kept seeing, yes, I know this is confidential. I, uh, okay, yes, let's call them dreams. It was like the feeling of deja vu again, except it wasn't a memory. It was... It wasn't Olivia, but it was another little girl who, I guess, looked like Olivia, or close enough to how Olivia looked at that moment with Jane at the park from that angle over the shoulder. In the dream, I could smell, I mean, I could practically taste the citrusiness of whatever cleaning product had been used on this girl's, this little girl's clothes.

I could see in full this girl's black and white t-shirt with the repeating patterns of little unicorns and rainbow horns doing different little activities. And I don't know how, because that's not a shirt Jane has or a shirt I've seen before. I could see the little girl beginning to turn and the fun of surprise becoming something else. I could feel, hmm. I saw other things, too. An empty house, a window broken from the inside, a woman in her 30s screaming with grief so tremendous

you think she was going to explode. These were almost composed shots at almost painterly vantage points. Connie started getting angrier around this time, which led us here, I guess, this last-ditch effort. I was dealing with a lot. She said I would space out, and she was right. But better to space out silently than share what I was thinking. I couldn't say what exactly, but I was afraid to ever be in a situation where I was even somewhat alone with Olivia. Not that there would be any reason I'd be alone with her.

But I just had this... It's more than a feeling. It was like a certainty that if I was alone with her, something would just begin to happen, like a Rube Goldberg machine where the process gets underway, and then it can't be stopped until it ends with a big bang. I just wanted to avoid picking up Jane from school

and taking her to the park because I had to avoid Olivia, and Connie thought I was doing some vindictive power play mind game with her. What process did I think would start? I can't say exactly. The dream of the... a girl, what am I doing in the dream? I'll just say, I don't know. I'm, I, I, I know it's only a dream. I don't think it's important. It, it doesn't matter. Just give me a minute. Okay, I'm, and this is going to sound insane, and let me explain first, but it's like I'm unzipping.

No, no, no, wait, not what. It's, well, maybe this would be the only time in human history where someone could hear that a man was unzipping himself near a little girl and wish that it meant what you think it meant. rather than what I really mean. No, it's like I was unzipping my entire self, not my pants or anything, but I was unzipping myself wide. And that's why, at first, the girl was spinning around,

kind of laughing and excited, because the trick was so crazy to her. I was unzipping. That's the only way I can describe it. It's like I was unzipping myself the way you take off a jacket. And as you take off the jacket, you widen and take up more space. It was like I was doing that, but not with a jacket, with myself. Medical issues.

was born with an extra heart valve, though, yeah, of course I was born with it. It's not like I grew an extra one during puberty. Other than that, the anxiety, depression stuff I mentioned before, I've been taking pills for so long I don't even remember when I started getting on them, or even why. I was on them since I was a child. I actually stopped taking them at first when we were trying to conceive because being on them made things the harder or, well, the opposite problem,

and also I didn't want the pills to affect the pregnancy somehow. No, I didn't consult with anyone when I decided that. I just did it. I can't explain further. See, what are you going to do with this information? Uh-huh. Yeah. This is doomed.

I'm doomed. I'm going to lose my kid. I can't let that happen. Under no circumstances whatsoever will I ever allow that to happen. We are never getting divorced. We are never. There is never going to do. be a moment where I am not in her life whenever I want to be.

To help you help me? You already probably think I'm crazy, and maybe I am, because I'm still talking about this. Because it doesn't matter, I can't stop this. What else happens in the dream? I told you it wasn't a dream. It was something else, and I see myself. What I believed to be my arms, what were my arms. And it's from an impossible angle, because the perspective is from as if someone was facing me.

But it's like I'm shoveling her toward me. and I'm positively inhaling her. I see myself shoveling as much of her into my mouth as I can. One huge distended eye open, all bug-eyed, the other squinty shut, with the effort of chewing. A huge full moon of a palm over my mouth to keep everything down. My fingers distended and knobbed as if I've doubled the amount of bones in them. And they were bone white, but reflective, like they were made out of fucking conch shells or something. No, I'm not being metaphoric.

What would the metaphor even be there? What else do you want me to say? I consume her. I spread wide and consume her, and she's entirely, entirely gone. I thought dreams were your forte, and now you're being silent. How do you think I...

They were dreams. That's what happens in the dream. It's when I was... dreaming. I remember now. Yeah, that's right. I was asleep. And that's what I dreamed. And I dreamed all the other images, too. Okay? The crying mother, the pointless, cruelly broken window where the mother learned someone got into the house and needlessly went out through the window. The silent, quiet, bare room in the house where it happened? As if the entire house was just waiting for the little girl to come back.

As if the house notices the quiet and thinks nothing bad could possibly have happened here, it's so peaceful. Not knowing the violence was so total, she's entirely gone. every part of her, and she's not coming back. Where does this dream take place? I can't say. Who do I think the girl is? I can't say, except I guess she looked like Olivia.

Other dreams like that one? What's the point? Yes, that was the first, but not the last. and it got to the point where, uh, yeah, the news? Yeah, I follow the news. Yeah, scary times. Uh-huh, could be.

You think? These thoughts could be, what did you say? A subconscious processing about the recent news? The fears about my daughter ending up like those missing kids? Uh-huh. Yeah. Uh-huh.

Yeah. Sorry. No, I'm listening. I just don't know what you want me to say. Yeah. Yeah. No. I'm not withdrawing.

I'm listening. Yeah. You? really are fucking stupid, aren't you? This is a waste of time. I'm completely fucked. I don't know what I was thinking, and you aren't going to be able to help me. He did bedtime with Jane that night. His lip was still cut, and his gums were bleeding. And if this continued, he wouldn't be able to get away with saying he cut himself shaving, and he flossed too hard. He loved Jane so much, and he had to suppress any thought that these opportunities would become scarcer.

Again, she would say. She was going through some toddler phase where she liked to ask about scenes in her picture books where someone was sad or crying. and during bedtime she would ask him to cry, and when she got tired of his pretend daddy cries, he'd look genuinely sad, and he'd cry in a pitch-perfect little girl's voice. Then another, and another, and another, and another, and another. And Jane would ask, Who'd at? She said, who'd at, because he once used the phrase.

And she liked the way it sounded. And if he could remember, he'd tell her the name of the little girl whose voice he was replicating. Again. And she'd be so happy. For more information on this podcast, including how to submit your own story for consideration, please visit creepypod.com. You can also follow us at CreepyPod on social media and YouTube. All stories told on this podcast are done so through Creative Commons Share-A-like licensing or with written consent from the authors.

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