Creepy - The Daedalus Experiment

Episode Date: September 12, 2022

They sent him to die...***Written by: Kyle Harrison***Bonus Episode: "The rain brings things in my house" Written by: Deadshot300 and Narrated by: Nate DuFort ***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.

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No. This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastas and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Creepy Presents

The Dattalus Experiment Written by Kyle Harrison. The following recordings are part of the datalus operation, a top secret experiment taking place in redacted by Only authorized members may listen to these. files. Oh, 400 hours. We've arrived at the testing site. The others seem pretty upbeat, but I don't share their feelings. This is not my first choice. I'd leave in my last one, if I'm being honest. I was assigned here because I have issues with authority. Knocked to the

bottom of the ladder and given the most grueling tasks and the hopes I'll eventually resign or wind killing myself. This assignment, my former commanding officer told me, was where good men went to die. Don't be deceived into thinking you're ready for what's happening here. You aren't, and you never will be. I took those words to heart as I passed through the triple layer of security and took a moment to calm my heart with a quick smoke. Not the best of habits, I know.

But I'd also been told that anything outside the quarantine zone wasn't going to be allowed in. All my personal effects, the memories of my time serving the military, even the picture of my girlfriend would be left behind. Someone told me it wasn't too late for me to run and hide. That was my new boss, a nerfed murk named Roland Mathis. He was either Eastern European or Mediterranean, but he looked like he was the type that meant business and had probably seen twice as many battles as me. He was counting inventory. as a soldier set up a base camp and a senior communications officer was explaining how we'd be able to transmit anything from the other side once we went through. So this is for real, I asked.

Recalling the bizarre way the mission had been described when I've been told I was headed as godforsaken place. The file was thin, but claimed that the building we were now entering it experienced an incident relating to an experiment only about five months ago. Since that time, four teams had attempted to discern what had happened, and none had returned successfully. According to the last transmission, there were large floculations and radio waves and electromagnetism. It was a wall of noise, a glitch in the very fabric of our reality. The squad had come to call this zone as a liminal gate, as the only footage we'd obtained from the other side show Drab Corridor, that went on forever.

Forests and lights had hardly provided any illumination at all, and a sense of emptiness that filled anyone who watched the media with a sense of dread. When I first saw the report, I'd assumed it was some sort of sick joke, or a confusion in the mission statement. But now, as we prepared to barge into the abandoned building acting as though over a battle zone,

I realized that this was more dangerous than anyone had imagined. They told me, to get my suit on and be ready to move out in one hour. I took the time to call my girlfriend. She didn't even know about my reassignment, and I wasn't entirely sure how to explain it. Thankfully, I only got her voicemail, so I made it quick. Hey, it's me.

I'm on the field again, just like you want it. I'm about to head out, but I wanted to make sure you're doing okay. I know we haven't had much chance to talk. But I think I'd like to change that. Once this is over, maybe I can just come home. Hell, I wish I could now. I wish I could run into your arms. The message beeped and I cursed myself,

realizing I didn't even have enough time to say all the things I wanted to say. I've made so many mistakes to wind up here. My superiors likely wanted me to enter this building and never return. I suited up and took a deep breath. It was time to prove them wrong. A little 500 hours. I told myself that as Mathis finished getting the others ready, I'd do my best to familiarize myself with the names of my fellow comrades.

We were but a skeleton crew. We went to only investigate as much as possible and report back to HQ. But it was soon very clear I wasn't the only one here who had been sent to be forgotten. Vince Carter, the team's physician, said that he'd been given the assignment after a botched surgery in Boston. Mr. Lange said there were two sisters who needed his assistance, and he was on holiday near evergrove anyway. He said he tried to say to him, but honestly he was called too late.

They didn't like that. And given the fact that they had alcohol in his breath, well, don't have to tell you what happened next. I was focusing on the darkness and thinking, back to the footage at the scene, asking aloud to Commander Roland, where does a power source come from? Apparently, it was one of many questions that we needed to answer. Whetherby, an analyst that seemed close to Roland, was helping to set up a tethering system. All of us would be interconnected to one another via simple pulleys and ropes as though we were planning a spielunking expedition.

It's easy to get lost in there. Make sure you don't lose sight of one another, whether be advised all of us. An older soldier that looked like he should be already past retirement, barked a complaint as an analyst finished the hooks on the rope and gave me a gruff look. I immediately noticed he had a long scar running along the left side of his face, along with a glass orb where his eye had once been. The older man asked if I had something to bother him with. Commander Mathis told us to send out any messages to family or friends in the event we don't return. I didn't see you doing that. I commented. I commented. lamented as we walked towards the darkness.

Nobody out there left for me. Only shadows are my comfort now. He said spitting on the ground. Come on, there must be someone. He turned and jabbed a finger in my chest. Angry I was still pressing the issue. I said there was no one. Leave it at that.

I belong here. The old man growled. I stood in place for a moment, confused by his words, Vincent explained that Marsh was the only one that volunteered. He didn't know why. There were rumors, of course, but nothing solid. I shook off the unease and nodded, activating the light on my helmet and followed the others inside. Mathis was nearing the east wall, setting up small rectangular boxes on the edge of the concrete barrier, and then Weatherby was going to each one

and checking to make sure everything was secure. Roland told us to cover our ears. I barely had time to listen as a strange resonating noise felt the empty building. Then I noticed as the noise got louder that the wall itself seemed to shimmer the way a body of water would. Rippling and vibrating frantically as our commander gave us the

goad. I hesitated. Still unsure about any of this, but it wasn't like I had a choice. The others were already barreling toward the wall as if it wasn't there and the rope would tug me forward anyway. I closed my eyes and ran as well. well, the shimmering wall looming ahead. I screamed as I thought I'd collide with it. Then I did hit

it. And all around me, reality seemed to glitch. Wall shifted and jolted in and out of experience. Hardly there and as firm's bricks all at once. Then I fell to the ground in front of me. It was shade carpet, the kind you might see in a hotel hallway. And as I opened my eyes, I saw it. I saw it. that there was no need for night vision anymore. The dim fluorescent lights revealed the long winding corridors beyond. Immediately my eyes darted about to find the others as I looked down at the rope. It was stretching forward down the hall, but I couldn't see much further than maybe 20 feet until it fell into complete darkness.

Then I swiveled about expecting to see Carter entering from the real world into the strange beyond from the fake wall. Instead, I saw the exact same endless corridors and the rope that was tied to. to my body that connected to him was stretching on in that direction as well for 20 feet until the darkness covered it up. Suddenly I felt very unsure

which way had arrived and which way I should be going. The walls and ceilings all looked the same bland colors. There were no markings or anything to tell me which direction my companions are gone. So I tried to shout.

My voice sounding hollow as it echoed down the hallway. There was no answer. I walked over to the nearest wall and took out a Swiss Army knife from my pocket. I wrote an X on the wall to tell me where I was at. Then I turned to the left and tugged at the rope, calling to Carter and the others again. When silence answered back, I started to pull at the rope and then used it as a guide like Mathis had attended. One step at a time in this strange dimension.

Oh, 700 hours. I don't really know for sure. sure how much time has passed since I arrived, but it certainly feels like at least a few hours because now I'm hungry. I've been following the rope, calling to my fellow soldiers every hundred feet and wondering if I'll be alone forever as I wander these empty liminal spaces. I tell myself not to go up, but that is very hard when it feels like the odds are against me. I've somehow been going in circles as I found the X that I have. marked on the wall at least 22 times, but it doesn't feel like I've turned around.

The rope continues to stretch on infinitely. I decided to take a break and eat the first of my rations, thinking maybe if I stay out, someone will find me. I'm partially correct. But it's not someone. It's something. Oh, 830 hours. I heard something in the distance.

A low grumbling noise that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I knew it couldn't be any animal I was familiar with. It reminded me of an old video cassette recording, warped and beyond understanding, shrieking and scrambled. It was somewhere in front of me. The lights above my head flickered for a moment as the noise got louder, and I stood up keeping my hand on my rapid fire weapon and peering down the next endless corridor or the rope stretched to. I saw something in the shadows. It was distorted and scrawny and warped all at the same time.

It had at least five appendages, a twisted neck, a head that looked larger than its body, a mollet on its abdomen, and claws where its eyes should be. It moved the way a scorpion would. Its long, messy pinch of stabbing in the ground as it crawled first on the floor and then to the walls and ceiling. Every time it made noise, the entire corridor resonated with a vibrating ring of energy, and it was hurrying toward me. Immediately I opened fire on the creature, a string of bullets flying from my weapon towards its open stomach. As it got hit, the fleshy tendrils of the legs and flailing arms wide and shook madly,

absorbing each blow as if they were just striking it there. And it was growing larger, too. too, until the abscesses on its head was too bulky to even hold its own weight, and it tumbled into the room alongside me, running back the way I'd come to the right and away from the path I'd been following. The halls kept stretching on and on as I weaved and hid, trying to make a distance between myself and the monster. The screams vibrated and changed from being almost on top of me at being far away as I kept moving left, then right down the corridors. wondering if I were getting even further away or not.

It's difficult to be sure that there was any progress being made. Then I turned a corner and nearly ran straight into one of the others, Vincent. His eyes wide with fear as he grabbed my shoulders and clasped his hand over my mouth next to prevent any sounds from being heard. We both hunkered down next to a wall as we heard the creature scream and thrash somewhere in a different corridor. Both of us ready to run if necessary. Once the noises died down, I let out a visible sigh or leave and looked down at the rope. He'd also untethered, meaning the chances of us being able to meet the others was even less likely now.

He asked if I'd seen anyone else. I shook my head and no, and he pointed to the right. There's something you need to see, he said. Ten, twenty hours. I'm not entirely sure if the measurement of time means much anymore. But I'm trying my best to keep track of our journey here. Carter seems to know where he's going, falling scratches at the wall to the east

as he kept his weapon steady and we kept moving. Every so often we'd freeze, hide, and listen to the strange monsters that shambled past us, but never would get close. It made me wonder if perhaps a creature itself was also lost here, the same as us. Soon I was beginning to wonder if these markings were ever going to lead any of the same.

where when I saw it look like a door, and I nearly laughed in astonishment. Running toward it, I unlatched the handle and found myself staring while resembled a fire escape of some kind. With stairs it seemed to go on infinitely forever above and below us. Carter reached into his pack and took out a small empty water bottle, tossing it to the stairwell below. We didn't hear it hit the bottom, only seeing it vanish, the bottomless pit. I was about to go exploring this passage when that's the same.

things started out me, Carter explained. I wondered how far it went as I checked for rations. We had at least four more hours worth of food, but that didn't count for water supply. We need to find the other soon, I told him. Carter didn't respond. Instead, using the weapon on his left shoulder to aim toward the darkness and try to judge how far down we'd be going. Carter shot a random bullet in the pit, wondering if it went all the way to hell. We watched as it flew up and out of sight, and I shook my head as we climbed down. I'd say we're already there. 1,200 hours.

We stopped for a break, and I offer a little water I had left to share with Carter as we slid down, and I stretched my legs. The stairs are endless, just like the quarter we came from. I'm beginning to get the feeling we may never leave. It makes my throat feel dry and my legs are numb to the reality that I'll likely die here. just as it was intended. He said the marsh would know what to do and then began to explain why the old man had volunteered. Carter laughed and tossed his empty food can into the pit.

He claimed he was searching for something, like he'd been here before. It didn't make sense, but he definitely seemed to know what he was doing. But she'd been the commanding officer instead of Mathis. There must be some rhyme or reason to this labyrinth. I was about to replace. apply when I heard something and looked up above. It sounded like a scream.

A second later, a body fell right past me, and I fumbled to get back against the wall. A moment later, we heard a loud thud. Getting to our feet, we ran down about five more floors of stairs to see that the analyst had been hired to keep us alive was not the first victim of this maze. I looked above us in an infinite stairwell. Do you think it was that thing, and it's following us? I asked.

Carter pointed his weapon toward the corridor to the left. This one was narrow and cramped, leading to a second door which had marked on at a word that looked like it was Latin or something. Vincent whispered that it was called Theseus as he opened the door and we stepped into what looked like a control room of some kind. There were monitors everywhere, at least a hundred of them, maybe more. viewing all the different corridors and corners and floors of this interdimensional maze. And near the center, I saw another impossible monstrosity.

This one had to be at least 20 feet tall, judging from the angle of the camera. It was chained down on all sides, so it was difficult to be sure how large it was at full height. It looked like a mad science experiment gone wrong, with the flesh twisted and peeled, back all over its body, a mesh between a beast of the field and a man's lower torso. Its head was shaped like that of a bull with two bony, cracked horns curving towards the lighting fixtures as its cold, dead hazel eyes peered towards a camera. He was looking toward us as if aware of its captivity, thinking of its escape. This is why this place was built, Vincent told me. his voice hardly a whisper as we checked the other cameras.

There were more creatures that I couldn't describe properly on other floors, roaming freely and hunting for food, or maybe just hunting to kill. It occurred to me in these endless corridors. It was likely that nothing would be available for resources and the only thing keeping these beasts going was sheer rage. It may be a means of energy, like the lights. I thought as I looked away from the monitors.

I thought that Commander Roland told us his place was from another reality. I stepped into an alien world. Why does all this look like we're the ones that made it? I asked gesturing randomly towards the equipment. Because this is a containment facility. A voice said from the right side of the control room. It was the old man, Marsh. He was coming in, dragging the corpse of weather be here alongside him.

as I tried to explain to the others so many times These are wild genetic creations that have no idea what they are and where they belong in the circle of life This constant agony and nothingness that confines him here Only feed their anger and make them harder to control He said as he shut down the systems one by one I don't understand why our organization is doing this I said Marsh laughed

He told me I knew already Weaponizing these dimensional creatures And modifying them to be our slaves Would change the face of war forever When they created this liminal space It was meant for only one monster That horrid minotaur I saw chained in the core But the experiments have spread like cancer

And it's gotten out of control They'll never admit it But these things can't be contained here forever the maze is going to eventually implode. He said he'd seen what it can do firsthand. He passed me a picture of a younger woman who I guessed was his daughter. I take it that she was brought here. And that's why you come?

He told me how they turned this prison into a sacrificial pit. It's the only way to keep the creatures satisfied. They wander and moan and consume everything in the maze. and people like us, people cast aside like her, we're the bait. We are consumed by their greed. And then, as a result, the maze grows. My hands began to tremble as I passed a picture back to him, realizing what he was implying. I was told before I came here, I was sent here to die.

I thought that was just an exaggeration. but it was really a mission statement. They can't let these things loose in the real world, I whispered. And they can't kill them. Maintaining the maze and discovering what we can about them is the safest choice, but it comes at a cost. Feeding these beasts takes a lot of lives. More and more losing theirs what's ultimately a forgotten cause, I realized.

Vincent claimed it would never be enough. Listen to yourself. We can't just go home either. We don't even know how. We need to find a way to kill these things. Marsh, you said the prison could collapse. Can we do that and eliminate the threats inside? He rubbed his beard thoughtfully as we marched out of the control room and nodded, saying.

It'll take a little bit of time to get in position. There's a way. I've been there before. But I won't be doing anything until I found me. my daughter. I nodded, checking what little equipment we had left. Then we should move together from now on, I said, 1600 hours. I don't think I should log the time anymore as become a constant threat to my sanity.

I know we've been here longer than I'm recording. Yet the markers from my journal keep me tethered to what I once understood as reality. The endless blank hallways have stretched out. on and on, as Vincent and Marsh and I keep searching for the last survivor of our group, our commanding officer, along with the daughter he lost, that my doubt is even alive. I say that because of the creatures we've seen here in this hellhole, and Marsh has become more and more lost as time goes on. His earlier ramblings about knowing a way to stop these monsters seems like a faint memory now

as I pull Carter to the side and mutter, how long are we going to let this old man keep us wandering? We've no idea what part of this dimensional prison we're in. Carter's eyes were bloodshot and his lips were dry. Another reminder that we were out of time. We had no resources left and our energy was scarce at best. Maybe we can find a way back to that command center. Find an exit, he asked.

Coming to terms to the fact that our search for Roland seemed useless. Before I could speak, I heard Marsh Hollow for us. It was a cry of distress. Despite her misgivings about the man, we dashed where he was at in another large empty chamber, and as soon as I saw it would have made him scream, I felt numb.

Prolin, or what was left of him, was on display in the center of the room. His body was displaced apart every which way, could imagine. Naked and dripping blood as it was held together by what looked like long black chains. Suddenly, I realized where we were. This was the center of the maze where earlier we had seen the strange bull-like beast, the minotaur, as Marsha called it. But his story was now falling apart. He claimed this was another mad experiment that had failed, that that was what we'd seen. Yet now we were viewing it for ourselves.

And all I saw was a torture, broken man. And yet his organs seemed to have life in them as a strange energy pulsed amid the chains. We are the experiment. Fed into the machine to face these beasts and eventually becoming them, I realized. I heard tricks coming from the nearby corridor and realized that the beasts we had been chased by earlier were likely coming here soon to harvest what was after Roland. Marsh fell to his knees, defeated and frustrated as he screamed and punched the blood-soaked floor. I knew he was thinking of the daughter he sacrificed everything for. Then I turned to Vincent, who was cocking his gun and aiming at his own mouth, tears streaming down his face. This isn't

how I wanted it to end. I'd rather be dead than he was for this freak show, he whispered with a raspy voice. I screamed for him to stop, but it was too late. The echoes of the bullet smashing through his skull alerted the creatures to my location I had hugged at Marsh, urging him to stand, go without me. My children want me here. He insisted as he pushed me away. I didn't have time to argue

as the different shambling beasts were already in the core. So I ran to the left. Time unknown. How long is it been? since then, and have somehow survived, perhaps it's in days or a few months. I wait for others to arrive as I wander this place, forced to feed off the men that are left behind and use their carcasses as shelter and security. The creatures are beginning to treat me as part of the mace and give me my own territory.

A backroom of sorts that I can wander and scribble on the walls would, I wish. This is where I've begun to dry warnings in my own experience of my time here. Using the long fingernails and rudimentary bones I have left from our grotesque meals, to which I can remind myself of how I once was human too. Think I walk like a man. But I can no longer claim to understand the world beyond the maze. Here, thanks to the endless cycles of time, I can become a god. This is likely what the experiment was meant for anyone.

And although the creatures have seen are bizarre, I have seen how beautiful they can be. How can something so amazing and full of life be a nightmare? I returned to the command center and saw a marsh on the camera not long ago, wandering a different part of the maze. His skin is all but gone now, and he walks like a shadow with a limb. He continues to suit for something that's long gone, or perhaps it may not even be here. Or is Epicund to lose track of time? I've understood there is no rhyme or reason to the flow of events here.

We are simply here. The present is always, and the past is always, and the future is always. I have found a place where Marsh claimed this place could be open to the rest of the world. I walk by it often to see who was there. Sometimes I think of escape, but I doubt the world would recognize me for what I am now. The other day I saw a woman, a girl. She seemed familiar. A distant memory from the life I could have had.

I killed her instantly and used her bone marrow to restore my own energy. Her eyes were dead and accusing. And I think she would agree it was better for her to end it here on the threshold than become part of the labyrinth. I think she might have been connected to me, or perhaps the old man. He is a part of the maze now, his body meshing with the walls and being absorbed. The same will happen to me. I do not know if I will return to the world beyond, although the way is open to me. I don't think anything is there for me waiting.

I do not think I belong there as I have lost my own sanity. I will wander these corridors, stripped of any memory of what was once human, and be the maze itself. Eventually, I will die and my body absorbed in the cycle repeat until one day, our world meets the one beyond these walls. End recording. File under data list test subject number 13. Mission considered a success minus the casualty of one Luciam Marsh. Continue process of creating new mutations.

Begin plans for next mission by end of month. Mission statement. To expand perimeters of dimensional gateway, to explore further details of new dimension and to determine the flow of time within. For your bonus episode, Creepy Presents, The Rain brings things in my house, written by Deadshot 300 and narrated by Nate DuFort. Life isn't always as we know it. We humans aren't the only ones in this vast universe. Other beings reside among us as well.

Sometimes we see them. Sometimes we don't. Have you ever seen a shadow by your window? Only to open it and find nothing outside? Maybe you heard a knock on your door at night, but opening the door, you see nothing outside. Maybe you heard your bed creak loudly, just to look and find your lazy dog still sleeping on the floor. Maybe you felt a tail brushing past your leg from under the sofa.

First think it was your cat, then realize you don't have one. And look under the sofa to find nothing. Nothing is a mean word. There's always something. I live in a town that you could almost call a village if it weren't for a few shopping malls and a multiplex. I can't tell you the name of this town or my name either for the sake of your own life.

The only thing I can tell you are these events. First I couldn't risk telling these events, but now it's pushing me over the edge. So, let's begin, shall we? The rain, when it falls, looks like stars, falling on the ground to reflect the night itself, like creation itself, sprinkling these dazzling stars, just as a finishing touch to its masterpiece. I loved the rain, now I hate it, even more than I did a few months ago. The rain brings things in my house.

Some are neutral, some are aggressive. It all started when I bought this house. Moved out of my childhood town, the town in which 24 years of my life was spent. Moved here, bought the only house available for sale. Big mistake. I was in the living room when it all first happened. A knock came on the front door. It was raining heavily, almost could be mistaken.

for a storm. I got to the door thinking it was the plumber I'd been requesting to fix my broken sink pipeline for three days. I opened the door. I screamed as I opened the door, fell on my back, and began tumbling my way backwards towards the bedroom, kicked the door shut and barricaded the door, then leaned against the wall, started sliding down until I hit the floor. Now I was sitting on the floor with my back pressed against the wall, both my arms wrapped around my knee. I began thinking about what I saw, a tall, lanky man, tall at an unnatural height, almost eleven feet tall, entering through the door by ducking. He was gray-colored, his face was absent of any features, and he was wet.

After a few hours, which felt like days, I heard the front door open and shut. I silently removed the barricade and risked to the door. to peek. For those who are thinking why I didn't call someone, my phone was left on my couch. Idiot? Yeah, I am. No one in the living room. I silently sneaked to the kitchen, picked a knife, and started searching the house. After triple checking all rooms, making sure no one was in the house, I was convinced I hallucinated. That was, until I saw muddy footprints. all over the floor. It started from the front door, went to all rooms one by one, before going back to the front door and vanishing. By saying vanishing, I mean, no footprints could be found

outside, like it vanished after getting out the front door. I started panicking and ran all over the house. After a few minutes, stopped my mad sprint and calm myself, or maybe I got exhausted, or maybe the pain of occasional getting hit on the head, whatever the reason I clean the footprints. After the cleaning, I thought of what it all was when my thoughts shot back to a bunch of cardboard boxes left by the previous owner in the basement. Maybe he left them on purpose.

Maybe he knew what he was dealing with. Maybe he left a clue in there so the next person would know what he's dealing with. So I went to the basement as I hadn't cleared the boxes yet. I know, I know, I'm a lazy guy. After hours of rummaging through the boxes, I found them empty. Shocked, I started tossing the boxes over the room, when I found a piece of paper, nailed in the wall behind the boxes.

It had something written on it. After reading it, I realized it wasn't any paper, but a torn page of a journal. I gently tore it from the nail, and tucked it in my pocket. It was written about how this house was built upon a bridgeway to other realms, about how things come and take shelter when it rains, not commonly, rarely so.

I come to know the two types of these things, neutral and aggressive. To clear your confusion, the tall thing was neutral. I have encountered them 28 times now, By now, I mean a whole year, told you they come rarely. Of 28 things, only seven were aggressives. The reason I'm telling this to you all is because of my most recent encounter. I almost grew accustomed to it. Neutrals weren't a problem.

The only problem I had were the muddy footprints. Well, the aggressives left footprints, too. They basically stalk the house until the rain stopped, but the aggressives weren't so nice. I was on alert when it wasn't aggressive. Aggressives in the best case broke some plates, and in the worst case, threw me against the wall. They don't kill you if that makes you feel any better. My recent encounter was two days ago. I was watching the weather forecast as it was raining for one day and 13 hours straight

when a knock came on the front door. Praising myself for any aggressives, I opened the door but was met with brown eyes and black hair, a face that had all the human features. The face felt familiar. Searching my brain for the face, I remembered it's a friend from high school. He was smiling. I smiled, told him to come in, then after exchanging formalities, asked him if he'd like some coffee. He agreed walking my way to the kitchen.

I felt relieved as hadn't had a human guest in over a year. While making coffee, I was thinking hard about my memories with him. When the memories came gushing back like water, it was a sunny day. We used to play with the other kids from the neighborhood in an open field with a river not far from us, the river which my parents warned not to come too close to. He'd brought a new football. We were playing with it when I had intentionally kicked it too hard in the direction of the river, causing it to land in the water. We all thought for a moment before abandoning the idea of swimming across it. The current was too strong for us to swim through.

I'll do it, he said. He was always the adventurous type. We clearly denied the opinion, but he wouldn't listen. He went after that stupid football, not listening to the request of eight kids, almost his age. He strugglingly made it to the opposite side, pick the ball, and clutching it to his chest, started swimming back towards us. We told him to throw the ball towards us, but he didn't. Not all adventurous persons are smart.

Halfway through the river, his ball slipped. and he lost focus for one second. That was enough time for the current to break his posture and start dragging him away. He screamed for help, but before we could do anything, we heard a sickening crack. He'd hit his head on a rock. We could only watch helplessly as our muscles denied to move.

The last thing we saw was the ball. They never found his body. I was snapped back to reality by the sound of the mug breaking by falling from my hand. I shot a glance behind me, finding him grinning at me by the kitchen door. I looked behind his shoulder. Muddy footprints.

He had my only exit blocked. After my first few encounters with the aggressives, I knew better than to use knives against them, and this one was even different. So I used the only advantage of humanity over these things. Wits. With all my strength, I hurled myself towards him, and he did what I had expected.

He dodged me and stood aside. Though I hadn't planned on building so much momentum, which I certainly did, so I couldn't stop myself. It was now hurling at my own wall of the living room. Great. As I slammed into the concrete wall headfirst, dizziness took over me.

Trying to suppress that dizziness, I tried to stand up and fell. Realizing I couldn't stand, I started to crawl my way towards the bedroom. I couldn't move an inch. before something was holding my leg. I glanced backwards to see him holding my right leg glaring at me. With all the strength I had, if I had any at all,

I kicked on his face hard and to my surprise in shock, he stumbled and fell backwards. Without wasting a second, I made a mad dash for the bedroom or maybe a mad crawl. I still don't know what I did as adrenaline took over me. Just as I reached the bedroom, I swung back to close the door to see him running at me at an inhuman speed. In a swift motion, I swung the door shut and felt relieved for a second.

Until the door blew up. Is it only me or doesn't my relief last more than a second? I was launched from the ground and crashed into the wall above my bed again. I groaned as I fell on the bed and tried to sit up. Suddenly I was slowly levitating above the bed until I was mid-air, floating, in a standing position. The dizziness was in its final stage. Soon, I will be unconscious.

I realized he was screaming something. I weakly opened my eyes to see him standing in front of the bed, glaring at me. I couldn't make out what he was saying. He was sounding like someone talking underwater. either my ears were ringing or he sounded like that, I don't know. Finally, I could make out the words, You killed me. He then positioned his hands in front of him,

positioning his hands like he was pressing someone's neck, and at the same time I felt hands on both sides of my neck. The invisible hands started getting tighter and tighter. Now I was gasping for breath, kicking the air, and as both my hands were trying to find the hands around my neck, Tears started rolling down my eyes, and a small stream of blood was pouring out of the portion where I hit my head on the wall earlier. Now he was repeatedly screaming, you killed me! You killed me!

Right after, his skin started to decay until his skin was black, barely clinging on his bones, and his head revealed a smashed skull. No! was the only thing I could choke out, before my vision started. started tunneling. When I was almost losing consciousness, the pressure was released. I dropped on my bed. After a few moments of gasping and heavy breaths, I came back to my senses and realized the rain had stopped. After minutes of groaning and rolling, I came to know I had a dislocated left shoulder, a seriously bruised neck, and a cracked skull.

After limping my way to the living room, a chill ran down my spine. My bedroom door was broken to bits and a crack formed on the wall where I hurled into, but none of them were the source of the chill. In the middle of my living room, on the center of the suddenly wet floor lay a bloodied football. 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. No portion of this podcast.

may be rebroadcast or otherwise distributed without the express written consent of the creepy podcast production team and the story's author.