Creepy - The Giant at the Side of the Road

Episode Date: September 9, 2020

No one else can see him...***Content warning: domestic violence***Written by Darkly_Gathers***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/creepypod***Produced by Steve Blizin***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

This is the bloody disgusting podcast network. No. This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepypastas 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. affect the pictures of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised.

Creepy presents the giant at the side of the road. Written by Darkly Gathers and narrated by Danielle Hewitt and David Collins. Some people are scared of spiders. I get that. They're frightening-looking creatures. Some are afraid of snakes. I get that, too. Some of the dark, some of heights, some of scarecrows, some of exams.

But it's a little different for me. My entire life, I've been scared of the giant that watches from the side of the highway. He's always been there, as long as I can remember. and he's always frightened me. He's colossal. A still and silent monolith. I've never seen him move. But whenever my mom drove me somewhere far away,

he was watching. He still is, whenever I have to take a long drive. Far in the distance, beyond the road, shrouded in low-hanging clouds at the top of a hill, or on the side of a mountain. Towering up towards a sky as he soundlessly watches the lights of the cars flicker by along the highway. I don't know why I think of it as a he.

I guess it kind of has a male build. He has the rough shape of a human, a massive one. Whenever I see him, he always looks like he was formed from the materials of the ground on which he stands. Usually this means he's a titan of brown. and green, a rough and terrible extension of the wild grass hillside, a mountainous body of rock and dark earth. This is how he appeared in the earliest memory I have of him. I saw his gigantic silhouette appear in the distance, a monstrous shadow in the wet, gray mist of that cold, dark

evening. I remember wiping away the condensation on the car window to get a better look, staring. my heart pounding, my body a rush with the most basic of human instincts. An ancient and quietly powerful dread, the fear of the unknown. His eyes were glowing a soft green, like lamps through the enshrouding fog, looking back at me from afar. No one else can see him. I learn this pretty quickly. For my mother, my constant insistence in complete.

Pulsive, anxious questioning went from creative and charming to rude, frustrating and disturbing with significant speed. So I dropped it. No one else brings him up. No one mentions him. No one else stares out their window, cold and terrified as his form passes by in the wilderness beyond the road. I never know exactly when or where he's going to appear. But he always does. Whenever a trip warrants any significant period of time on a highway,

He'll be there, watching. I've never left the country. I'm only 21, to be fair. But when I was younger, my mom used to drive the two of us down south to visit relatives. It was a long drive and one I always spent in a shivering sense of deep discomfort. The edge of a panic. A tide that ebbed and flowed against my constitution. I never knew when the giant was going to appear.

The anticipation was always worse than his eventual appearance. But every time I saw him, every time I see him, when I catch that first glimpse, the feeling is always the exact same. The icy surge of adrenaline, the sharpening of my senses, and the dulling of any extraneous meanderings of my mind. There is only one present moment. me and the giant he's appeared to me in the desert before too as a tower of orange gold sandstone great clouds of dust swirling about his lower legs shimmering almost impeccably as the sun burns high in the sky he's appeared as a grim goliath of frosted rock in the mountains his rough crude barely human-like features weather-beaten and scarred by the swirl of the snowstorm and the biting hail. He never appears close to the road, so it's hard to tell for sure.

But sometimes his skin resembles the rough, dark bark of the surrounding trees. Clustered, perhaps, gathered around his knees, the deep forest green of the pine needles carrying up towards his chest. I saw him once, standing in the sea. He was a long way away that time. But he looked worn, a coastal stack. Standing stock, still as always. A dark, rough stone body that simultaneously boasted, a deep and incalculable strength,

a power beyond rational comprehension. And yet somehow, at the same time, seemed like it could collapse at any time and become lost in the frothing, churning sea below. Just another unremarkable heap of underwater rock and sand. But his eyes are always the same. Soft green. Glowing through the haze of the rain of the clouds. Looking back into mine.

My mom doesn't drive me around as much anymore. I don't live with her these days. My fiancé's been my driver for the last few years. I never learned to drive myself, you see. I'm too scared. The thought of driving alone down the road, The only person in the vehicle, as the giant watches me pass from up on high, it's too much. The thought alone makes me sweat.

I don't know what he wants, but I can't shake the knowing feeling that he wants me by myself. He's not a naturally good-tempered man, my fiancé. He gets angry easily. He didn't at first, but he does now. Nothing I say makes him happy And I try so hard But he provides He looks after me

I really should be more grateful So many women have it worse I haven't had a great deal of positive male role models growing up If I'm being honest My dad was a good man apparently But I never met him He was a construction worker Died on the job before I was born

in an accident. My mom never really recovered. The way she is now. She's all I've ever known. But my aunt tells me that she used to smile so much more. She used to make jokes. She used to laugh. But I digress.

I'm still with Colton, because men tend to scare me. And my fiancé's mood swings are bearable. If you can keep me safe from the others, safe from the unknown. He lashes out at me sometimes. He says things he doesn't mean. He hits me on occasion.

It's never pre-planned, though. You have to understand. It's never malicious. He just loses control. He sees red. It's a color he's been seeing in greater, more vibrant shades these last few months. I think the wedding is dressing.

him out. It stresses me out, too. Not that I'd ever let him know that, of course. That would only make things worse. We've been driving around a lot, scoping out potential venues. And they're all so far away. Every trip requires a long, troubling drive down some highway. A drive under the watchful eyes of the silent colossus. Colton has always known that long drives make me nervous. He thinks it's funny. He laughs at me. Makes fun. I've considered telling him the real reason, telling him about the giant. On more than one occasion, I've always decided against it. After all, what good would it do? He'd think I was mocking him. He'd get angry. So I stay quiet and adore the teasing. As long as he's here with me, as long as I'm not alone on my. As long as I'm not alone on

highway, then it's okay, not alone with the giant. Recently, however, Colton hasn't found my anxiety particularly funny. Under the pressure of the impending wedding, he's become certain that my unsettled state, my set jaw, my tremblings, my clenching and unclenching fingers, my furtive glances out the window, and my quiet, uncertain half-presence in conversation is down to him, to our upcoming marriage and our relationship. And this makes him resentful. And the resentment always gives way,

sooner rather than later, to bitter fury. Your stupid cunt, Rose! He barks, mid-rant, shooting me a quick, fiery stare before returning his eyes to the road. I say nothing. You don't even want to get married at all, do you? Huh.

You just want to lock your fucking claws into me and then divorce me. You want to take me for half my worth, don't you? Hey, I'm talking to you. I don't, Colton. I reply quietly. Watching the giant, hand steadily by. He's stood in the distance, amongst a series of low green hills. A flock of birds fly behind his head

In an intricate swooping formation You can't get me Monster beyond the road I think to it I don't know what you want But you won't have me today Not today Not today

Yes you do He screams Slamming his fist against the wheel He reaches over and grabs a handful of my hair Yanking me close I cry out in anguish. Everything I do. Everything I fucking do for you.

And for what? What the fuck do you do for me? You barely listen. I try to talk to you, to be constructive, and you treat me like a fucking afterthought. I'm sorry, Colton. Please. I whim quietly, as earnestly as I can.

I have to sound like I mean. or it just gets worse. He swears under his breath, shaking his head. But mercifully, he releases me, and I thank him. I try to touch his shoulder, but he shrugs me off.

I turn to look back out the windows. Trickles of condensation shake and run down the glass in little rivers. The giant watches. The wedding is next week. Colton's only gotten worse. It's the stress. Some of his handle it better than others. I can understand that. I have to wear long-sleeve shirts when I go out now. He's picked up a new habit.

When I frustrate him, he grips my forearm as hard as he can and twists. It usually just leaves a red mark that lasts a few days. Sometimes he breaks the blood vessels under the skin and bruises form. Brown, yellow, and purple. So I wear long sleeves. He's scarier now. It used to be bearable. I used to actually want to marry him once.

I still want to make him happy. That's what I've always wanted. But the thought of being trapped with him, forever. What if he doesn't get better? What if he only gets worse? What if the stress just keeps coming? But I push these treacherous thoughts aside. They'll do me no good now.

I'm in the car again. The passenger seat. Colton is driving. The world beyond the road is a picture of rain. Great loud sheets of it pouring through the haze. The low green mountains in the distance, mere shadows and shapes, amidst the thrall of the storm.

The rain impedes our progress. And we aren't going as fast as Colton would like. And this has put him in an unfortunate mood. I am. As always, on edge. The topic of conversation has staggered clumsily onto my necklace. No. He replies flatly, twitching.

Rage bristles below the surface. A vein in his neck throbs, then fades. It's an ugly-looking thing. And if I'm being honest, Rose, I've always kind of hated it. It doesn't fit the theme. The wedding's going to be in blue and white. Your necklace is green. I know.

I know it doesn't fit the theme. But my mother gave it to me. And I know it's not the prettiest looking thing in the world. But I still think it's sort of nice. It would mean a lot to me if... Did you hear me, Rose? He shouts. Shoveing me away as thunder rolls dangerously across the far sky.

Are you listening? You never fucking listen. I said no. No. You're not wearing that hideous thing. My lip trembles. I hate that this is the way my body reacts. But it is what it is.

I try to prevent my throat from closing up. A pitiful defense mechanism. It's my mom, Lloyd. Your mom is a stupid, selfish bitch. He mutters through his clenched teeth, flashing his lights at the car in front through the rain. Please, Colton, don't. Don't?

He repeats. Turning to look at me, spit flying from his lips. Did you say don't? How fucking dare you? You do not tell me what I can and cannot do, you ungrateful bitch. I try to calm him down. But he only gets worse. He puts his foot down on the accelerator and swerves angrily around the car in front,

honking the horn as he does so. And with a sharp push of the button on the door, the driver's side window rolls down. the sound of wind a sudden roar as rain lashes into the car he grabs my necklace and tears it from my neck in a swift movement hurling it out the vehicle and into the downpour no i cry out leaning across him

reaching out instinctively to try to grab it back when i'm too late he pushes me back and mutters something else under his breath how could you i say with voice raised I did not plan on this accusation. I couldn't help it. I know it was unwise that I shouldn't have, and I'll feel guilty about it later. But how could he?

How could he do something so heartless to his own fiancé? And he strikes me. He gives me a quick but heavy glance, loaded with disdain, and smacks me hard across the cheek and jaw with a full force of his hand. The pain comes in sharp, immediate heat that throbs across the side of my face. I turn away against my desperate will.

Start to sob ever so softly. My tears like the rain against the window. Colton raises his voice further still, above the hammering of the storm against the windscreen. You're not listening, Rose, for fuck's sake! Look what you made me do! If you don't stop crying, then I'm going to have to... But he stops mid-sentence. His words evaporate from his tongue into a gasp.

A noise that temporarily empties his lungs. A great streak of lightning cuts in jagged lines through the darkness of the sky ahead. And for a moment, all is illuminated in brilliant white light. The car's ahead. The highway. the mountains beyond and the giant he stands directly in front far away amongst the mountains but he is taller still a titan of rock eyes keen and glowing through the swirling fog and over the rolling clouds yet ever silent in the howl of the rain his sudden appearance makes me jump in horror his eyes once you see them are obvious i don't know how much

I missed him. But of course, I always see him eventually. Something curious happened next though. Something that has never happened before. Something I will think about for the rest of my life. What the fuck is that? And I turned to him. He's staring ahead, eyes wide, wider than I've ever seen them before.

His knuckles white on the wheel. mouth agape. Are you fucking seeing that? I follow his line of sight and look back to him, then back along his line of sight, then back to him again. I squeeze his arm with sun and panic. Seeing what, Colton? Say it. What is it? What can you see? I'm unable to keep myself from shaking as a deep and powerful fear courses through me. As the wind and the rain, batter malevolently, against the windows. That... That fucking...

Coulton licks his dry and cracked lips. That fucking giant! He whispers, and goosebumps ripple across my skin. I slam a hand to my mouth and look back to the Colossus. His glowing eyes. Two hate-filled searchlights in the darkness. This is it.

This is the end. He's coming for me. And the giant moves. Lightning crackles again across the sky. A heavy tide of thunder rolls over the mountains and down the highway. I can feel it crash against the car, shaking it. Colton crying out as he struggles with the wheel, and the giant slowly, painstakingly, lowers his head.

The noise, a deep, yet ethereal groan, lost amidst the thunder. his eyes flash and he starts to lift his arm to reach out his hand he's miles away miles and miles and miles but the sense that that giant could lean down

all the way down from the sky in stride toward us crushing the vehicle like a beetle in his grip or worse is very real palpable it's like the very mountain itself has singled us out

like it has directed the raging storm our way, and it is terrifying. Please! Colton is incomprehensible. He is babbling nonsense, whimpering and shouting intermittently, and he cannot take his eyes off the giant ahead, nor his foot from the pedal. The giant groans, and the rain cascades and the thunder ripples over the mountains. Colton! Colm! Look out!

The car is coming up to the back of a jam. Traffic in the storm. And Colton screams, yanking the wheel to the left, then changing his mind and hastily spinning it to the right. Lightning flashes for a third and final time, and the car careens off the road. The rain is a vortex around the vehicle as it spins, and the scene outside became a blur of gray and green.

I hear the sound of tearing metal and shattering glass. And the world goes black. It's been five months since then. I remember waking up the next morning in a hospital bed. Panicked, frightened by the glare of the overhead lights. Unsure of where I was or what had happened. Once I calmed down, they told me that Colton had been killed in the crash. Neck broken on impact.

I didn't feel a thing when they shared the news. I wasn't really sure how to feel. He was dead. Gone. just like that and I had gotten away with some nausea and a broken arm in the span of five months that followed

I did not see the giant again not once nowhere to be seen he had it seemed stopped appearing to me and so I decided to learn how to drive

I was pretty good as it happened a natural I knew I had to be a natural at something, and it seems that the something is driving. Who would have thought it? I passed my first time with flying colors. My mom found herself a half-decent job as of late, and she chipped in to help me buy my first car.

She was so proud. I'm driving it now. My first drive, actually. My first solo. Nerve-wracking, for sure. But I'm not going... particularly fast, an easy one. And I know exactly where I'm headed.

The evening sky tonight is purple. Whips of thin, horizon, orange cloud drift lazily behind the mountains. There are not many cars on the highway. I'm driving back to where we had the accident, and it isn't too long before I see him. The giant. He's not standing now. He's sitting, cross-legged and still. watching from the mountain side ahead.

I keep driving. I keep driving until I'm as close to the mountain as I can get. I find a road that branches off, though it's more of a dirt track, really. It clearly isn't maintained. I bring the car to a gentle stop and put it in park, stepping out the door and onto the wild grass beyond. And I walk.

I walk over the fields and away from the highway. My legs tire quickly on the uphill. incline, but I continue nonetheless. I climb the mountain with long, exhausting, but steady steps. And it's not so bad. It's more of a long, high hill than a mountain, really. Still high enough to be far, far above the highway, though. The cars below are little, but twinkling fireflies beneath a deep and indigo sky. I come to an eventual stop at the giant's outstretched hand. He's still sitting, cross-legged. But his arm stretches down to the ground.

His hand is open and palm upward facing. He's looking down at me now. I didn't notice any movement from his head. But our gaze is met as I look up at him. He is huge. So incredibly, impossibly, almost incomprehensibly massive. And yet, in the light of the setting sun, I realize that I don't know how I ever could have found him scary.

I touch a hand to one of his enormous fingers. He feels warm. The evening's light, before it fades, catches on something hung from a rock at his fingertip. A quick flash that draws my eye when I see it. I smile. It's my necklace. The one my mother gave me.

Glittering. I reach out and take it. and I crane my neck, looking back up to the giant's face. Thank you. And slowly, ever so slowly. The giant closes his bright and shining eyes, and I take my leave. It's time to let him rest. I haven't seen the giant since the day he returned my necklace.

Not sure if I ever will again. But I still feel like he's watching me. Watching over me, I guess. And I'm no longer afraid. For more information, including pictures and videos of the stories told on this podcast, or to suggest stories for future episodes, please visit us at creepypod on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook, or email us at creepypod. All stories told on this podcast can be found at creepypast.

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