Creepy - The Harbinger Experiment

Episode Date: August 6, 2017

Here's how it happened...***Credited to Zyon J ***Presented by Pulp-Pourri Theatre (https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/pulp-pourri-theatre-audio-drama/id1122370231?mt=2)***Sound design by Zach Fortais-Gomm***Additional music: "Snowdrop", "Night of Chaos", "Long Note Two", "Ossuary 6 - Air", "Port Horizon", and "Ossuary 2 - Turn" by Kevin MacLeod***Narrated by Joe Stofko***Intro/Outro 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.

This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastures and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened, or our simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. listener discretion is advised. The Harbinger experiment. The world we live in is full of things we don't understand. Being the curious humans that we are, we naturally try and seek these things out.

Doing so has led us to remarkable discoveries and inventions that we never could have imagined 100 years ago. We have defeated disease, built to the sky itself, and even created machines that could take us beyond the clouds and into the stars. If our ancestors could see us in what we've created, I'm sure many of them would see us as gods. Our innate curiosity and lust for knowledge has not always led us to greatness, however. True evil and darkness have also been uncovered in humanity's conquest of knowledge. I fear this evil will be our doom. I do not say this from a standpoint of a great philosopher who sat and simply pondered things either. No.

I say this because I have seen it, experienced it, I was a part of it. The event I'm about to relay to you is true in its entirety. This, I swear. I feel certain that this will fall on deaf ears and many of you will believe this to be just another spooky story meant to give you cheap thrills. But I promise you that this is neither my intent nor my purpose. The purpose of this story is to simply warn you of what lurks beyond the veil of what we can see and understand, to show you what awaits us in the darkness, even if I myself

don't understand it. What I'm about to tell you has happened, and I feel certain it will happen again. In 1971, a not-so-well-known scientist began preparations for an extremely secretive project known simply as the Harbinger experiment. I would like to keep the identity of the scientist's secret for personal reasons, so throughout this recounting, I'll refer to him as Zimmerman. Zimmerman's background is unclear at best beyond 1971. All that is known about him before that time is that he'd grown up somewhere in Maryland with a strange fascination of occult and supernatural.

This later made him an outcast among his fellow scientists due to how scoffed upon the metaphysical was and still is, at the time. Zimmerman's opinions concerning the otherworldly were not the sole cause of him being an outcast, though. This is methods that made him widely unaccepted by his peers. Zimmerman was well known during this time for being ruthless and cold beyond measure. He never cared about the means. All that mattered to him was results. And if he predicted the results to be valuable enough, anything would be worth obtaining them.

It was this insatiable and brutal lust for truth that made him feared among those who knew him. and the few that knew him and did not fear him believed in him and followed him and his work closely. The word Harbinger itself has such a mysterious and intimidating taste to it. Maybe it's the way it rolls from our tongues, or maybe it's simply due to its association with the project. But the world always seems to carry a certain one of doom with it, which would make sense. The word itself means to warn or forebode. I can't imagine Zimmerman's reason. and forgiving the experiment's title, but, in retrospect, it fits perfectly.

Zimmerman came to a select few, me being one of them. He told us he was working on something big, and that he needed people who could keep confidentiality and not spread idle gossip of his work. While he did not fully trust some of us, he did know that we were professionals, and that for some reason or another, we were all in dire need of employment. I'd worked at a local clinic as a doctor, but I was caught stealing medication and was promptly fired. This left a very dark mark on my resume, so work was hard to find. I was also a native to Alaska and lived near where the experiment would take place,

so I guess you could say I was a convenient choice. As you can imagine, I jumped at the opportunity. It was hard not to when I saw the payout. Fifteen of us were hired in total. Some were colleagues of him that have been working for him for a while, some more maintenance workers and if you were hired as private security. I was the only medical professional to be hired. It is still a wonder to me how he even attained the funds necessary for the experiment.

I would not be wholly surprised if his financing was not entirely legal. But legal or not, I needed the money, and he was paying. Looking back, it's a decision I've come to regret. Zimmerman obtained his money, he used it to buy a relatively large plot of land deep in the frozen wilderness of Alaska. And upon that piece of land, Zimmerman, built a concrete structure, not dissimilar to a bunker, in fact. The sole difference being that its goal is to keep any potential damage contained within the

structure rather than keeping it out, as he put it. Most of the structure dug underneath the earth, which had the effect of making the underground complex seemed so much smaller than it really was from the outside, as would be expected. There was only one way of entering and leaving the underground structure, and it was via a ladder that led to a small, unassuming concrete building on the surface, which I will refer to from now on as the entrance building for convenience. To a network below. After everyone had gone to bed at night, the hatch that contained the ladder would be sealed off with a very large, thick metal lid. Zimmerman was strict about this. Located not too far away from the entrance building was a series of wooden cabins that would serve as a sleeping quarter.

for the staff that were men had hired. Compared to the entrance building standing on the surface, the underground system was massive. At the center of the complex was the control room. This is where all the facilities' electronics and such were linked to. This included security cameras, lights, and door controls. Consuls, monitors, and computers line the walls of this large central chamber. This is also where the latter in the entrance building connected to the underground complex.

connected to the control room were three doors. One led to a smaller room that served as the infirmary. Another door led to a break room and the last door led into the hallways. The hallways are where the complex began to feel extremely eerie. They were for some reason laid out an extremely confusing scheme that led in circles and to complete dead ends. These hallways made up the vast majority of the complex and it would be very easy to get lost in the maze if you're unfamiliar with the complex. But if you knew where you were going to be a lot of the complex. going, he would find yourself standing before one of three eight-by-eight-foot rooms before long.

Each room had a camera hooked up in one of the corners of the room, and all three of those cameras were connected to a corresponding monitor in the control room. Cameras were also scattered throughout the hallways so that whoever was watching their corresponding monitor could see anything they wanted to, when they wanted to. Thick metal doors stood at the entrance to each of the three eight-by-eight-foot rooms, and in order to open them, you'd have to enter a four-digit code into a panel located near the door. I remember when I first arrived at the complex How badly the hallways frightened me

I've always been claustrophobic you see Those hallways were so very narrow The noise or lack of noise Was also a tremendous source of fear for me in those bleak narrow hallways It was always so unnaturally silent as if the entire world it stopped moving. It really made you feel like you were trapped down there. Thankfully, though, I only rarely ventured into those hallways,

for I was the only medical professional in the facility, and I had virtually no reason to go into them. In the beginning, I found it so peculiar that Zimmerman would ask for a medical professional like me on the project like this, but by the time it was over, I understood why. The official purpose of the Harbinger experiment was to test and observe the effects of extended isolation on the human mind. This is what was listed on reports being sent out at least. But unbeknownst to all those who were not participating in the project, excluding the subjects, the true purpose was much...

Like I said before, Zerriman had always had an obsession with the occult and supernatural. He set to prove himself to those who did not believe in him. He wanted physical proof that the supernatural was a real phenomenon, and he wanted to be the first one to attain said proof. The true purpose of the Harbinger experiment was to find proof of the metaphysical, a world we could not see. The thought of doing this was naturally a tad bit daunting and even scary, but it was Zimmerman's method of doing so that was truly terrifying. Zimmerman believed that he'd be able to open a portal between one. worlds momentarily, allowing three random entities to cross over to our world, and each one of these beings would be trapped within one of three rooms. Zimmerman had the theory that any

entity would try and latch onto the nearest living thing that had the capacity for it. He wanted to use this technique to trap a spirit in a physical form by allowing it to enter a living being that had just been injected with a compound mixture of Zimmerman's creation. In theory, this compound would keep the entity from simply leaving whatever was attached to. The only way it would be able to leave a host who had been injected with a compound was through death. According to Zimmerman, the host would have to be something living, and with a will strong enough to survive the possession, one species that possesses the amount of war required for this.

Humans. Zimmerman had also done something to ensure that the entities would only enter the three rooms and that there would only be one entity in each room, though I cannot say I know exactly what he did. In fact, I know next to nothing when it comes to how Zimmerman managed to do what he did. He liked to keep his methodology a secret to his most trusted colleagues, most likely due to his paranoia that someone would steal his ideas and take credit for the success of said ideas. If I had known that this was a true purpose before I signed up, I may have reconsidered.

But Zimmerman decided not to tell us until we were all gathered at his fortress. Even if any of us wanted to leave, I doubt we would have been allowed to do so. The security team Zimmerman had hired was loyal to him and the payout. It is not likely that Zimmerman had given them the order to now allow anyone to leave. There were three different subjects included in the experiment. They were all native to Alaska and each one was lured into the project and to the belief they would be participating in a harmless study of the effect of isolation on the human mind, as I mentioned before.

Which is why none of the subjects objected when they realized they would be confined to one of the three rooms that I mentioned earlier. The first subject was a young man. He was apparently out of work and desperately needed the money that had been offered for participating in the study. The second was a woman. By looking at her, I could tell she was an addict of some sort. The third and final subject was an older man. A drifter, if I had to guess. One thing that they all had in common was that none of them had any family or friends left.

In short, no one would miss them, which is why they were chosen for the project. I am sorry, I wish I could supply more information about the subjects, but all of this has been drawn from memory and I was given little information on the three to begin with. The experiment did not officially begin until 1987, 16 years after its original announcement. I was eager to begin, so I packed up and headed out to the complex as soon as I could. I arrived at the compound a week before the subjects had even signed up, and a whole month before the project even began. I was not the first to arrive by any means. When I got there, Zimmerman and his colleagues and the security team had already arrived.

I suppose you could say I was among the people Zimmerman did not trust to arrive first. Everyone had arrived about a week before the experiment began. There was a noticeable rift between those who were there simply for the money, like me, and those who were followers of Zimmerman. On October 15, 1987, all the preparations were in place. The subjects had been sealed in their rooms. The cameras, lights, and speakers were fully operational, and all the staff members had settled in. The time had come for the experiment to officially begin.

Zimmerman asked everyone to report to the control room around 9 p.m., to witness the beginning of the experiment. He wanted everyone to be present when he proved that all his theories had been correct and that he was not just a madman. He wanted us all to see the fruits of his labor. When everyone had finally gathered in the large control rooms, and him had turned to us and simply said, Observe.

He then turned his back to us, leaned into the microphone that would project his voice through the three rooms. and then he began chanting in a strange language that I feel certain no one but Zimmerman could understand. We all observed the three large monitors on the wall, silently waiting for something to happen. The subjects all stood in their room, dumbstruck by Zimmerman's chanting, staring at the monitors with confused expressions on their faces. After about five minutes, I felt something awful. I cannot explain what exactly it was, but a horrible, The feeling of dread washed over me, riddling me with fear.

It was then that the ground actually began to shake subtly and the lights began to flicker. Zimmerman continued chanting into the microphone as if nothing was off or wrong while the subjects began dashing around their rooms screaming for help. Then suddenly the ground stopped shaking, and the monitor's image turned into static. The air began to have become very heavy as we all stared at the monitors. waiting for them to regain their image and show us what was happening or had happened in those three rooms. For a while, all was silent, but screaming. The screams of a woman going through unbearable pain and terror began to echo through the compound. The similar screams of men began to coincide with a woman's terrified screams,

and together they mixed into an awful symphony of pain and fear that beat mercilessly into our ears. Those of us who were here for the money began to give each other scared looks while those loyal to Zimmerman seemed completely unfazed. We wanted to leave and ever come back to this awful place, but we all knew deep down that Zimmerman would never allow that to happen. We were here for the long haul. There was no escape.

It was 10.13 p.m. when the screaming finally stopped. The monitors did yet to reveal to us what had occurred in those three rooms. As soon as the screaming ended, Zimmerman stood up and dismissed us all for the night, adding that we were all forbidden to come back into the compound until 10 a.m. tomorrow morning. Not like any of us wanted to. We all solemnly made our way out of the compound and towards the cabins and settled in for the night. I feel it's safe to say that not all of us slept well that night. Iowa is not one of them.

The following morning all the staff that arrived at the entrance of the building. We all stood inside exchanging tired and nervous looks as we waited for Zimmerman to arrive and open the hatch that concealed the ladder. I could see palpable fear in the eyes of some of us, while others did not seem to have even remotely been affected by what happened last night. Zimmerman showed up five minutes after ten, apologizing for his tardiness as he came through the door of the entrance building. He opened the hatch and, without any hesitation, began to sending the ladder downwards into the black abyss. he almost seemed enthusiastic. I was the first to follow behind Zimmerman's dark descent into the facility.

It seemed that the further I climbed down, the more the darkness closed in on me, as it was trying to swallow me whole. And as I climbed deeper, I couldn't help but feel that this place was different somehow. Well, before there was only the unsettling concrete hallways and rooms, now there was something else. Something made the eerieness feel so real and personified. I felt like a horrible and gruesome scene awaited us down there, but I continued climbing downward,

despite my fear and my hesitation. This was no longer just a spooky bunker. There was darkness and malevolence in the air. A true evil now lived here, and I could feel it. We all could. I finally felt my foot touch ground and let out a silent sigh of relief to be on solid ground. Almost as if on cue the light bulbs came alive, dousing the room in their warm and welcome light. Zimmerman must have turned on the power, I thought.

I allowed myself to take a couple of seconds to examine the control room. It was exactly as we left it the last night, for which I gave a silent and thankful prayer. It was almost as if nothing unusual had ever happened. I shook myself in my thoughts as I remembered the static-filled monitors from the night before. I let my eyes slowly make their way towards monitors on the wall, anticipating the grim and fearful scenes that would be on them. My attention was first grabbed by Monitor 1 and 3, which were still pure static. It would have been a small relief, but then the motionless image on Monitor 2 caught my eye.

Room 2 was entirely still and everything seemed entirely. untouched. I couldn't help a grasp as I noticed the only thing that was different. The woman lay in the center of a small concrete room. An expression of fear and terror was frozen into her gaunt face as she lay silent and lifeless on her back. Zimmerman's expression turned angry when he saw this. He ordered the second monitor be turned off and it was. We didn't ask why. It's not like any of us wanted to see the dreadful scene any longer. He also ordered that if the images in the monitors 1 and 3 did not return within the next two hours, the security team would be sent to investigate the rooms.

The security team nodded at hearing this. They made it seem as if they had no fear, but I could see it in their eyes. The subtly loud, tick-talk of the clock was the only sound that echoed through the control room while I stared at the monitors. An hour and 50 minutes had gone by, and static was still. still all that occupied Monitor 1 and 3. All of the other staff members were working except me. This was due to the fact that the project had been completely injury-free thus far. So, I essentially had nothing to do but wait for someone to hurt themselves.

Zimmerman, a couple of his colleagues and I were the only ones that occupied the room. They quietly chatted amongst each other on the other side of the room while I spent my time reading and pondering the situation I currently found myself in. I clearly made a mistake coming here. The corpse lying in room 2 was evidence enough of this, and God only knew what awaited us in rooms 1 and 3. My thoughts were soon interrupted as Monitor 3's image returned. The clear image now displayed on the screen made everyone's eyes noticeably widen.

What was displayed on the monitor was horrifying. A humanoid thing stood in the center of the room staring directly at the camera unmoving. It was wearing the jumpsuit that Subject 3 had been issued, but this clearly was not the same man that had entered the room. What caught my attention first was its eyes. They were solid black and twice the size of normal human eyes. They seemed so, so endless and so

cold. Its head had also grown with eyes in such symmetrical and unsettling manner. The being it also shed all of the hair it once had and even from the monitor I could see how unnaturally smooth and clear its skin was. It also seemingly grown in height and stature, which could be seen in the fact that the jumpsuit was now obviously far too small for its wearer. Its limbs are going especially long, its arms hung almost as low as the creature's knees. What we were looking out was in no way the same man we had sent inside. Fear. Fear was all I felt as I continued to stare into the monitors at the thing in the room, and my fear seemed to be shared by those around me, which made me feel kind of good.

It may sound awful, but it was a bit satisfying to see that Zimmerman and his colleagues could feel fear. too. But at the same time, it was worrying because this showed that this was not a part of Zimmerman's plan. Something had gone wrong. We all stared into the monitors at the thing despite our fears. It was almost as if we were in a trance. My already present fear began to grow and spread rapidly through my body as I became lost in the creature's eyes, trapped in its terrifyingly hypnotic gaze. After what felt like forever, I managed to break eye contact with a creature and divert my attention from the monitor, and when I did so, I felt my fear levels dropped considerably. After a short while, Zimmerman ordered his security team to make their way to the subject one's door,

just as he said he would do. The security team left without question, armed only with batons and pistols. I focused my attention on watching the men progress through the hallways to a subject one's room via the cameras. even through the not so high-quality cameras, it wasn't hard to tell that these men were afraid of what awaited them. Their heads were downcast as they walked. They did not possess the same confidence within them they did when this project began. They looked like scared boys being sent off to a terrible war.

Eventually they made it to the door. We had perfect vision of them at the door via the hallway camera. One of them said something through one of their walkie-talkies who made a motion towards the camera. In response, one of Zimmerman's colleagues buzzed the door open. The men already had their pistols out by the time the button was pushed. Slowly, the door began to open. We all watched eagerly as the men began to approach the door, guns aimed inside.

Suddenly, and without warning, there was a loud shriek. And as something bounded out of the room at the men, the monitor turned into static, Immediately we could hear screaming echoing down the halls followed shortly after by the distinct sound of gunshots. We could do nothing but wait. After a couple of minutes, the screaming gunshots stopped. We all waited and prayed, hoping that whatever bounded at them from the room would not be the one to return to the control room. After a couple more minutes, three of the men came back, carrying with him the corpse of the fourth. He had massive cuts covering his chest and his face was shredded.

You couldn't even tell who he was anymore or even that he was human. I was used to the gore, being a doctor and all, so I felt somewhat unfazed by the mass of shredded flesh and bloodied meat they carried with them. But many of the others went pale and vomited. The security team all wore emotionless expressions and eyes filled with terror. One of the men finally looked up at us. He stared at us for a while with those wide eyes of his. It's dead.

He finally managed to mutter in a shaken and scared voice. A couple hours went by. The dead man's name was Frank. He was buried outside in the cold Alaskan ground. Two of the men were unharmed, physically, at least. The third was alive, but only barely. His body was covered in bloody slashes and one of his eyes had been gouged out. I managed to stabilize him, but only just.

The other two men vaguely explained what happened. They claimed to have shot it over a dozen times before it fell dead, and then they emptied another dozen bullets into it just to be sure it was really dead. Only once it was dead did they come back. After tending to the wounded man, I went to investigate the monitors. As afraid as I was of seeing what those monitors may have held, I needed to see. Subject 3 was the only one left now, and I needed to see it to make sure the creatures. was still in his room. It seemed to be more like a jail cell than an ordinary room at this

point, though. Which was probably a good thing. The cameras displayed Subject One's room and the hallway outside it still displayed a static filled screen. No one was sent to repair them or investigate. We just had to hope that Subject 1 was, well, and truly dead. Monitor 3's image was exactly the same as I had left it. Subject 3 was still. Still staring directly into the camera at us. He was still in the exact same position, and if it were not for the small fan in the corner of the room, I would think I was looking at a still image. In fact, I felt relief at seeing this.

Relief that he was still in the room and had not escaped while no one was looking. After everything quieted down, I noticed something especially unusual. There was a range sound emanating from somewhere. At first it was barely noticeable. The only reason I heard it was because of how extremely quiet it was in the infirmary. But as time went by, it slowly began to increase in volume. After about an hour, it was loud enough that everyone else could hear it too, and after a couple more hours it volume had increased so much that we could determine what the noise

was. It was a song. One of the staff members identified it as Living in the Sunlight by Tiny Tim. his father loved this song and listened to it frequently. The song seemed to be on a loop and kept replaying itself. Although we were able to identify the noise, we remained unable to identify its source. We knew it wasn't coming from the speakers because we had turned them off. It seemed to be emitting from the walls themselves.

More time took by as we all began to become increasingly agitated by the song. I spent most of my time in the infirmary attending to Frank or in the control room. Fear hung in the air in the presence of unmistakable darkness and evil was no doubt its source. Subject 3 had still not moved. He had kept his unblinking gaze fixed on the camera the entire time. It always felt like he was staring directly at me, no matter where I was in the room. I think this effect was also felt by others due to the fact that they seemed to move around the room a lot and for seemingly no reason. After a few hours the song was so loud that people almost had to shout in order to communicate.

We'd been trying to find its source so that we could turn the song off, but it was to no avail. The source was completely unidentifiable. This added a level of extreme irritation to our already very present fear. It was around 8.30 that the ground itself began to shake once again, just as it had done the previous night. Panic began to. spread among my fellow employees and me as the shaking grew in intensity. During this, I had this sudden instinctual feeling to look over at subject three's monitor. It was gone.

Almost as if on cue, the power went out. Thankfully, the song did as well. Ever since the security team came back, panic had been solely building up among the staff, and Zimmerman was powerless to stop it. When those lights went out, the comfort of the comfort. projections that everyone had been trying to maintain left us, and the fear in all our hearts took over. The emergency back of lights kicked on shortly after the power went out, which I gave a silent, thankful prayer for. The lights were dim, but they still allowed me to see a lot,

and exceased us as many of my fellow staff members began screaming and rushing to the ladder in an attempt to escape. But too many were trying to use it at once, and no one was able to get very far on the ladder without someone else pulling them to the floor and taking their place. Zimmerman was shouting for everyone to calm down, but his dominating and intimidating personality had no effect here, and his demands fell upon death years. It was total chaos. It wasn't long until people actually started hurting each other in their desperate attempts to get up the ladder and out of this place.

I could only stand against the wall and wait for my opportunity to escape up the ladder. The screams were soon silences of familiar hum of that unsettling song began to rise in volume again, only much quicker this time. And this time it was clear that the noise was coming directly from the maze-like corridors. People stopped fighting and shouting as all our attention shifted to the door that led into the hallways. The song quickly got louder than it had ever been before, which forced many of us to cup our ears with our hands in an attempt to silence the noise. Then, suddenly, the song just completely stopped. Silence. That was all to fill the room as we all stared at the thick metal door in anticipation for what was coming.

It felt like ages had gone by, but in reality it was probably only seconds before the silence was broken. The door suddenly and violently burst open and the music started again louder than it had ever been before. The suddenness and volume of this caused many of us to recoil by falling to the ground and grabbing our ears in an attempt to block out the noise. I glanced up for just a second and in the doorway stood a tall, smooth skin figure with long limbs and eyes so dark and malevolent that you could clearly see them in the dim lighting. After I got my bearings, I looked upwards as the creature once again, just in time to see the thing pick up and rip Zimmerman in half in one fluid movement,

dousing the room and everyone in it with his blood, intestines, and organs. I was no stranger to gore, but the sight of this was too much for me to bear. I hunched over immediately after seeing this and vomited all over the cold, cement floor. That ladder is my only hope of survival, I thought to myself as I forced myself to a standing position. And as my eyes rose along with the rest of me, I could see the thing ripping and tearing through the people as they scattered in an attempt to escape it. It was distracted, and as awful as it sounds, this was my only chance to get up that ladder. I forced my legs to move towards a ladder trying to block out the terrified screams of my fellow

staff members and the unbearably loud music. I could hear gunshots coinciding with the screams and the terrible sounds of flesh being ripped apart somewhere in the mess of noise. I reached my hands outward and felt a wave of relief wash over me as my fingers came into contact with the hard metal rungs of the ladder. I gripped him and began to climb upwards as quickly as I could in my disoriented state, all the while praying that the monster would not see me and pull me off the ladder and back into the slaughter. It felt like at any moment I would feel one of its smooth hands

wrapped around my ankles and pull me to my death. Eventually made it to the top. There was no question in my mind I had to close the hatch and seal the thing down there even if it meant certain death for my colleagues. I could not allow that thing to escape. I gripped the thick metal lid and began to push with all my might in an attempt to seal the underground complex off. Despite how dense and sturdy it was, the lid was surprisingly easy to move and it did not take very much effort to push it over the hatch, even in my weakened state. In seconds, the hatch was completely covered by the dense metal lid. I collapsed on my side and began to vomit some more as exhaustion overtook me, and as I lay there, I realized something. Aside from my labored breaths,

the only thing I could hear was the faint echo of that sound from down below. I felt as though I would lose more of my sanity if I continued to lay there and listen to that song. So I once again forced myself to my feet and began to make my way to the wooden lodge I had stayed in the previous night. It was where I had left my baggage, and also where I had left the keys to my truck. Of the 15 staff members that took part in that forsaken experiment, I am the only one. who survived. I've never returned to that awful place where all of this happened, and I don't intend to. The project was very secretive, and Zimmerman was the only one who knew all the details of it. And, as far as I know, no one is aware of my involvement aside from me.

In fact, I am probably the only one who knows what the Harbinger experiment truly was, let alone what actually happened. By now, you are probably wondering why I've told all of you about something none of you should be aware of. Maybe you're expecting me to give you a speech about not messing with things you don't understand or something along those lines. I hope not, for I have no speech to give or a lesson to impart. Almost immediately, I recognize the noise as a very haunting and familiar song. I didn't even try to trace it to its source.

I knew it would be pointless. And as a day progressed, the song has increased in volume. It's loud enough now that I can very clearly make out the lyrics. I am completely unable to escape Tiny Tim's voice. It has followed me everywhere I've gone. Subject 3 is coming for me, and I know my time left in this world is extremely limited now. I guess you could say I just wanted to tell the tale of the Harbinger experiment

before it was lost forever. I hope that you will take some lesson from what I've recounted to you, but I think we both know you won't. Let's be honest You don't believe a word of what I've just told you And I don't blame you I wouldn't believe me if I were you To you this is nothing more than something

To get your cheap thrills from You were probably mindlessly surfing the internet When you clicked a link and found yourself here Wherever here may be Listening to this story And to be honest I don't care if you believe me or not Even if you do it probably won't you from trying to uncover the truth of a darkness that few of us have ever seen.

It certainly never stopped Zimmerman. If you want a lesson, look at what happened to him when he was seeking the truth. I pray that none of you will ever discover this truth. I pray that none of you ever have to see the evil eye have seen. I hope you all get to live in ignorance of what lies beyond the veil of what we can understand. It's here now. I can feel its black eyes burning into me just as I could all those years ago. I am as much to blame a Zimmerman for the monstrosity that is now free to roam the world.

Even if I was not the one to create it. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. This episode of creepy was presented by Pulpary Theater. Chicago in 1959 is a city on the rise. The Cubs finish fifth in the National League. the White Sox Win the pennant, and even the Queen of England thinks were worth a visit, huh? On the flip side, the United States Commission on Civil Rights is calling Shy

the most residentially segregated large city in America. I guess that's true. I live in what's called Polish downtown, the largest and oldest Polish neighborhood in the windy city. My name is Yerzi Zinkiewicz, but call me Sink, okay? I'm a cop. I'm a big guy, and I don't use my gun. as much as I use my fists or just my size to bring guys in. Today I'm after a guy from my neighborhood, Johnny Yank.

When he was a kid, he was Yanni Yankowski. We grew up together, but then we grew apart. He became a pretty bad guy. And his talk that he stole my girl. For the life of me, I can't figure out which of those things is bothering me more. Don't miss The Bird and the Snake, Episode 10 of Pope Rope. Theatres fourth season, coming soon to your favorite podcast provider. 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. Stories told on this podcast can be found at creepypastorwikia.com. Are protected by a creative podcast. Commons license. Some rights reserved.