Creepy - The Holder of Holders

Episode Date: December 19, 2017

They must never come together... ***Please consider supporting the podcast at Patreon.com/Creepypod or creepypod.com/support***Music composed 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 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 depictions of violence and explicit language. listener discretion is advised. The holder of holders. In any city, in any country, in the world, go to any mental institution or halfway house you have access to.

When you walk inside, ask the first person you see if they know the holder of holders. It matters not if this person appears to work at the institution or appears to be a civilian. If all expression falls from their face and they begin walking, staring straight ahead, never blinking, follow them. The person will lead you to a small dingy room. The only thing in the room will be a dusty wooden chair sitting in the exact middle of the room, facing away from the door. If you cannot handle what you are about to experience, leave now.

If you dare to proceed, walk in the room. The door will close and lock behind you. When you sit in the chair, all light and warmth will vanish from the room. You will be illuminated from an unseen light source. The chair and its occupant the only beacon of anything existing in this void. A chill will begin to build within you. Your extremities will freeze. As your blood turns to ice, you will feel the cold pumping through your veins.

If you try to escape, you will be forever lost in the void. If you manage to keep control, you'll eventually feel your cold blood invade your heart. You will see a cloaked figure shrouded and blurred by mist. As the icy terror continues to wallop inside you, resist the temptation to run. You must then ask the figure, Do you recognize me? The shade will respond with silence, peering into your very being with unseen eyes,

and you must ask again. Do you recognize me? If you are unlucky, the figure may respond with a shriek that will start quietly, but will quickly swell until it fills your ears. The definite cacophony is the sound of every living thing on the planet perishing instantly. The sound alone will drive you mad. However, your torment will continue as you are forced to live each death as if it were your own. If you are fortunate, the figure will respond with an icy, sounding like 10,000 snakes hissing

inside of your mind. You cannot escape the din. You cannot close your ears to the sound. It will envelop your soul. This is but a taste of what is to come. Should you retain your sanity, you will pass the first test, and may proceed. The shadow will hold up a cut, clear gemstone. While the figure will remain in shrouded and mist and blurred,

you will see the gemstone in perfect clarity, glowing with an internal light. You will hear a deep, dark voice say, brace yourself, and gaze into the stone as deep as you can. At one instant you will see everything. Hundreds of items flashing by, completely separate, time, all at once yet never at all. Ordeals. Tests of worthiness appearing simultaneously, yet each one separate.

Chaos. You will see figures walking into mental institutions and halfway houses throughout the world, each at a different time, each right now. They will be looking for you. You know why they have come. You know what they want. hold what they seek. At the same time, at the same instant, as this knowledge is forced into you in a fraction

of a second, you will also see a figure sitting on a dusty wooden chair, the only thing illuminated in a black void. The faceless figure, blurred and mist, will ask you, do you recognize me? You will not be able to answer. The figure will be obscured beyond recognition. The figure will ask again, Do you recognize me? And as it does so, the image will sharpen,

and you will be able to see a face. If the shock of the revelation is too much for you to handle, and if you cannot answer, you will find yourself torn apart in time, your soul spread across the planet. The vague bits of it remaining cohesive in mental institutions and halfway houses in terrifying bits of disconnected,

consciousness. If you haven't been driven mad yet, and if you can recognize yourself sitting in the chair, answer, yes. If you manage to retain your sanity throughout this ordeal, you will lose yourself in a flash of white. As the brightness encompassing you subsides, you will find yourself sitting in a dusty wooden chair, in the pitch-black room, gazing into a clear, flawless, floating gemstone. It is now too late. You have chosen to leave empty-handed. The moment you stand from the chair, all of the knowledge you witnessed will flood into your mind at once, driving you completely mad. If you simply touch the stone, you will release all of what you just witnessed, and you will meet the same fate. To survive, you must grab and forever hold the stone.

If you can manage to hold the stone tight, you may stand and walk away freely. Be warned, should you ever let go of the stone, all of what you have seen, all of the fates of those who have not made it as far as you, will be yours to savor for eternity. The knowledge of the holders is object 442 of 538. You know where they are. You know why they are. You know what will happen when they all come together.

You know the futility of trying to keep them apart. 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 creepypasta wikia.com and are protected by a creative commons license. Some rights reserved unless otherwise stated.