Creepy - The Holders 115-119

Episode Date: June 8, 2024

115. The Holder of Pestilence***116. The Holder of Guilt***117. The Holder of the Syzygy***118. The Holder of Joy***119. The Holder of Cowardice***Stories can be found at: https://theholderseries.wordpress.com/***Sound design by: Samii Taylor***Music credits: Creepy Dark Background Music by Fred Carpita, High Atop the Tower by ErikMMusic, The House in the middle of nowhere and It's In The Fog by Darren Curtis, The Misty Mountains by Alexander Nakarada Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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 depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Creepy presents. The Holders series.

Number 115. The holder of pestilence. In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself, the holder of pestilence. At this point, The worker should gag and try not to vomit. After several minutes of this, the worker will finally give in, vomiting into a waste paper basket. They will then stand and lead you down the hallway.

You will reach a door slightly ajar, but you must not touch it. To do so would invite its curse into your bones and your fate would be sealed. Instead, demand that the worker will be. open it for you. Pass quickly through the door. The holder is waiting. You will find yourself in a darkened room. The door behind you will slam shut again. To touch it would be to invite the rot. Instead, walk ahead in the dark until you reach what feels like a stone altar. Reach over until you find a groove. At this point, you must Think only of home and your friends and the people you love, as something cold and wet will slide momentarily over your face.

After the deathly embrace is over, you will find the groove has split open, and the altar now reveals a staircase. Descend it, taking care not to trip. The holder wouldn't want you damaged before you meet. Finally, at the bottom of the stairs, it is vital that you don't step off the final step. Instead, look as hard as you can until you see footsteps cleared amongst... Look as hard as you can until you see footsteps cleared among the icker and rot coating the floor. Step only in these as to touch the rot is to join it. As you make your way forward, you will...

will finally come to a stone sarcophagus. Few people realize this, but the word sarcophagus means eater of flesh, and this is exactly what this coffin is. You must raise the stone lid and lower yourself into it. Hold still. It's sleeping. After a few moments, the room will be lit, ambient light slowly filling the room. You must remain still. If it wakes, all is lost. After the room is lit to its brightest, you will hear a tapping noise like someone is walking into the room.

However, you will be unable to hear them. As the footsteps get near and near, you will hear a rasping voice speaking in an unknown language. At this point, most seekers will find it important not to focus on the words. As they tell of truths, mortals cannot comprehend. Finally, the speaker is silent. The base of the sarcophagus will raise, and it is now safe to move. The holder is standing here.

His skin is gangrenous and blackened, and his eyes are sunkened. He will speak to you in your native language and ask you a series of questions about yourself. Answer truthfully and your mind will remain intact. The holder will ask you to hold out your left hand. He will reach out and place something cold into your palm and close your hand over it. For his ravaged appearance, the holder is not an evil being and wishes you luck. The door is now behind you. Passing through it will bring you back to the institution through which you passed.

The jewel in your hand is object 115 of 538. Number 116. The holder of guilt. In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, asked to visit someone who calls herself the holder of guilt. Before the worker can answer, shut your eyes tightly and clench your jaw. Count to exactly 20, then open your eyes.

You should find yourself on an unassuming dirt footpath in a moderately wooded area. If you are in any other location, then you miscounted the seconds and have only minutes. live. If you are on the dirt path, then walk along. You should feel at all times an eddy of wind playing against your ear. Should you ever stop feeling it, quickly stand still and shout into the foliage. I freely admit it was my fault! If the little Eddie of Wind does not return, then I suggest you make yourself comfortable and arm yourself, as these woods are now you. your home for all eternity, and they are filled to bursting with hidden creatures from the lowest pits of damnation, all eager to messily devour you. If the wind does return, then continue along

the path as normal. After a long while you should find a battered little shanty, knock twice before entering. Failing to knock properly beforehand results in a punishment that cannot be adequately described in any human tongue. Upon entering the shanty, you will find yourself in a clean little kitchen. Quickly shut the door behind you and remain standing. Head bowed respectfully, where you entered. Fervently working the kitchen will be a woman who never turns to face you as she goes about her endless task of working on a meal that will never be finished.

If you pay attention, you will notice. that she works to an exact rhythm. But this is not terribly important. Just an interesting detail. There's only one question to which this woman will respond. Why is it their fate to be used for wrong? Give her a moment. It will take a while before she gets around to answering.

When she does, she will recount in your mother's voice, even if you've never heard your mother's voice. and in explicit detail, every wrong you have ever visited upon others, no matter how trivial, no matter if it was intentional or unintentional, no matter how shameless, unrepentant, or vile a person you are, or even if your wrongdoings are few or barely extant, you will feel the weight of your wrongdoing pressing down on you. Remain standing in your respectful pose even as the weight of your wrong increases to undembourged unbearable levels.

If ever you falter, you will be crushed, doomed to remain a broken heap on the floor of this kitchen, listening to the woman repeat herself forever. Then again, that would mean you were never worthy of collecting all the objects in the first place. Once every wrong has been recited in excruciating detail, if you are still standing, the woman will ask you to retrieve an ingredient from a top cupboard. Go fetch it. Do not open any cupboard other than the one indicated,

and do not turn your head in a way that would allow you to see the woman's face. There are fates worse than what would happen if you do either, but the list is very short. The ingredient she's looking for is the only spice that has no label. Hand it to her in a way that prevents you from looking her in the face. then returned where you were standing earlier. Wait a while, and she will eventually offer a small sample of her cooking for you to eat. Walk over to her and accept it. Being careful not to put yourself in a position to see her face.

It is a sizable chunk of cooked beef. Thank her politely. Tell her you had a wonderful time visiting and will come back another day. then quietly leave via the door through which you came. You will find you have walked out of a supply closet in the mental institution. The food you acquired from the holder is no ordinary beef. It never rots, no matter how old it gets, and eating even a small bite of it will instantly heal all your wounds, no matter how grave.

It does this, however, by transferring said wounds to someone you care deeply about. out. Survival in the future of this quest will make eating this beef necessary at least a few times. That chunk of cooked beef is object 116 of 538. For 117, the holder of the Sisy. In any city, in any country, go to any warehouse or factory you can get yourself to. When you reach the receiving, desk, ask to claim the shipment for someone called the holder of the Cizogy. The secretary will not believe you in the slightest, but be resolute, and if necessary, ask to speak to the foreman. He will arrive in time, and will also mock you, saying he's never heard of such a

person. Be patient, and he will eventually consult the records, the color draining, from his face when he finds the name in his papers, he will then lead you on to the floor of the factory, but he will demand that you wear eye protection. You should have the eyes by now, and though it is not their true purpose, only they will suffice for this occasion. If you do not have the eyes, you will be wasting your time and your life. Put on the eyes before following him, the foreman will lead you to the oldest and furthest section of the factory. There will be seemingly endless rows of boxes and crates here, but do not break stride and do not examine the labels and destinations on any of them.

You will find them to be years, even decades old, with strange destinations and even stranger contents. But they are valueless in your quest. Instead, keep your eyes fixed on the same thing. the foreman, he will be eager to lose you around the next row of musty cardboard pallets. After what seems like a day's worth of walking down never-ending aisles, the foreman will stop before a single, massive crate. It is wooden, but does not appear to be made from individual planks. Instead, it looks as though carved from a single massive piece of the darkest wood imaginable,

almost black. Set into the box is a door. If the crate emits a high-pitched wine, a kind of buzzing noise, or seems to vibrate slightly, then you can breathe a quick sigh of relief that what is inside is still what you seek. But if the air by this box is filled with only silence or any other sound, then what you seek within has been destroyed, and you may now search the crates nearby for some instrument to end your life, for you have no hope of leaving this modern labyrinth. You will find the door unlocked.

You need not even knock before entering. You will then be standing in complete darkness. Only the eyes will reveal the true nature of the space you are now standing in. You will find yourself standing near the center of a massive web of rings, all centered around a small dais with a reclining chair, not done like a dentist's chair. The difference in function becomes terrifyingly apparent as you approach. The chair is surrounded by hundreds of scalples,

each on its own articulated arm, poised above the chair, strapped into the seat as a mannequin made of the same dark wood the crate was fabricated from. Where the face of the mannequin should be, however, is carved a divot like a bowl. use one of the scalples to cut yourself and add a few drops of your blood to this bowl. Immediately, the mannequin's body will turn from wood into flesh, and its appearance will be yours. You should stand back as the scalpels descend, making a frenzy of cuts on your doppelganger's body. You will hear your own screams.

The flesh that is sliced will be yours and not yours. At this moment, the rings will shift in the vast darkness around you, eventually ceasing in their alignment at some point. Some will remain frozen in the air above or below you, while many others will settle themselves in a neat row on the horizon. The number of marks on the mannequin use flesh is the number of objects you have gathered. The rings show your progress the same way. The mannequin you will curse and plead for you to stop the pain or end its suffering,

but you must coldly ask it, when will they align? The knot you will beg, plead, and grovel for mercy as the scalpels slowly start to descend, crying for you to stop it. But you must say nothing and must not look away. This time, the blades are you. will make 538 slices, all but flaying the mannequin yew to ribbons. The rings will now be aligned on the horizon, and a long light will land on the dais, showing you the way home.

Take from the ruined chest of the mannequin you a small leather bound book, then follow the light until you find yourself outside the factory once more. The star atlas you now hold is object 117. of 538. Now you have the knowledge of when they will align, though not the means to see them. 118, the holder of joy. In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to.

When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself, the holder of joy. The worker will shudder violently and ask that you reconsider. Insist gently and he will reluctantly relent. He will open a hatch on the ceiling above you and offer to boost you up through it. Accept his offer. Upon emerging from the hatch, you will find yourself in an old factory, similar to the old 18th century sweatshops of large American East Coast cities. It is dirty and dimly lit.

noise that the machines will be so loud you will find yourself incapable of thought, before you will be a long catwalk over the large factory floor filled with massive machines. Walk along that catwalk. Working the many hot, hellish and clattering machines are small children, though they are so weary and ragged you might mistake them for elderly people. In what little light there is, you can make out their filthy, pleading faces. full of desperation and a wish to be free from their endless torment. Just keep walking.

No mortal can help them, and should you attempt to do so, you will join them in their eternal and pointless labor. It will take a long time, but eventually you will reach a door to the foreman's office. Enter to find a plain gruff man built like a brick, who appears to be in his late 40s and is wearing a rather plain white button up shirt. Once he notices you, he will look up from whatever he was doing and regard you with a disgusted glare. With confidence, ask him one question. Can any joy come from it?

Once the question has been asked, the foreman will stand and leave the office. Follow him. You will both be on the catwalk once again. Whereupon he will shout to command to the child workers. what he says exactly will be lost in the din of machinery, but the child laborers will understand. The children will throw themselves into the machinery, altering the sound in horrible ways. You will clearly hear the bones snap and muscles rip as the children are torn and crushed by the machines, into which they unquestioningly threw themselves.

Throughout this nightmare spectacle, you will hear the holder's voice explain the true nature of joy and pain, though I will not write it here, for only the worthy may know it. Once all the child laborers have been thoroughly shredded by the hellish machinery, the foreman will tell you to go back to his office and wait for him there. Do as he says, and upon entering the office door you will find yourself in whatever place you most often sleep at night. on your bed or whatever a sleeping surface you use will be a plain white button-up shirt

just like the one the foreman wore this shirt will bestow a sense of familiarity and camaraderie with those you speak to that shirt is object one hundred and eighteen of five hundred and thirty eight one hundred and nineteen the holder of cowardice In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself, the holder of cowardice. As the last syllable leaves your lips, the worker will immediately and roughly grab the collar of your shirt. Let him. Do not resist. He will shout incoherently at you while shaking you angrily.

After some time of this, he will appear to calm down and let you go. He will beckon for you to walk down a staircase that was not there before. Walk down the stairs, even though they are impossibly dark. You will emerge in what appears to be a small garden. The worker will tell you to wait here and will then go back the way he came, leaving you alone in the garden. Wait in that garden. Feel free to stroll around at all you and.

like and make yourself comfortable. After a long while, hours, perhaps, two men will appear where you are not looking. One man is tall, brawny, and handsome in a proud, heroic way, and wears a suit of nightly armor. The other is a mouse of a man, scrawny, balding, near-sighted, lacking any kind of posture, lacking a chin, and is clad in a threadbare, brown suit. Once you've laid eyes on these two men, remain still and betray no movement as they stare at you. Eventually the knight will make a gesture that indicates you may speak. At this gesture, ask one question. If we stop now, what is the price? Once the question is asked, the scrawny man will suddenly tackle the knight with immense strength and proceed to rip him apart with savage ease

using just his bare hands. The knight, in spite of his heroic and powerful appearance, will be helpless against the fury of the scrawny man, who will first tear away the knight's breastplate, then rip into the night's body, splattering everything in the garden with blood and gore. When this happens, stand still and watch the entire meaningless slaughter. No matter how horrible the night's cries of pain and pleas for mercy,

Once the night has been thoroughly rent asunder. He was a large man, so this will take long time. Everything, the garden, the scrawny man, and you, will be soaked red with the night's blood. Then a young, beautiful girl, no older than seven years old, will appear. She is the knight's daughter. The blood-drenched scrawny man will gesture to her. He wants to kill her in the existence. exact same manner he killed the night.

Do it. Or else the scrawny man will consider you in league with the night, and you will be butchered next. Set about slaughtering and ripping apart the little girl with your bare hands as the scrony man wanted. The girl will not offer any physical resistance, though her crying and whimpering will be unbearable. As you commit this violent and senseless deed, the scrawny man will crouch to down next to you and whisper into your ear, telling you of every instance in human history where courage resulted in pain and death, and where cowardice only made matters worse.

He will explain an excruciating detail, the true consequences of courage and the true cost of cowardice. Once the little girl has been reduced to a lifeless red pulp by your own bare hands, A scrawny man will smile. He will pick up the dead knight's blood splattered breastplate and hand it to you. Then with a warm, friendly countenance gesture you to leave. Go through the door through which you came and make your way back to the institution. Once you've made it back, I suggest you find a way to clean yourself, your clothes and the breastplate,

as all are still coated thickly with the night's blood. The breastplate is object 119 of 538. 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. alike 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

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