Creepy - The House Job

Episode Date: February 4, 2019

It was supposed to be a simple job...***Credited to Emeryy***Please consider supporting the podcast at Patreon.com/Creepypod or creepypod.com/support***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/creepypod***Produced by Steve Blizin, Puzzle Audio***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.

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These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. sense. The house job. Credited to Emery. I'll first tell you what I do for a living, as it will bring some understanding to my situation. I run my own business,

if you could call it that. I've thought of it more as a personal service. I break into the home or building of a client's choice, destroy or steal whatever they want, provide proof of the action, and then I get paid. Quite substantially, if I may add. My clients usually take the form of a middle-class man angered at their boss or a recently dumped individual

who wants revenge on their ex. Essentially, I do the work that one has the anger and desire to do, but doesn't have the actual nerve to do it themselves. It paid well, and it gave me some... interesting places to explore, so I've been quite content with the job. About a few weeks ago, I received a usual call from what I expected to be a usual job. The caller requested me to break into an abandoned house not too far from my area. He requested me to retrieve a few recordings of sorts.

VHS tapes, cassettes, DVDs, and it didn't matter. All he cared about was any that looked interesting, as he described. Despite the fact that information is important in my work, he didn't tell me anything that would be useful for the search. He wouldn't even tell me anything about himself, which almost maybe turned the job down, till he offered me an unusually large payment.

When the caller had mentioned abandoned home, I'd expected the location to be shed away from the local population, and generally safe to break into during the day. To my frustrated surprise, the place was in the middle of the damn street, right along a string of other apartments and surrounding buildings, most of which were populated. People on the sidewalks strolled past it, not acknowledging its derelict state, sometimes being taken aback by its derelict state. It came back after dark.

It was just how I wanted it to be. No pedestrians anywhere, and there are no lights on in the surrounding structures. It appeared to be an easy target. The home stood two stories, with a small attic at the highest point. It didn't look like the most enjoyable place to live, even before it had aged. The best word I can think of to describe its living quality would probably be confined. It appeared to only have a single life. window, which was on the attic level.

The front door, what I believed to be the only entrance, had an unnecessary amount of locks on it, all of which were now rusted away. It opened with a mere tap from my foot. I should probably state here that though I don't have nectophobia or anything of the sort, I enjoy completely dark, abandoned buildings as much as the next wandering man. By my first step into the house, I wanted the job done fast. What I'm saying is that I was not paying attention to specific details at the time, of both the home and what may have been there.

When I'd turned down my flashlight, the first room appeared entirely vacant of anything, as if it had been completely cleared after the departure of its residence. This is both good and bad in my situation. This meant that the room was free of obstacles, but also meant I'd need to search more of the home, which I wasn't excited to. There were other homes around, but I'd be fine if I at least kept in noise to a decent level. The place hardly had windows, after all. I'd gone up the stairs to find a similar area, an empty room with nothing that I was looking for.

This meant further worse news. I'd have to check the attic. Though I said I wasn't severely frightened by the dark, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a discomfort with tight places. The attic was accessed by a standard pull-down stairway on the ceiling of the second-story room. It took a couple of jerks to budge, but it came down without much resistance. Orange clouded dust covered my view for a few seconds, which made me realize how old the place really was.

Each step of the stairway creaked tremendously, to where it became more irritating than unnerving. The last step brought me inside the attic, which showed the only window in the house. A bit of moonlight shined down into the small room, which helped ease my tension by a near insignificant amount. Scanning the room, I'd finally caught eye if a few boxes in the corner. Three aged cardboard boxes, all packed with a number of large. old VHS tapes. No DVDs. Though the place was sold, I didn't expect to find any.

I was still in a rush to get out of there, so I didn't take much time looking through them. I didn't even pick out a few. I just grabbed the heaviest box and dragged it to the ladder. I didn't realize exactly how much was in the box until I dropped it to the floor, which made a rather loud crash that seemed impossible for its size. Some of the tapes were probably broken in the process, but I didn't stop. to check. I just wanted to be out of there. When I reached the bottom of the ladder, I didn't bother

putting it back up. This is where I first saw something strange. When picking the box back up, I saw a small red light in the corner of the room, like a sort of dot. It wasn't moving, but I still stormed at the stairs. I grew paranoid, so I didn't care to investigate what it was. I arrived at the top of the stairs and I observed something else. That the house had another level, which I assumed to be the basement. There's another stairway leading downwards. They can only be seen if one was actually looking down the stairs at the second level. At the bottom of this stairway was another faint but noticeable red dot.

I was carrying the heavy box of tape so I didn't have a hand to shine my flashlight on it or on the previous one. I tripped. I tripped and tumbled down the entire fucking stairway, all the way back down to the first floor. Should have broken my leg or my back in the process, but the box of tapes actually managed to break my fall in some sort of miraculous way. The VHS tapes scattered all across the bottom of the stairs, and I didn't want to take the time to retrieve them all.

I picked up the three tapes that were closest to me. My body hurt like hell, but I was more focused on the fact that I had just made noise similar to a damn police raid. I made it back to my car and then my home without issue. I woke up the next morning with aches all over, but I hadn't gotten caught, which was what I cared about. I called my client numerous times, and just as I had almost predicted, he never answered. The number he gave me

didn't even have an answering machine as if it had been disconnected. I was quite sure that this client was going to be a no-show which made me grow quite frustrated. Most of the time I'm able to steal other items during a raid so a client not giving payment was never a typical issue. However, there was hardly anything to even look at alone steal in that abandoned home.

So I was left empty-handed after all the frightful work I'd gone through. All I was left with was the tapes, which I decided to look at, just in case the client actually called back asking for what I obtained. I was surprised to find that I even still had a VHS player in my closet. Because the tapes had no forms of labels on them, I just played the first one on the stack of three. The first tape I played was just static for a few minutes. I was about to stop it when it actually did cut to a picture. There was a date in the lower left corner of the screen, which was August 2nd, 2010, displayed as 8-2-10.

It was footage of a small room, which was vacant of any furniture, and looked to be in degrading condition. The video appeared to be in form a night vision, so the room must have been dark. It was lifeless footage until a door, close to the camera, opened. A young woman walked through, and the door shut behind her as she walked in. She started yelling, Michael, Michael, it's me. Where are you? She turned around in circle, searching for someone.

There was a frantic, worried look of expression on her face. I'd assume that this Michael would be her son or other close person she was looking for. She waved her arms around in the dark before taking her phone out as a son. source of light. She walked to the end of the room and took a left to what was appearing to be a stairway. The footage went to static a few seconds later. Now, I had an idea of where this footage may have been taken, but I refused to believe it at the moment of watching the tape. I didn't want to watch another just for that reason, though for my own safety, I had to know if my paranoia was correct. The next tape started similar to the last.

Static for a few minutes, then it cut to the footage. It was footage of another empty room, which appeared to be in the same decaying state as the last. The footage also had a date in time, but it was March 14th, 2013. More than a year's difference. Someone came in from the small hallway leading into the room. This time it was an older man. He actually had a flashlight this time and looked to the roof. He pulled down a staircase that led to an attic.

This is where I flipped my shit. Those red lights. Those dots in the corners of the room, there were cameras. And they were rolling. The abandoned house was rigged with them, more than I probably even saw. I first believed it must have been some sort of police setup in which I immediately checked all my windows

to see if my home was surrounded. Thankfully found nothing. I went back to the tape, and the recording showed the man climbing up the ladder into the attic. He too looked as if he was looking for something or someone, but he never actually spoke. He also never shined his flashlight around the room, so I doubt even noticed the camera. A few seconds after he was in the attic, the footage ended. But I did notice something. Just moments before the footage ended, the camera moved, as if it was.

was picked up just at the last few seconds. I would immediately to the third and final tape. I wanted to know what else may have been looking at me in that house. This tape was viewing the stairway. It appeared zoomed in, like it was down another level,

but still focusing on the first to second floor. At the top of the stairs was the same man from the previous tape, with the same date of 3.1413. Since I dropped the tapes down the stairs when I collected them, I must have been lucky to grab two continuing tapes. The man in the footage appeared injured this time. He clutched his left arm, which revealed to have blood running from it when I look closely enough.

He stumbled with each step as he progressed down to the first floor. When he was just about at the bottom step, he fell. Probably out of exhaustion. At the top of the stairway stood. Something. It looked to be a person, about six feet tall, but not going to make any assumptions that it was human. They walked down to the man,

and then began to drag him by his injured arm. The man put up a little struggle, which led him being kicked in the head by the beat. It moved the man down the second staircase, the one I believe led to a form of basement. The figure was close enough to the camera where I could see its face, or at least what was covering it. It wore a mask, which looked to be an aged rag with holes cut for each eye and numerous tears everywhere else. The skin exposed by the tears was a dark, bloody gray, which led me to being more content that its face was covered.

The thing stared at the camera for a moment, with blurred yellow eyes that moved. myself even more uncomfortable. It then picked up the camera and turned it around to reveal a door at the bottom of the staircase and kicked the man inside of another room which appeared to be empty. The door was quickly shut once the man went in. Then the camera just viewed the door for the next few minutes. What was disturbing here, however, was the sounds. Behind the door there are many rapid scratching noise.

as if the walls were being scraped. The injured man inside the room began to scream and so did other voices. The other screams sounded inhuman, more animal-like than the screams of a person. The injured man's screams were quickly cut off after what sounded like the ripping of flesh and the snapping ligaments. I thought at first that the man stopped screaming, but then I realized it all sound had then cut off from the footage. The door to the room then opened, and inside the room were other creatures. They almost appeared human, but appeared very frail and gray, with no hairs on their heads or

anywhere on their body. Their spines were painfully visible and protruded from their bodies in an unnatural and excessive manner. The ones near the end of the room began to climb up the walls and under the ceiling. One of them began to turn around. but the footage ended and cut to static before its face could be revealed. Naturally, I was terrified by this. I'd just been inside that place, and I've been recorded in the same way.

I checked all my windows again and locked them. I stayed indoors for a few days, kept constant watch of if I was, well, being watched tapes, when I was sure that I hadn't left any sort of trail from my visit, to that house, I had begun to go out again. I occasionally took another job, but none that involved abandoned homes or structures. Not much more than two weeks ago, I'd received a package on my front door. I assumed this to be the payment from a recent client. This most would pay me by simply dropping off their part.

I opened it to find three VHS tapes, which appeared to be a new condition. They reached marked with a number, going from one to three. I played the tape marked with one first. It was footage of the same abandoned house as before. And it was the camera in the first empty room. A few minutes passed. Then somebody entered. It was a younger man who wore dark clothing as if you wanted to keep hidden.

It only took seconds to realize that this man was me. and that the tapes were of when I entered the home. I went straight to tape number two. The second tape was a recording of the staircase, with the camera planted near the door to the basement. It showed me stumbling out the hallway to the stairs with the box of tapes in both hands. I took a few steps down and then watched myself trip and fall,

except I didn't actually trip. A figure at the top of the stairs. Wearing the same reg on its head as the previous tapes had slightly shoved me. It wasn't enough force to where I could have felt in behind me, but enough to where I'd lost my balance with a box in my hands. The footage showed me jumped back with my feet with three tapes in hand and running off screen, which was when I ran out of the house.

The masked being only ran to the bottom of the staircase and watched me run. It then walked slowly down the second flight of stairs and looked into the camera for a few seconds. And then the footage ended. More fear than when I had watched the previous tape. And my paranoia of being followed became more severe. It took every fiber of courage in my body to keep watching. And I played the final tape.

This tape wasn't from inside the abandoned house. It was being held by someone. And it was taken from outside at a different location. The camera holder walked on a road for a few minutes until focusing the camera on a single house. The house was my house. And whoever, whatever was filming, let out a loud, sickening laugh.

Then the tape ended, paranoid. And with good reason. I'm not huddled in the center of a room all day. But I don't go out in public much anymore. Anytime I do, I feel like I see a masked figure out the corner of my eye. Perhaps it's just a fabrication of my mind, but I even sense it right next to me in some places. There will be a few days where I hear a knock on my door,

only to find a single tape on the doorstep. Each is very similar to the last. It's always footage of my own home, usually during the day, but other times at night. And with each tape, the camera. is closer. For more information including pictures

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