Lighthouse Horror Podcast - A Kid In My Class Is A Paranormal Detective | Scary Stories

Episode Date: July 24, 2023

Tonight I'm going with him... Story from ChronicAwesome15 Make sure to check out more of their work at u/ChronicAwesome15   Original Post: A kid in my class is a 'paranormal detective'. : r/nosleep   Original YouTube link: A Kid In My Class Is A Paranormal Detective    For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Sound Effects: Freesound Zapsplat  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new scary stories, new true stories, and new creepypasta stories every day!

The kid sitting across from me looked like everyone else in my pre-calculus class. He had a mop of brown hair on his head and was wearing an ACDC shirt. He'd been assigned as my partner for a class project. I hadn't been looking forward to this. Historically speaking, I always end up doing most of the work on those. And then this kid, before he's even said a word to me, hands me a business card. This was a novelty unto itself, but then I took the thing and it said, said Nolan Beckett, Paranormal Detective.

The project can wait. So, I said, paranormal detective, does that require any qualifications? Only that you're willing to look for stuff in places that other people aren't. The kid said, he extended his hand. I'm Nolan, by the way. Yeah, I saw the card, I said. I took his hand and shook it. The name's Joseph.

I'm going to call you Joey. Nolan said, Please don't. Can I call you Joe, Dan? Let's go with that. And then Nolan just reached into his backpack and pulled out his pre-calculus notebook. And he starts to do research for our project like we didn't just have that conversation. Wait, we can't just leave it at that, I said.

You don't just tell someone you're a paranormal detective and then just end the conversation there. I do. Nolan said. What I've learned is that no one believed me except for the people who hire me. Hit me. I sent. Nolan sighed and closed his notebook. Okay.

Let me give you the short list of what I've done. I've shot a trooper with a shotgun at point-blank range. I have done pest control for a plane infested with Grimlins, and I burned down a possessed barn. I don't allow my face to betray any emotion. It was the greatest test of will I'd faced in my life. You don't believe me, Nolan said. I didn't say that. I replied, I can tell.

Look, if I told my story, you call me a liar. If I showed photos, you would say they can be faked. There's just no convincing regular people about what I do. Okay. So why hand me the best of me. business card. I'd like to see how people react. With most people, it's entertaining, but you were pretty boring. Nolan looked back down at his notebook, continuing to work. I didn't expect a kid who carries around business cards that say he's a paranormal detective to be so studious.

At this point, I faced a choice. I could leave this alone, complete the project, never talk to this guy again, and then maybe laugh about this episode. years later over some beers with some friends. Or... What if I were to tag along on one of your cases? I sent. Nolan looked up from his notebook. You're serious.

I nodded. No one has ever offered to do that before. Nolan grinned. And it just so happens. I am working a case right now. Nolan closed his notebook. I must warn you, though. If this case turns out like I think it will, things could get dangerous.

Dangerous is my middle name. I replied. I hardly doubt that, Nolan said. Later that day, I told my parents I was going to hang out with some friends, which wasn't far from the truth. I don't get out much, so they were happy that I was being social at all and didn't ask many questions. I think they would have stopped me if they knew who I was hanging out with. Nolan had given me an address in time to meet him at. As I pulled up to the address, I saw that it was a seemingly normal two-story suburban house.

In the driveway, there was a blue Chevy Tahoe. And then there was what I can only presume to be Nolan's car. It was a dirt-brown Lincoln Continental that looked like it was being held together with prayer. Duck tape was covering one of the windows and was holding the back bumper up. It was scratched in what must have been a dozen different places, and the windshield had two chips in it. Now, the reason I assumed it was Nolan's was because he was leaning up against it, looking at his phone. He looked up as I drove down the street towards the house, and he waved at me, with a huge smile on his face. I parked in the street and walked up to him.

Well, I'm here. Now what? Okay, now first take these, because we will need them. if what I think is happening here happens. Nolan reached into the backseat of his car through the open car window and pulled out some road flares. He handed me two and kept the other two for himself. And what is happening here? I asked.

Come on. I'll brief you inside. Me and Nolan sat down at the kitchen table inside the house. Nolan had apparently been given a spare key by the owner. Okay, so the owner of this place was hear noises in his basement. This was way louder than any rat or anything, and when he went down to investigate, he found this. Nolan pulled two Polaroid photos out of his pocket and put them on the table. One of the pictures was a hole in a concrete wall that looked like it was about two feet wide.

The other picture was of some kind of deep freezer. It was open, and the meat that had been stored. inside was strewn across the concrete floor. Now, he didn't think the cops would do anything with the case this weird, so he called me. So, uh, you got this thing solved? I asked. I think I do. If I'm right, then we just have to wait for the sun to set, and then we can kill whatever this thing is. Wait. Kill?

Yes, but trust me, if we don't get rid of this thing, then no one else is going to be able to. So, now we just wait? Yes. We waited for about an hour for the sun to set. Nolan raided the owner's fridge, but I just sat on the couch playing games on my phone. Eventually, the sun did set, and me and Nolan were standing in front of the basement door. Nolan turned to look at me. You sure you want that proof? I thought about it for a moment. And then I said, yeah, I've come too far now to not get a little proof. Nolan grinned. Dash the spirit.

Then he opened the basement door. The wooden steps descended into the darkness of the basement. There was a light switch to the left of the door. I tried flipping it, but it had no effect. That thing must have broken the lights. Nolan said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out of flashlight. shining it into the darkness. He began to descend the steps, and I followed him. We reached the

basement. There were cardboard boxes and crates piled high all around us, creating a maze. There, look, Nolan said. Nolan swung the flashlight to his left. I followed the beam, and there it was. The hole in the concrete. from the photo Nolan showed me. I walked over to it. Its edges and sides were rough, like the hole had been hurriedly made. What could make this? I said.

That's what we're here to find out. Suddenly, there was a skittering sound coming from behind all the boxes and crates. Nolan and I stopped and began looking all around us. Joel? Nolan said. Go, get your flare ready. Nolan took one of his flares and took off the cap, producing a bright red flame. I took one of my flares and struggled to do the same.

Suddenly, something dropped from the ceiling onto Nolan. He dropped his flare and flashlight. I looked up from my flare, and I saw something hunched over him. The thing picked him up and slammed him against the concrete wall. I grabbed the flashlight Nolan had dropped and pointed its beam at whatever had attacked him. It was bipedal, about six feet tall. It had seethrew skin. I could see its organs and veins, and I saw them throbbing as they did their job of keeping this thing alive. Its arms were longer than they should have been, and its hands had four claws that were a foot long each.

The claws almost looked like they were made out of bone or something like it. The thing turned to face me. It had huge eyes that were completely black and its teeth were long and sharp. As I pointed the flashlight at its face, the thing roared at me, revealing that it actually had row upon row of sharp teeth. This thing had Nolan pinned against the wall, and... I ran. I booked it for the stairs and was almost at the top when I heard. Joe!

I stopped. I couldn't leave Nolan down there, but what could I do? I turned back. The thing wasn't following me. Why? Then I remembered its eyes, all black. I remembered learning about that kind of thing in science class. some species of animals have developed eyes that are essentially all pupil to absorb as much light as possible.

That could be why it had roared at me when I shone the flashlight at it and why it had taken out Nolan who had a flare first. Suddenly, I had a plan. I started descending the stairs again. As I did, I finally got my flare working. When I reached the bottom, I saw that the thing still had Nolan. pinned against the wall. I looked at the floor. Nolan's flare was still burning. I grabbed it. Hey, ugly, I yelled out. The thing turned to face me again, and I saw it flinch from the light of the flares. Then I ran straight out of it. I sprinted right towards it, and before it could react,

I jabbed the flares into its eyes. The thing let out the most blood-curdling screech I'd ever heard, and then it ran towards the hole in the wall. It frantically crawled inside of it, and then it was gone before I could do so much as get another decent look at it. I looked at Nolan. He was slumped against the wall, taking deep breaths, but he was grinning like nothing was wrong. Well, Nolan said, do you believe me now? Yeah, yeah, I believed him. Only question was, what do I do now? Nolan sat on a chair in the kitchen. He held a Ziploc filled with ice to the back of his head,

where a lump was forming from when that, that monster slammed him into the concrete wall of the basement. I found it a miracle that the wound had only bled a little bit. At this rate, he'd be only left with a nasty bruise. I sat in a chair across the table from him, We were looking at each other, but not saying anything. An awkward silence hung in the air between us. I mean, what do you even say after something like that?

Apparently Nolan had the answer to that question. So, he said. Was that enough proof for you, Mr. Joseph? Yeah. Yeah, I'd say that was. Definitely enough proof for something, all right? What is great. Nolan clapped that.

hand that wasn't holding the Ziploc on his knee and stood up. So, I assume that means you're done with me and this whole supernatural business, yeah? I opened my mouth to respond, but then I paused. I'd already experienced something that would make most people question everything. I stabbed the two road flares into the eyes of a monster that had come straight out of the imagination of dudes like Lovecraft and Stephen King, wouldn't the smart thing to do beat a dip out now? And yet, nah, I said as I grinned, either because of the insanity of the situation, or my own cockiness. That seemed like light work. Nolan's face betrayed his confusion. He stood silent for a moment, seemingly processing what I

just said, and then he laughed. You're a strange one, Joe, he said. But strangeness is my business. So who am I to judge? So, what's next? I asked. Well, if you're up to it, there's another client I was hoping to help today. It'd be a shame if I had to cancel.

I called my parents and let them know that the hangout had turned into me crashing for the night in my friend's place. They seemed nervous at first, but they softened towards the idea and eventually agreed on me staying the night. It was a Friday after all, so I wouldn't have to wake up in the morning for anything. After our conversation, Nolan had me duct tape the Ziploc to the back of his head. When I'd pointed out that this would look terrible, Nolan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a beanie. Do you just carry that around? Yes, this kind of thing happened quite a lot.

After we'd done our best to conceal the Ziploc full of ice, we walked out of the house and to our cars. Wait, wait. Nolan said as we walked out. Can you help me get the car started? I paused for a moment and then decided asking as to why starting Nolan's car was a two-man job wouldn't hold a candle to the myriad of questions I could be asking him right now, so I just said, sure. Nolan instructed me to, to take a seat on the passenger side while he got into the driver's seat. Okay, so when the engine turns, I need you to stop on the red X." Nolan said,

I looked down, and sure enough, an X made with red tape was on the floor of the car. I raised my foot in preparation. Actually, it works better if you use both feet. Nolan said. I raised both my feet in preparation. Nolan turned the keys, and as the engine turned, I stomped down as hard as I could on the red X. The old Lincoln Continental roared to life, its engine making the whole car rumbled slightly. Thanks.

Nolan said. Getting that started is way easier with a second person. What do you do if you don't have a second person? I asked. Nolan pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the back seat. I turned to my head and laying a third. across the backseat was a wooden baseball bat. I got out of the Continental and got into my own car. Nolan pulled his land boat out of the driveway and went down the street, and I followed him

to the next case. We ended up driving out to a house that was a little ways into the country. It was a 30-minute drive from the ring road that went around our city, so there was nothing but fields all around us. Me and Nolan parked our cars in the dirt driveway. We had hopped out and walked up to the door. The house looked fairly normal. It was a one story that could have been plucked out of the suburbs we were just in. Nolan walked right up to the front door and knocked. The door was opened by an old man.

I mean, he was old, but not old, old. I would have put his age at somewhere around the early 60s. He had brown hair that was just beginning to gray on the side of his head, and he wore large black-rimmed glasses. He was smiling when he opened the door. Well, hello there. How can I help you two boys? Hello, sir.

My name is Nolan Beckett, and this is my associate, Joe. We understand you are facing a certain situation. The smile quickly faded from the man's face. Oh, so you're here about that. The man looked around as though someone would have seen us out in the middle of the country. Well, then, come in. The man stepped aside, and me and Nolan walked into the house. We sat on a couch in the man's living room.

The man walked in carrying drinks he'd gotten from the kitchen. I hope you two like soda, because it was either that or beer, the man said. He carried two Dr. Peppers and a Heineken in his hands. He handed me and Nolan the Dr. Peppers, and he kept the Heineken to himself. He sat in a recliner that sat beside the couch. Thank you, Sheriff. Nolan said. He cracked the tab on the Dr. Pepper and took a sip.

I just held mine in my hands. All right, so let me just start off with this. The man said. I was a doctor for about 40 years. I believe in science. In fact, a voice on the back of my head is telling me the two of you might be frauds looking to con some money out of an old man. No, no offense, Doc. But you should probably see a Doc if you're hearing voices.

Nolan said. He chuckled at his own joke. The man in me didn't laugh, though, so Nolan just took another sip from his Dr. Pepper. Like I was saying, the doctor continued. I believe in things like the scientific process, but there's no way to use science to explain what happened a couple nights ago. The doctor stood up and motioned for us to stand up as well. We stood up and followed him to the door to his backyard. He put his hand on the doorknob and then look to us. Just a fair warning. This is going to be a lot. The doctor swung open the door to a lot of dead chickens. And I mean a lot of dead chickens.

like an inordinate amount. The backyard was fairly large, but I could still see the barbed wire fence off in the distance. There was a chicken coop a short distance from the door, at least I assumed it was a chicken coop, because now it was mostly splinters. As I stated, there were also a lot of dead chickens. They were littering the yard, lying still, leaving only the wind to be heard. I started keeping a chicken coop out here. The doctor said,

Something to do in my old age, and now something has done all this. I was sleeping in bed a couple nights ago when I heard something that sounded like the devil himself tearing through my yard. Did you get a good look at what did it? I asked. You kidding?

It sounded like a bear was right outside my house. I wasn't going to go out there and deal with that. This seems like more a problem for animal control. Nolan said, See, I thought that, but then I noticed something. There's no blood, the doctor replied. What? I said, and I looked around the yard again, and sure enough, he was right. Despite the volume of dead animals, there wasn't a drop of blood anywhere in the yard.

The doctor walked over to a dead chicken and casually picked it up. He walked back over to us and parted some feathers near the chicken's neck to show its pink skin. Look, he said, there's just this bite mark. Me and Nolan looked, and sure enough, he was right. There was a series of punctures along its neck, but otherwise the chicken was unharmed. It's the same with all of them, the doctor said. I don't know any animal that attacks like this, and I got desperate for answers. That's when I called you.

Nolan put his hand to his chin, seeming to think for a moment. Did any of your chicken survive this? Any at all? He said. Yes, actually. One of them slipped through the fence, and then they came running back. Hold on a sec. The doctor walked back into the house. he emerged a few moments later, carrying a dog kennel.

He held it up so we could see the chicken inside. It didn't look like it had witnessed some brutal attack on its fellow chicken kind, but then again, it was a chicken. It probably didn't have much of a short-term memory. Great, because I'm going to need that chicken and kennel. Nolan said. What for? The doctor asked.

Nolan turned to me and grinned. End. Too set a trap. Night was beginning to fall as the doctor drove off into the distance. Nolan had convinced the doctor to leave the house for the night, while me and him conducted our investigation. Nolan had given the doctor his contact information as collateral, so if we just wrecked the place or stole anything, then the doctor could just call the cops on us.

After the doctor had driven off, Nolan opened the trunk of his Lincoln Continental. inside was a black suitcase. He took it out and then walked back into the house and I followed him. Nolan took a seat on the couch and I sat next to him. He popped open the briefcase and inside were several guns. Whoa, whoa, whoa, I said, scooting away from Nolan. Where'd you get those? Relax. Nolan said, These are just BB guns. Really, I powered BB guns, but BB guns nonetheless. Nolan picked up two guns that looked like Glockes, but with a way smaller muzzle. These bad boys are powered by CO2 cartridges.

He said, I can't get my hands on regular guns, but these are the next best thing. The BBs are silver, which is good since we're hunting a chubacabra. That's what you think did this. I thought those were just some urban legend, I said. Nolan turned to look at me, with a bemused look. Right. Sorry, I said. But how can you be so sure?

Well, let's take a look at the facts. Nolan said. The good doctor heard a large animal wreaking havoc in his own backyard. When he goes out there, all his chickens are dead, but there isn't a drop of blood anywhere. A chupacabra fits the bill perfectly. In fact, chupacabra translates to goat-sucker, because the first report indicated that it would simply drink the blood of livestock, including goats. Okay, I said, slowly catching on to what Nolan was really saying.

So you think that because this thing is technically a vampire, silver will hurt it? Not just hurt it, my dear Watson? Nolan said, as he put it, pulled the slide back on his BB Glock. Kirit it. The moon cast a pale glow over the country landscape as me and Nolan sat in some lawn chairs on the roof of the doctor's house.

Below us, the sole surviving chicken, which we were using as bait, and which Nolan had taken to calling Hoboken for some reason, was clucking away. We were each holding a BB Glock in our hands, drinking some Dr. Pepper's that the good doctor had left in his fridge. As we sat there sipping soda while waiting for an urban legend to show up to chow down on poor Hoboken, a question came to the front of my mind. How many of your cases

end with you killing something? What are you talking about? Nolan asked. Well, when we went to look at that basement, you seemed ready to frag whatever you found down there, and now here we are, not 24 hours later, waiting for some vampire dog to show up so we can waste it with airsoft guns. BB gunch. Nolan corrected. He was silent for a moment. Look, you saw how the doctor was acting. He said, Dude was mortified to even be talking to us. Most people don't want to admit when something truly strange like this has happened. They'd rather just ignore it, move on with their lives or that jazz. But the thing is, ignoring something doesn't mean that thing will go away.

If the doctor had contacted me, then this chupacabra would have moved on to the next poor guy's farm. So there's where I come in. I don't ignore the strange. I study. And if it's causing problems, I'd deal with it. Nolan gestured with his soda towards where Hoboken was clucking was clucking into the night. That's what I'm doing right now. What we're both doing right now?

I corrected. Nolan chuckled. Yeah, I guess I'm going to have to get used to saying that, partner. I grinned. I raised my soda. I'll drink to that. Nolan smiled. Same.

And with a tapping of two Dr. Pepper Cans, the Nolan Beckett and Joseph Garrett Paranormal Detective Agency was born. As we sat there drinking our sodas for the occasion and putting our phone numbers into each other's phones, because obviously you need to be able to contact your business partner, we're professionals after all. I realized something. Nolan, Hoboken stopped making noise, I said. Nolan turned to where the chicken should have been.

The kennel had been torn open, bits of plastic and metal were scattered. around the yard, but there was no blood. Shoot, we missed it, I said. Wait, Nolan said. He rose from his lawn chair. I hear something. I got up from my lawn chair, holding my BB Glock in my hand. I looked around, but I couldn't see anything, at least not anything, that looked like a vampire dog.

Then there was a sound. A low gravelly growl that made my blood turn to ice. I looked out to where Holboken's kennel had been. Two pure red eyes were staring back at me. The red eyes belonged to the biggest dog I'd ever seen. It was a little bigger than some wolves I'd seen at a nature preserve once, but this dog didn't have any fur. Its body looked emaciated, too, like it hadn't eaten in days.

It reminded me of an animal with mange. And then it growled again. And then it started to run towards the house. Shoot it! Nolan yelled. He took aim and started firing BBs at it. The gun only made a small thunk-funk sound as the CO2 propelled the BBs. I saw the Tupacabra actually flinch as some of the gun.

made impact, but I was frozen solid. I couldn't even aim my gun at the thing. And then it jumped with the most strength I'd ever seen in an animal. It cleared the house and it was going to collide with me. Its muzzle was open, revealing its sharp teeth. And then my survival instincts kicked in and my body moved on its own. Without even thinking about it, I dropped the gun and grab the lawnchair raising it as a shield between me and the beast. The chupacabra collided with the lawn chair, knocking me flat onto my back. I held the chair with both hands as the thing tried to bite and claw its way through the scraps of vinyl and tubes of metal, trying to get me. Over the gnashing and gnawing of the chupacabra, I heard the thunk-funk of Nolan's gun. I saw the beast flinch as

BBs embedded themselves into its side. The BBs cut through its flesh like a hot knife through butter, and smoke began to curl out of the entry holes. The beast winced, and I sensed an opportunity. Using all the strength I had, I pushed up with the lawn chair, pushing the beast off of me. I tossed the chair aside and quickly got back onto my feet, grabbing the Glock I dropped. Nolan walked up to stand at my side. You are right? He asked. I'll live, I replied.

Then we both turned to look at the monster. It stood on the roof in a position like it was ready to pounce at us. You ready to do in this? Nolan asked me. Yeah. Yeah, I am. We both took aim and began to pelt the thing with BBs. The creature began to take steps backwards towards the edge of the roof as we unloaded our silver ammunition.

Don't let up, Nolan yelled. Eventually, we pushed the thing to the edge of the roof. Its foot slipped as it tried to find more roof to back onto only to be greeted with empty air. The beast slipped and tumbled over the roof, yelping as it hit the ground. We heard a sharp crack. We stood on the edge of the roof and looked down. It looked like the thing had broken its neck on impact. Nolan sat down, feet hanging over the edge.

I sat next to him. Welcome to the life of a detective, partner. After the doctor returned in the morning, we explained the situation. The doctor did pay the rest of Nolan's fee since we had solved the case and dealt with a problem, but he dismissed the explanation of a chupacabra and insisted it was some kind of dog with a strange case of mange. Nolan didn't bother correcting him, and as the doctor laid out his explanation, I was reminded of what Nolan had said about people wanting to ignore the supernatural and strange. The power of denial can go a long way, I guess. We both drove

back into the city from the dock's house. I arrived at my house in the late house. Afternoon, my parents started to ask me about the hangout, and I informed them that I did indeed have some fun, but I really just wanted to nap right now. I walked upstairs and into my bedroom. I flopped onto my bed, and I closed my eyes. The fact that I hadn't slept for a day hit me all at once, and I felt myself drifting off into a wonderful abyss of unconsciousness. And then my phone proceeded to vibrate like mad. I dug it out of my pocket and looked at the notifications. Nolan was sending me text message after text message.

I opened my messaging app and looked at what Nolan had said. You ready to go, partner? I chuckled. I guess this is the life of a detective.