Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I Sell SPACE DEBRIS. I Found What NASA Was Hiding | Scary Stories

Episode Date: July 1, 2024

I found something... Story from Brian Maycock  Cover Art from Rachid Lotf Original Post: Recording found on 02 06 2022 : r/nosleep      Original YouTube link: I Sell SPACE DEBRIS. I Found What NASA Was Hiding   Merch: lighthousehorror.shop 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 episodes every week, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

In 1908, an asteroid exploded in the Earth's atmosphere, causing an air burst that took out 80 million trees across 830 square miles in Siberia. The Russians got it back again in 2013. When a 10,000-ton meteor exploded over the town of Chulia Binks, the windows of 3,000 buildings blew out, and 1,000 people were injured. While I queued to pay for gas the other day, I watched a news report on the time. an old TV, fixed precariously to the wall by the till, about how the International Space Station was due to come crashing down in 2013. The expert interviewed, said it would land safely

in the ocean. They would say that, muttered the man behind me. I ignored this. Tried not to think what I would do if my card was declined. Then the two most beautiful words in the English language showed in the machine, transaction approved. I loved. I lived to drive again another day. As I was walking out to the truck, my phone burst into life. I answered with a spring in my voice. Tom Jessup speaking. I recognized the sigh that followed straight away. Deborah Lynn. The love and bane of my life, still. Weren't divorces meant to cut ties and allow both parties to move on? Not in my case, it seemed. Hey, I said, a little less brightly now. There was a pause.

Like a bagpipe player, Deborah Lynn had to first draw in enough air, and then she could start to wail. I'd observe this enough times in the five years of our marriage, knew I was once more about to be on the receiving end. I cannot begin to tell you the problems Josh is causing me. She started. Josh was her latest squeeze, buddy, her hunk of meat. Both phrases trademark Deborah Lynn.

She'd lost count of how many men she'd hooked up with since she left me. I was pretty sure, though, that she'd tried complaining to me about most of them. Why was one of the universe's great unsolved mysteries? He came home drunk again last night and broke a window in his arm. He's lying there on the sofa now, moaning and saying he's too suffering to go to work. Who will pay the bills if he gets fired? That's what I asked him. was a crashing sound, and the chorus of swearing that came next, it sounded like she'd thrown

her phone at Josh. The line went dead. I silently vowed once again to change my number, then climbed into the truck and set off. The history-making, headline-grabbing events fascinated me, but they were not how I made my living. Over the past 50 years, more than 5,900 tons of space debris had surfaced re-entry into Earth's atmosphere. That's a ton of satellite junk. And around 17,000 meteors strike every year. This is where I came in. I spent my time scavenging for satellite parts and meteorites. I packaged them up real nice, and then I sold them. I had dozens of rare and beautiful things safely secured in the back of the truck. They were all genuine. 100%. I had certificates to prove it. Deborah Lynn claimed she left me because I was a loser. This was

not the case. I was a dreamer, an entrepreneur, an independent spirit, a traveling salesman who brought magic to people who didn't even know they needed it, and I was on the road again and hungry for success. After about an hour, I reached the outskirts of a small town which had clearly seen better days. The name of the place was obscured. by bullet holes, but I could just about make out Pop 1231 on the sign. Unless an infant appeared from between its mother's legs every time a new soul was committed to the earth, I guess that figure was no longer true. But maybe there would be one or two folk who would want to purchase a unique and priceless object that had traveled through the vastness of space, or the antenna from a top-secret

military satellite. Cash-only purchases and guaranteed authenticity. I pulled up outside a bar. A tired-looking dog sprawled outside looked up. I took a sample box containing some of my smaller treasures from the back of the truck, stepped over the dog, and went inside. The half-light was thick with smoke. A song on the jukebox fought through the gloom. There were tables scattered around the edges, plastic-covered menus lying on them. This wasn't a place to come to eat, though. It was a place to get drunk. There were half a dozen men sitting at the bar stooped over glasses doing just that. I joined him. The woman behind the bar had long blonde hair and tired eyes.

What do you be having? She asked. A bit of good fortune. I replied. She smiled. How many shots. I held out my hand. Tom Jessop, I said. And we shook. What brings you to these parts? She She asked. I'm a salesman on the road, I told her, looking for customers. I glanced along the bar at the line of drinkers, saw men who looked as though they'd had the life kicked out of them a long time ago, and thought, I'm wasting my time here. I guess my expression wasn't hard to read, because the barmaid said, Have a drink, then move on, would be my advice.

Thank you kindly, I said. What are the towns nearby like? Are there any you'd recommend I swing by?" She linked her fingers, rested her hands on her belly. There's a hole out of nothing round here, and our nearest neighbors are definitely not worth your while. They're good people, but they keep themselves completely to themselves. They don't believe in modern ways, don't have automobiles or televisions. I don't think they even have electricity. What's the Wi-Fi like? I asked with a grin. She laughed.

It was a gentle, heartwarming sound. They don't even have telephones, she added. If I'd been wearing a hat, I would have tipped it at her. As it was, I swung myself off the barstool, gave her a little salute, and said, Well, I'll be moving on. A trace of sadness showed in her eyes at this, and I hesitated for a moment. Should I stay? Maybe we could get together.

I thought again of Deborah Lynn. And I'd been on my own since she left me. And I didn't want to be anymore. I was standing there, caught between a past that still held me and a future where love had a place when the doors to the bar swung open. A young man walked in like he owned the place. Maybe he did, I thought. And maybe his snake-skin boots and the gold teeth glinting as he smiled in the direction

of the barmaid were the real deal. Real or fake. I could smell a sail heading my way. He had three buddies with him. They were flashy dressers as well, and ugly as sin. Gold tooth leaned on the bar. I smiled and began my pitch. You, sir, you look like a man who stands out from the commonplace, who succeeds at everything he does and knows his own mind. Well, I humbly propose that there is something missing from your gilded life. gap that needs filled. And, sir, this is your lucky day. I clicked open the lid of my sample case, and with a theatrical flourish, produced a small, smooth object, because I can now offer you

a genuine NASA-certified piece of the Red Planet. I could tell I had the attention of the three companions. The main man was acting cool. I could tell I had the attention of the three companions. I could tell I had the attention of the three companions. The main man was acting cool. I took a breath and went into overdrive. A genuine wonder of the universe, a fragment that has traveled through the icy void of space and survived the fiery shield of our very own Earth's atmosphere. Here, within reach of you, an object the like of which has never been seen in this state, and one of only six exemptions. examples in the entire world. I am sworn by Solomoth's to not reveal the other owners, but I can tell you that today one more name can be added to that exclusive list. Your name.

Your name, sir. I paused. Gold Tooth was looking me in the eye. How much? He asked. $200. I replied. He shook his head. "'One hundred.' "'This is a once-in-a-lifetime offer, sir,' I told him, then tried. "'One-fifty.' Gold-tooth nodded at his companions. They each took out, battered-looking wallets, and placed crumpled bills on the bar, until the

magic number was reached. "'I thank you,' I said, gave all four a little salute, then strolled serenely out of the bar. I was just unlocking the truck when I heard a voice behind me. It was the barmaid. Daylight added a decade to her age, but who was I to judge, with a well-worn face like mine? Buoyed by the sale. I decided to chance it. Say, I said, what time do you finish work? We could maybe get to know each other better. An exasperated expression clouded her features. You're a prize specimen for sure," she said. Listen, there's no time for romantic shenanigans.

That was Billy Houlin and his cousins. They're thugs, real bad, and you do not want to cross them. Well, I'm sorry to hear your clientele includes such poor sports. I replied, but I have crossed no one. That was a bona fide Mars Rock I sold him, hand on my heart. Oh, mister. began but never finished, because at that moment the bar doors opened and four very angry looking men appeared. Gold Tooth, Billy Houlin himself, held his hand out towards me.

This here piece of Mars you sold me just crumbled into dust when I tried biting on it. You done conned me. I want my money back. I was in the truck with the engine running before I yelled, No refunds. Then I floored the accelerator. No refunds, no regrets, and no going back to that place. I said to myself and chuckled. I was a good driver. A fast driver.

And through no fault of my own had found myself being pursued before. I wasn't worried. Until the first bullet hit the truck, I ducked instinctively, glanced around for broken glass and blood. But I seemed to be unscathed. A second gunshot sounded, and I felt the bullets impact once more as it hit the body of my truck. Damn it? I said, and looked in my rearview mirror. Sure enough, it was Billy Houlin and his companions, all piled into a car close on my tail. It was Hoolin who was leaning out of the window, aim in a shotgun. His third shot struck a tire. I felt the truck swerve, fought to get it back under control, but it was no use.

And I left the road and began to crash through dense undergrowth. I decided to go with the flow, and I put the pedal to the floor. Branches snapped and struck. The entire vehicle shook like it was having some kind of fit, but blessed that lump of rusty metal, it kept going. All the while I was waiting for the next shot, the one that would take me out of the game. 20 minutes or so, with no more projectile sent my way, and no sight or sign of Hoolin and his companions. I pulled up. The cover of the undergrowth was thinning out ahead of me, and I could

see low wooden buildings. It was growing dark as well. I decided to leave the truck there and see if I could find a place to spend the night. Figuring my stock would be safest left in the truck, I hopped out and set off towards the buildings. As I came closer, I felt like I was stepping into the past. There was no tarmac or street lamps, just simple one-story houses huddled together. This, I figured, must be the community the barmaid had told me about. Hoping that their desire to sidestep the modern world would not include turning away a stranger in need. I approached the nearest house. The last of the dusk light was clinging to the edges of the building, but there were no candles or oil lamps showing inside. I looked through a window.

saw the outline of a person sitting on a chair at a table. They were facing away from me, and I did not want to startle them by tapping on the window. So I went to the front door and did the polite thing. Gently knocked. There was no response, so I tried again. Still nothing. I looked around. As far as I could see, all the other houses were in darkness as well, and I was starting to feel

very exposed out there. I believed I'd lost Hoolen and his companion, but if they did turn up, I was an easy line of fire. I pushed at the door. To my relief, these good folks did not care for locks either. The door swung gently open, and I stepped inside. There was a musty smell, and the air seemed very still. The only sound I could hear was my own breathing.

Hello? I said. I'm a peaceful man. man in need of shelter. My name's Tom Jessup." There was no reply. So I moved through into the room where I had seen the seated figure. They still had their back to me and they showed no signs of moving. Perhaps they were asleep, I thought, so dog-tired that they'd fallen asleep or they sat. I walked up to them and placed a hand gently on their shoulder. I'm so sorry to disturb you. I began, but my voice faltered. The frame which I touched felt wrong. It was cold and seemed fragile. Fear trickling through my body, I stepped in front of them and saw a face that was drained of life. It was as if the skin and flesh had collapsed in on itself, and all that was left was a husk. Dead eyes stared back at me from hollowed sockets, sunk in cheek.

frames with a bony grimace. My chest tightened, and I began to move away, crept out of the room. There was no need. No one would ever disturb this poor soul again. Finally, I was back outside. I leaned forwards, put my hands on my knees, and waited for a wave of nausea to pass. What I wondered was wrong with this community. There couldn't have been more than two dozen dwellings here and And surely everyone knew everyone else's business, and yet a dead man sat in their midst. And not newly deceased. I'd never seen the like before, but his corpse was so far diminished. Surely his neighbors must have known.

I wondered as well if this was the place I should be seeking shelter. I straightened myself up. No, I told myself. I wasn't walking away. The decent thing to do was to try and get help and see this felt. buried in a proper way. I walked on, passed more of the houses. The darkness within them continued, so I left them be. Within a few moments, I seemed to have reached what appeared to be a gathering place. It was much larger than the building surrounding it, though its design

in construction was as simple. With the last light of the day guiding me, I pushed open the door and entered. It was cold in there. Colder than the dead man. and desiccated flesh. I could make out figures ahead of me, sitting on rows of long wooden benches that ran almost the width of the building. Hello there, I said. You need to come with me. One of your kin needs ministering to real bad. If they heard me, and there was no way surely they could not have, then they ignored me. Just sat there. I hurried forwards, wanting to shake some sense into it. these people. But as I came closer, I realized why no one was responding. They were gagged,

and their hands and feet were tightly bound. Eyes blinked and looked up at me as I came into their view. There were men and women, young and old, and each of them were held in place. I froze. What the hell, I thought. The people I encountered were trying to speak, but their voices were too badly muffled by their gags for me to make out what? They struggled against their restraints. I'll free you, I finally managed to say. I just need something to cut you loose. The man I was standing closest to stopped struggling. Slowly, deliberately, he shook his head. No. Then strained to look back in the direction of the door. What was he saying, that I should leave them bound? and leave here?"

I don't understand. I mumbled, and then a movement caught my eye. It was in a corner of the room. It was dark by now, but my eyes had adjusted. Still, I struggled to see what was there. Whatever it was, the people being held there began to struggle harder. I felt their fear, felt it catch hold of me like a fever. Sweat ran down my neck.

I shivered. The movement I had seen quickened. Something was crawling forward on all fours. It was a person, I thought. Bile rose into the back of my throat. It wasn't a person I now saw. It was inhuman. Its eyes were pools of darkness. Its nostrils flared. Its mouth twisted, one moment grinning, the other scowling. It was rising to its feet. feet now. Its body was slender and covered in tattoos. Now at its full height, it moved towards one of the bound figures. Its arms lifted, and in the fevered insanity of this moment, I thought it was going to take flight, that its arms would somehow transform into skin-lined wings. But no, it enveloped the bound form in its arms instead. Embrace them. And then its

mouth opened, and I saw the fangs that waited within, ready to strike, ready to bite down on the flesh beneath. I stood and stared, paralyzed by fear, as helpless as the person who was now being attacked. This nightmare can get no worse, I thought. And then it did. More figures began to emerge from the corners, more aberrations, more creatures that rose over the people who were held tight, held ready for the creatures to embrace. The creatures seemed to be lost in the frenzy of their feeding. I knew, though, it could only be a matter of seconds

before one of them noticed me. And then I was damned. I was one more bloodied, riving victim. I managed to break free of my paralysis and slowly inched backwards. It must only have taken me seconds to reach the door, but it felt like this journey of a few paces would never end. Then I emerged into the night, began to stumble forwards. I needed to get back to my truck, I needed to escape. I couldn't help any of these people now. All there was now was survival. I staggered on on shaky legs, not stopping when I vomited, tripping over tree roots, panicking and terrified and waiting for them to catch me, trap me, pierced my skin with their monstrous fangs. But soon the truck was there. I could see it only moments away, and with a jolt I saw

there was someone in it, someone trying to start the engine. And I remembered like a fool that I'd left the keys in the ignition. I raced forward. A face looked up at me from behind the wheel. It was a young woman, her pale, scared face framed by long, dark hair. I'm not one of them, I said, I'm not one of the creatures. And by then I was at the door of the truck. I pulled it open, move over, I said. She did. I drove like a madman.

I drove and soon we were on dirt tracks that widened out into tarmac roads and lights appeared in the distance. A 24-hour diner, a petrol station, a motel across from it. We needed gas, so I pulled up. She stretched and yawned in the passenger seat. Can we get a room in the motel? I need to sleep. She said. Sure, I replied.

I could only afford one room, but she said she didn't mind, but would appreciate it if I could wait outside while she took a shower and got into bed. I didn't mind at all. She turned around just before she went in. My name is Verity, by the way. Tom Jessup, I replied, and gave her a little salute as she closed the door behind her. I stood outside and looked up at the night sky and thought how there was a greater darkness down here on earth than anything to be found in space.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I had a signal again and saw I had a half-dozen messages from Deborah Lynn. lined up. I decided not to listen to him. As soon as I could, I would change my number. And this time I meant it. I'd escaped with my life tonight. And if that wasn't the spur I needed for me to change, well, then I was truly a hopeless case. A small voice called out from inside the room. You can come in. I went inside. It was cramped in beige and the aircon rattled. But after everything that just happened, it seemed like the most beautiful place in the world. The woman sat up in bed.

Her knees gathered up to her chin under the covers. I sat on a rickety chair next to the bed. How you feel in, Verity? I asked. I'm close to breaking, but hanging on. She replied, followed with a small smile. What happened back there? I regretted asking this as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

mouth. I mean, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want." She gave me a sweet look and said, No, no, that's okay. They came those things a few nights ago. They attacked us in our homes, killed some in the first few hours of their rampage, drank their blood, and left them as empty vessels. Then, as dawn approached, they rounded up all that was still whole and took them to the meeting hall, bound them and left them, before crawling away to hide from the light of day. They wanted to keep my kinfolk and my neighbors fresh, see, blood, warm and tender, for when the darkness returned, and they scurried forth to once more feed.

But how did you escape? She didn't answer, though. Her eyelids flickered, closed, and she was asleep. Worn out, poor thing, I thought. While she slept, and with dawn approaching, I've recorded this recollection on my phone. I don't know what I'm going to do with it. Nothing known me. Hell, I might even leave the phone itself in the motel room, let alone someone else find it and have it after I'm gone. It could do me good to be off grid for a while. Help me work out what comes next. I'll end now. She's me. moving restlessly on the bed. Her eyes are opening. She's mumbling something. What's that, Verity? You want me to close the curtains because the light is hurting.

Sure, yeah. Yeah, it's not a problem. She's smiling now and holding out her arms. Calling me into her embrace.