Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I Was An EMERGENCY Rescue Diver. This Is Why I Quit | Scary Stories

Episode Date: September 28, 2023

There was something down there.    Story from Saturdead Make sure to check out more of their work at u/Saturdead  Original Post: What happened under the caves of Greenbrier Valley : r/nosleep                                     Original YouTube link: I Was An EMERGENCY Rescue Diver. This Is Why I Quit              For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Merch: lighthousehorror.com  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Darren Curtis Music - YouTube  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 day, 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!

I was called out on an emergency dive on the 12th of April 2013. Back then I usually did forensic and rescue dives, but this was something different entirely. Usually I want to get called out. Time is a definite and measurable factor. For example, someone could be in mortal danger, or there's a time-sensitive object that needs to be retrieved. This time the objective wasn't clear. My first impression was that this was something catastrophic. I was called up in the middle of the night with no warning, and there was talk of a measurable geological event.

I wasn't briefed, and every person involved just stonewalled me with a barrage of, I don't knows. I knew pretty much anyone who worked on my level statewide, but these people were just gray-faced anonymous nobodies. They drove me all the way to Greenbrier Valley. imagine this middle-in-now-now weird dirt road covered by government-issued vehicles. Off the top of my head, I registered people from the USACE, United States Army Corps of Engineers, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the EPA, the United States Geological

Survey, and the West Virginia Division of Natural Resources. Those were just the ones I recognized, but at least half of the vehicles were unmarked or straight-up laws. I swear, one of them claimed to be a damn catering business. I was pushed through a crowd of people. Some were screaming at their phones. Others were screaming at one another. There was this one red-faced middle-aged man almost crying with frustration at a young woman. He kept waving his papers at her, and all she did was nod and smile. Somewhere along the line, people started asking me questions. What's the ETA on the your prep? Did you bring your own gear? Are you signed in? Where's the sign in? There were

other people I'd work with on side. There was Garrett, who'd just turned 44, and Nora. I'd work with Nora on a couple of rescue dives, but nothing on this scale. There were a few faces in the crowd that I vaguely recognized, but Garrett and Nora stood out. They were already suiting up. They were preparing for a cold dive and checking their equipment. I had some paper shoved in my hands. As I signed in, I could see a bubble of people forming around one of the U.S.A.E. representatives and an older woman in a professional pantsuit. You've got 12 hours, said the woman in the pantsuit. Not a second longer, this is private property. Garrett waved me over, and I sat down on a log next to him. I started to dress down. Someone needs

to talk to me. I said, someone tell me what's going on. Earthquake, said Nora. Not a big one, but yeah. What hell does this have to do with an earthquake? I asked. It's the lake, said Garrett. You'll see. Still putting on my gear, we were pushed forward. They took me by the arm and forced me on, drowning me in questions along the way. When we finally stepped through a forest clearing, what was supposed to be a small lake opened up on us. Except it wasn't a lake anymore. The water had been drained, leaving only a bed of dirt behind.

Hundreds of seagulls picking a dying fish in a cacophony of screeches. Men in hazmat suits were trying to chase them off, but only ended up slipping back and forth on the mud. In the middle of a drained lake was a hole. six by four feet. It was the only space that still retained water. There were tables set up around it, along with security tape and red flags. About a dozen people spread out around a dozen laptops, making calculations, and checking measurements. An anonymous woman popped up next to us, pushing us forward. I could sense the warmth of the sun on the horizon, about an hour

from dawn. We're doing a blind dive, she said. We need you to be in constant communication with us about anything you see. You'll be going in within the hour. We're not doing that, said Garrett. There's no emergency here. There's no. Suddenly, Garrett came tumbling into the mud. The woman had pushed him. You're doing this, she snarled. You're doing it. We're not doing shit until we get—' You see that? She interrupted Garrett, pointing to the army of vehicles.

That right there is a sworn oath that I will burn your damn life to the ground, you cocky, son of a bitch. Now you do this, or you'll never touch a glass of water again. Nora helped Garrett up, and we hurried down. down to the hole. I could barely hear anything over the feasting seagulls. I was thankful for the rubber mask keeping me from the smell of dead fish. Two men tried their best to prep the basics, but we had nothing. There was basically no dive plan. No idea about the temperature, the stability, the currents. Nothing. These people were completely clueless. The only thing they could answer

was the size of what we were getting into. The small quake had revealed a sprawling cave system, which the lake water had drained into, roughly 350 feet wide and 700 feet deep, all underground. I tried my best to wrap my head around it. We tested our co-linked masks and settled on individual tracking lines. We'd be diving for 20 minutes, then set aside 25 for resurfacing and depressurizing. We'd be having air tanks on rotation and constant contact with those up at the control, at the slightest hint of trouble. We'd bail. No questions asked. There was no way we'd go and blind for any longer than that. We'd agreed on resurfacing if there was a comms malfunction, even though we all knew hand signals by heart.

This couldn't go wrong on any level. We were still setting up when we were given hand chisels and self-sealing bags. We want samples of everything, they told us. Everything. Now let's try to put this in perspective. At this point, we barely knew anything. An earthquake had revealed a cave system on some kind of company property. The size and depth of this was unfathomable.

In twelve hours we'd be kicked off a site, possibly so they could perform their own tests. This cave system had been completely isolated, possibly for tens of thousands of years. Someone even kept thrown around the term Karoo Ice Age, but that seemed improbable. This place would either be a unique resource or a complete waste of time. We were at least one to two hours in on the countdown when we first dipped our toes in the water. It was much colder than anticipated. As I sat on the edge, dangling my feet in the murky water. One of the on-site technicians double-checked my air tanks.

He's exciting, isn't it? He smiled. I'm jealous. How come? I asked. You get to explore, he chuckled. actual space that no human eyes have ever seen before. That's not always a good thing, nodded Nora.

And there's plenty of that on the ocean floor. We took that first plunge. I could barely see anything because of the mud and the reeds. So we just went straight down. The water got colder with every foot and little dust particles whizzing past me, made it feel like driving through a rainstorm. As we got further down, this sense of unease settled in my chest. I'd never been so ill prepared for a dive, and this was beyond anything I'd ever experienced.

There's a reason why people are advised to stay out of underwater caves. This was, in more ways than one, uncharted waters. We went down about 25 feet, where we finally hit rock bottom. The cave wall was rough and sharp, with some kind of thin crystal layer. Salt, I figured. Nora got a sample. As anonymous voices buzzed in our ears, I could barely make out half of it. All right, go deeper.

A voice came through. We mapped out three different tunnels leading further down. The first one we checked. Turned out to be so thin, my equipment risked snagging on the walls. We backed out and tried another tunnel until we found one large enough. Still, it was more like crawling than swimming. Turtle One, we're getting seismic. A voice came through.

Please respond. Stand by equalizing. I could feel the mechanism from the camera on my shoulder whirring. Garrett came through on the local channel. No way the signal sticks. Granite in courts. is pointless. Resurface in ten, I said.

Check for samples in the cracks. The tunnel led us to a small cave. The water was less murky, but the space was only about 15 by 20 feet, and at most six feet high. It was enough for us to regroup, check our tethers, and take a few samples. Nora found some kind of transparent goo lining a crack in the wall, while Garrett tried to chisel off a piece of it granted. I thought I saw something shimmering, but it was just the light from my camera reflecting off a piece of quartz. I grabbed it though. I couldn't come up at

the handed. Once our time was up, we came back up for air. We were slow and methodical, but we were getting results. There was no way we'd reach the bottom in 12 hours, but we figured we could get something interesting, given enough dives. When we came to the bottom, we'd back up, there were at least 50 people standing in a circle looking at us. Men in hazmat suits brought coolers for us to put the samples in, and two technicians were working on an air hose system. We took a short break to wait for them to finish it, change up our air tanks, and plan our second dive. This time we could go deeper. The air hoses could reach 60 feet, but they were already working on an extension. Still, Garrett insisted on refreshing our air tanks as well, just in case.

As we hooked up the airhouses, the stiff chemical air from our tanks was exchanged with this musky forest breeze, stinking of dead fish and mud. There was also a little whiff of diesel from one of the on-site generators. As we dove back into the murky waters, we headed straight for the tunnels. This time we were going deeper. the reeds, past the mud. We mapped out three more tunnels going further and further down. We moved carefully, our new air hoses working as tethers. But it didn't take long for us to reach the limit and Nora called it in. Surface control. We need a longer line.

No response. We waited for a moment, but there was nothing on the other end. Time-wise, this probably around the break of dawn. Just like Garrett said, we'd gone too deep to hold a solid signal. I can go up and relay, said Garrett. Or we could just tug and hope for the best. I'm not tugging on an air hose, said Nora. Wait, you hearing this? Little burst of static. The camera on my shoulder whirred like crazy. Nora gave me the hand signal for resurfacing and took point. Garrett and I followed. Time to bail. There was a deep rumbling sound

coming from beneath. It felt like the ground itself was trying to start a diesel motor, cycles of rumbling, making cracks on the walls. Something big was happening, and we had to get out now. I could feel my breath shortening as my body realized that air was no longer a certainty, The moment Nora got through the first tunnel, I saw the rock wall shift, solid knife-sharp granite, moved with the ease of a child smacking a balloon. To the sound of a deafening thunderstorm, the tunnel collapsed above us. The air hoses got cut, and Nora's foot was crushed into a pulp. Together, they sprayed air and bone fragments into the water, as the sound of our

collapsing world got loud enough to rattle my bones. Parts of a blood-curdling screech came through our comms as the water started to move. We were being sucked down. I protected my head as I was tossed around the tunnels. Further and further down, my air tank clinked against the wall. I instinctively gasped for air, but I could feel water rushing into my mask. There was no air supply on the other end. The hose was cut clean.

The walls rushed past me. I slammed my shoulder, my knee, my thigh, my shoulder. At one point, I smacked the back of my head, and I could feel my body temperature shift. It was a wound, but not a deep one. Somewhere in the chaos, I felt the camera on my shoulder come loose, and I got into a roll. I spun out of control and lost all sense of distance. It wasn't just a few seconds of suction either. It was a significant amount of time.

My world spun and bashed me into the rocks over and over and over. I could feel blood leaving my body and I was getting cold. Colder and colder. But I couldn't tell if it was blood loss or the water. The word disorientation. oriented doesn't begin to describe it. At some point, it just stopped. I was floating in this endless pool of darkness, a black bottomless ocean.

I couldn't tell what was up and what was down anymore. I tried to move upwards, but it didn't feel right. Not only did my arm refuse to move, but there was too much resistance. It took me a few seconds to realize I was trying to swim down. I was upside down. There was water pulling in my mask. I could feel it just under my mouth. I could see little air bubbles popping and I had to spit to keep my mouth clear.

It had a strange, sugary taste mixed with iron, but most of it was blood. Something grabbed me. My first instinct was to fight, but I couldn't. I'd strained my arm and my left foot was dislocated. I was shivering and I could see a long gash across my thigh. That was just at the limit of what my mask light could pick up. I couldn't even see my feet. Garrett came into focus. He made a hand movement that I didn't recognize. A closed fist with fingers pushing outwards. A push and exhale? Right.

I exhaled. Hard, pushing out the water in my mask. The next second, Garrett connected my air tank to my mask. For a moment, we just looked at one another. He had a bad cut just above his right eye, and it was bleeding into his mask. Our comms were dead. We had to rely on hand signals. put a hand on my cheek and checked my mask for cracks.

Seemed okay? He gave me the signal for okay, and I responded in kind. I was not okay, but I was well enough to move if a bit slower. We moved carefully and calmly. There was no way to tell how far down we wore, and we had to be careful to preserve our air. At most, we had a little less than an hour of air if we could keep steady. Probably a lot less, though. We held hands, slowly going upwards.

It felt right. I was oriented. We kept moving, but it felt like we hadn't moved at all. The water was still black and nothing changed. At one point, Garrett suddenly stopped. I moved up next to him and followed his eyes. He looked upwards. Little shimmers in the water.

Fish? A school of dozens of little fish. They were about four inches long in a strange color of blue. They were completely eyeless with their entire face covered in a thick, octopus-like beak. They avoided us to the best of their ability, shooting past at amazing speed. Still, they were close enough for Garrett to pull. them if you wanted to. He didn't. And neither did I. Whatever these were, they were native to the area. They could be venomous. Garrett tightened his grip on my hand, and we kept moving

upwards. After ten minutes of going in a straight line, we came to a full stop, a solid rock ceiling, just a wall without the hint of an opening or tunnel. It occurred to me that we might have come down horizontally through a side passage. If that was the case, we were doing the human equivalent of a fly buzzing through a window trying to get out. We looked around, but the ceiling was almost completely flat. There was no telling where we ought to go. Still, I had to try and keep calm. Panicking would kill us faster. But even with this seemingly endless large space, I'd never felt so trapped in my entire life. I held my breath, trying to slow the shivers.

Garrett reached for his chisel. Poking at the wall, he managed to dislodge a few kernels of granite. He stared at them, looking for any sign of movement. Apart from sinking, they were slightly drifting to our left. Of course, there was a current. I was trying to ignore how much time had passed, and at the same time counting the seconds, its diving watch was busted and mine hadn't been properly reset before the second dive. It was still on time for our first.

This was exactly the kind of shit I'd wanted to avoid, but we'd been so stressed to get back in. At one point, the ceiling started to curve and there finally was an opening. It seemed to lead upwards. We followed it, squeezing through a tight space where I had to end. exhale to pass through, shimmying forward, breathlessly inch by inch, tons of unstable rock pressing on my aching chest, and then we broke through the surface just like that. We weren't topside, but this was an air pocket. It was large enough to fit us both as long as we squatted a bit. There was a tunnel leading us further, but we decided to catch our breath.

I was the first to shut off my air and clean out my mask, but Garrett was quick to follow. Finally, we could speak freely. Stale, sugary, sweet air filled our lungs. I coughed, making my ribs ache even more. The lake water, said Garrett. It hadn't settled with the temperature shift from the sunrise. That heated it. It got it moving.

So how deep? I asked. At least, uh, at least 300 feet. At least, and that's just, that's just straight down, he said. Nora, did you? No, said Garrett, shaking his head. It closed. She might be trapped up there, but at least you won't.

drown. I nodded, gently massaging my foot. I was going to have to pop it back into place, but just touching my skin sent bolts of pain through me. You could wait, he said. You're hurt. I'm not dying here, I replied. Good, he said. We caught our breaths and checked our equipment. We had about three quarters of our tanks left, so we were doing pretty good. We had some cuts and bruises, some that might need stitching. Nothing urgent, but it might get bad if left untreated. Who knew what kind of bacteria was down there? I couldn't stop shivering, and Garrett was getting worried.

He kept asking if I was sleepy. Honestly, I could feel it. There was something there. Eyelids growing heavy as my lungs strained against my ribs. We got back down underwater. Our equipment clean and secured. The tunnels were slowly widening, allowing us to crawl forward. There were a few intersections, and we did our best to map where we'd gone.

I had some remaining scraps from the ripped air hose that we pushed into cracks in the wall, sort of marking our path like breadcrumbs. At the very least, we could get back to the air pocket if necessary. We went down a few tunnels, only to be met with a series of dead ends. It was a damn labyrinth, and my heart sank with every stop. When we finally found a path going forward, we had a very difficult choice to make. We could circle back and regroup or push forward and save some time. Every minute moving backwards would be a loss, but every minute forward,

could be a death sentence. Garrett squeezed my hand, looking for some kind of guidance. I signed forward. The tunnel opened into a vertical shaft, going straight up. I could feel a slight rush of water, gently pushing us back down. It was only for a moment, but it made me realize that the current was getting stronger. Suddenly, the water started to shimmer. Hundreds of those blue-colored fish rushed past us down into the depths of the tunnels.

Maybe they followed the current. Either way, they had to come from somewhere, so we pushed forward. Garrett squeezed my hand in celebration. There was another set of tunnels in the ceiling, branching into several paths. They all look deep enough to lead somewhere, so we just picked one at random. I couldn't mark our path any further. I had nothing left to leave behind. We kept going upwards until Garrett suddenly stopped.

There was something shimmering in the tunnel ahead, some kind of gemstone or quartz. They reflected the lights off our masks. Another dead end. Eyes? These... Orbs. Predatory and unfeeling.

It came out of the dark. It had these long, bone-like arms. It didn't swim. It crawled along the rocky walls. It was fast, fast enough to catch those little blue fish. It was large, but that didn't slow it down. It could barely squeeze through the tunnel while Garrett and I could move freely. We were never meant to meet that thing. Never. To this day, I can't look down dark corridors. I imagine those arms reaching out for me. I ignored every safety precaution I've ever known. I rushed, I huffed, I screamed, I crawled, I kicked, and I forced myself back down as fast as humanly possible. I didn't care about the searing pain in my foot, I just kept going. All I could feel was the water moving.

behind me as every sudden movement transferred into waves pushing against my aching limbs but I didn't care at that moment I didn't care about anything but getting away at the mouth of a tunnel I turned around for a brief second only to see Garrett's wide eyes staring back at me and that moment I could tell what he was thinking he realized he was about to die. Long fingers wrapped around him as his right arm was ripped from his socket. I could feel the snap reverberating through the tunnel. Vibrations from his death screams reached me, but all I could hear was my own panicked breathing. I remember flashes of shimmering blue as I fled down tunnel after tunnel. I didn't see a single marker. There was another air pocket.

But I just kept pushing forward. I had no idea where I was, but I could feel those dark eyes looking for me, arms reaching for me. The air in my tank started to feel strange, warm, panicked. I kept going forward. I finally came to another air pocket and I tore my mask off and shut the air tank. Everything tasted bloody and salty. It was just this small space, just big enough for my head to fit in if it tilted just right.

The light on my mask was dying. It started to flicker. If I held it at the right angle, it was fine, but it was just a matter of time. I stayed there for at least ten minutes. Just trying to breathe. I was lost and freezing. There was no telling how long I'd been down there. I couldn't even tell how much air I had left in the tank.

But it wasn't much. If I wanted to move, I had to ration it. But I couldn't move without it. There was no way I'd be lucky enough to find another air pocket within what a minute of free diving. But I couldn't stay here. I didn't trust a single person up there. There were no rescue parties coming down here anytime soon. Even if they wanted to. Could they? And even without a predator stalking these. tunnels I was gonna freeze to death and I was still bleeding wait wait bleeding shit my pulse rose as I felt something shift a pressure in the tunnel underneath there was no way I could move fast enough I just had to hope against hope that it wouldn't find me maybe it didn't hunt like a shark I held my breath and I felt strokes of movement in the water. It was moving this way. I closed my eyes so hard my head started to spin. Tears trickled out of my eyes, making little plopping noises as they hit the surface of the water. It was barely audible, but to me it felt like hammer blows. The stroke stopped.

It was close. I carefully opened my eyes to look down, but everything was. was dark. My mask light had given up. Moments later, the strokes continued past me. Maybe it wasn't used to hunting humans, or maybe it was taking its prey back to the nest. When I could no longer feel the strokes, I exhaled, coughing violently. My mouth tasted blood. There was no choice left. I had to keep going with what little I had. I secured my mask and let my hands rest in the water for a moment. Just floating in that little space was like anything I'd ever experienced before. It was such an alien primal feeling.

I'd been in trouble before, but nothing like this, nothing even remotely like this. I slowed my breathing, and I took the plunge. To my surprise, there was one strange sensation I hadn't noticed. When the lights were off, it was easier to sense the current. Maybe it was a rely on my other senses kind of thing, but it was much clearer, even in the dark. I could feel the right way for me to go. A circulation of some kind coming from above.

As I came to a branching tunnel, it was a bit harder to tell where I was supposed to go. I decided to just keep going up, so I did. The current was getting stronger. And all of a sudden I breached into another air pocket. But I could hear something. A metallic clinking. It didn't take me long to find it. Garrett's air tank.

On one hand, I was incredibly lucky. On the other hand, that thing was close. Really close. I still had a little juice left in my tank, so I hobbled forward. This air pocket was large, more like a cavern. Ankle-deep water, forcing me to walk and actually feel my body weight. I've never felt so heavy in all my life, and the equipment didn't help. I was so tired.

I could easily have lied down and just died or slept. Whatever came first. Instead, I pushed on with an extra tank in hand. I kept going further and further up. I started to hold my breath for as long as I could, using only what little air I had when absolutely necessary. I could feel more of those little fish rushing past me, sometimes with me, sometimes towards me. It dawned on me that they might be fleeing a pursuing predator and that I was an idiot for not following them. Then again, they might just be following the current.

I couldn't tell. I must have flailed around through caves, passages, and tunnels for hours, using every air pocket I could find and eventually just ditching my tank. All I had left was the scraps remaining from Garrett's tank. Every foot started to feel like a death sentence, like I was digging my own grave. Maybe if we just stayed put in the first place, someone would have found us. Maybe being proactive was the wrong move. I was going upwards when I felt the air in Garrett's tank start to go bad when I managed to breach into yet another air pocket.

I just threw it aside. This was it. End of the line. The tank clanged against the sides of the cave and somewhere further in. I heard a noise, a little gasp. Something had heard me. I stuck myself to the wall as I heard large, wet feet slapping against the cave floor. It had this strange frog-like breath, like air pushing against a memor.

brain. It stopped. It listened. Blood dripped from my arm and plopped against the water. Luckily, it didn't hear me or care. Instead, I heard a bone snap like a carrot. Then the sound of gnawing and suckling. I must have stood there paralyzed for at least half an hour. And then I heard it go down a side tunnel and disappear into the deep. This was my shot. I hobbled away only to step on something. A partly devoured foot. From that point on, it was just systematic and careful plunges, follow the current for 30

seconds, and if I couldn't feel a way forward, I turned back, caught my breath, and tried a different path. I was still holding my breath so much that my chest had started to ache more than my foot. Still, I was making progress. Finally, I came to this large vertical shoot. I felt a rush going upwards. There had to be something. I held my breath for as long as I could, waiting for the surface for an air pocket. But this time there was nothing. Dead end. I just slammed into a smooth surface, Knocking myself over the head.

A part of me wanted to scream so bad that air pushed out of my lungs. But the surface was smooth. Unnaturally so. Almost metallic. I pounded it with my fist. It was thin but heavy. Definitely metallic. But with every pounding fist, I could feel something else move.

Something was coming from below. It found me. It started with a tickle against my good leg. These little fingers tenderly wrapping themselves around my ankle, ready to pull me down. I didn't let it. I kicked, I crawled, I pushed myself upwards, and I pounded the metal. A cramp in my arm forced me to scream. Something grabbed me from below, pulling me down at least four feet before I managed to kick

myself loose. Gaining momentum, I flung myself upward, again crashing into the metal surface. But this time, it buckled. Just an inch, but it buckled. And suddenly there was light. Air. And whatever reached for me recoiled in fear. Four men had moved what looked like a makeshift manhole cover out of the way. And they pulled me up. I didn't even notice I was breathing. I just forced air into my lungs so I could keep screaming and screaming. Turns out, Nora made it to the surface. She'd lost a foot, but she'd made it. She'd been airlifted out and the entry was sealed. They tried to get another diving team, but there was no one mouse around. If they'd had more time, they'd have flown out another crew of four from Minnesota.

I was down there for a total of nine hours and 37 minutes. I had to sign a contract not to speak about this for ten years. That time is up. And now I'm telling you what I know. Garrett died down there and Nora was permanently maimed. I'd like to consider myself lucky. But I didn't come out from this unscathed either. I don't want to go into detail, but there are some wounds that aren't as easily seen as a missing foot. That space was bought by this investment company called Hatchet. I'm pretty sure they're still operating there today. I've seen the chain-linked fences and the warning signs, not to mention the armed guards.

I've since moved on from diving. I can barely swim in a pool anymore. And honestly, I'm fine with that.