Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I'm a guard stationed at an UNDERGROUND Government Prison | Scary Stories

Episode Date: February 26, 2024

You won't believe what's down here!          Story from Simon “DrunkenSwordsman” Crowe Make sure to check out more of their work at u/DrunkenSwordsman   Cover Art from Luke Starkie                 Original Post: There's a war raging under the earth. Humanity is losing. (Part 1) : r/nosleep  Original YouTube link: I'm a guard stationed at an UNDERGROUND Government Prison           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 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!

I work as a guard in a very special kind of prison. Being assigned here was my punishment for some very bad mistakes I made several years ago. People died, and I ended up here. Forget maximum security or Guantanamo. We hold worse monsters than murderers or terrorists. Our prisons are things science or reason can't explain. Anomalies, horrors, nightmares. subjects, as we like to call them, whatever they are, wherever they come from, they all end up here.

And sometimes, just like regular prisoners, they escape. I ran down the bright white corridors of the facility. I held my gun to my chest cursing. Of course this breach was in my unit sector. Of course it was our responsibility to contain it. Of course it had to happen on my coffee break. The PA system continued to blur out. This is not a drill.

Subject 31A has breached containment. I repeat, the Prophet has breached containment. Huh. The Prophet. That was a relief at least. Of all the lunatics we held in our many cells, the Prophet seemed the most harmless. It was simply a tall humanoid shape and black robes. No one's ever seen what it looks like under them.

No spikes, no tentacles, no screaming, tortured faces covering its body. Seemed almost too good to be true. Maybe this would be easier than I thought. Matthews caught up to me as I ran. She was a friend of mine from my unit. The prophet, huh? I said. That's right, Matthews grinned.

I guess there's always a silver lining, huh? This will be over by lunch break. Any info about it? I asked. None. It's never breached containment, though. Can't be that bad. I nodded, but a tiny seed of doubt stuck in my mind.

More soldiers fell in line with us. Twenty men and women from my unit came together as we made our way towards Gamma Wing, the Prophet's holding area. Above us, the PA system came to life again. Attention, all personnel. A red three event is underway. Multiple breaches in wings, alpha, and beta detected. Contain or destroy any escaped subjects. Lethal force is authorized. Damn it! Matthews. cursed. Somewhere in the facility, a loud siren went off.

All right, weapons hot, said Davis, our unit commander. Total control. I don't know what this is, but I'll be damned if my coffee goes cold while we're dealing with it. There was a clatter of metal as 20 rifles were armed. Every one of us held heavy caliber weaponry that doesn't officially exist. Our priority target is the prophet, Davis continued. So far, it's the only escape subject in Gamma Wing. We find it, we bring it down, we take it. Understood.

Sir, yes, sir, we all roared back. We rounded the last corner and reached the containment door for Gamma Wing. It was several layers of solid steel. You'd need a tank to get through it. Davis slammed his hand down on a biometric scanner next to it. A green light lit up, and the door swung upward. We marched in. Now the main area of Gamma Wing was a huge open rectangle 50 meters across.

The open space was filled with control panels and scientific equipment. Its walls were broken up every 10 meters by these thick steel doors. Each one of these cells held things you couldn't even imagine. And we move forward. Weapons up and all instincts dialed to maximum. From somewhere in the facility came the sound of gunfire and screaming. Most of it sounded human. Most, but not all.

Where's the others? Matthews whispered, stepping up next to me. There's supposed to be more. And she was right. There were 20 of us here. A single unit, Gamma Wang, should have been manned by ten times that number. We'd been away when the outbreak started, but 200 soldiers should have stayed here. Where were they?

Contact, someone yelled. Hold your fire, Davis replied. A figure stood on the far side of the room. How did it get there? We marched closer. The figure appeared to be a tall man, dressed in dark robes. Lie down on the ground, now, Davis said. Down on the ground and hands on your.

head." Really? I thought. The prophet may look human, but it was anything but that. Davis was treating it like an escaped felon. The figure didn't move. We crept closer. Everything moved slowly.

Get down right now, I said. The figure moved then. It raised a single hand. I blinked. And for a split second, the room wasn't white. It was dark. Red. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

A voice echoed through the room. Everything was so slow I couldn't think. There was only the voice and the figure. Will you serve? It asked. Get down right now. Davis repeated. I suppose not.

The voice said. No matter. There are few who will in the ages to come. And then it just turned and began walking away from us. We fired. But in the same moment the gunshot started, the room went dark. And then bright red emergency lights pierced through the darkness. And I realized I was standing in a pool of blood and gore. The ground was littered with bodies.

And then we saw it. The empty cells, their doors hanging wide open. They were all free. They paused. We paused. And for a second, everything was still. Same thought occurred to everyone at the same time. If we could see them, they could see us. Gunfire and screaming erupted from the darkness. Davis was ripped away from beside me. Something huge carried him away on wings. I pressed down on the trigger, firing its shapes I could barely see.

Something with dangling stick-like limbs. and too many teeth ran at me. And my gun clicked empty. I fumbled the magazine. It was getting too close, and I could see it smiling, reaching for me. Just then a rain of bullets pushed the thing away. It cried out, and I shivered.

It sounded too much like a hurt toddler. Matthews appeared in the dark beside me. Run! She said that I didn't need convincing. Together, we sprinted through Gamma Wing. Something hot and wet hit my torso, but I didn't look down. Matthew slipped on a pile of blood. I cursed and hauled her up to her feet.

We looked around desperately, just trying to find a way out. The door we'd entered had closed behind us. On the far side of the room, another had opened. We ran for it, but for a split second, I thought I saw a hooded, robed figure walking through the doorway. Richard, Matthews yelled my name, and I turned around just in time. I raised my gun, and I emptied it into the mouth of a creature made of human limbs. It went down writhing and leaking blood. Reload, gun up, keep running, I said to myself.

We tumbled through the thick door of Gamma Wing. The corridor beyond was dark. The only light came from the red glare of emergency lights. I circled in place with my gun to my cheek. Were there any survivors? Straglers running after us? No, no. Gamma Wing had been destroyed.

Only a few of our squad were left alive, but not for long. They were being ripped apart by spikes and limbs and teeth. Matthew slammed her hand down on the control panel. The door squealed, but didn't shut. A crooked, crone-like thing looked up from where it was butchering a soldier. It laughed. It dragged itself closer on arms that ended in sharp points. To hell with this, Matthew said, and shot the control panel. And that did it. The door slammed shut,

blocking off Gamma wing. I wheeled around, searching the corridors for more threats, but nothing moved. The prophet had moved on. We stood still for a while, breathing. heavily. My lungs burned. Gradually, my heart slowed down. What the hell just happened? I forced out. In game, Matthews answered. Curtains, Waterloo, there's no stopping this. We don't have the firepower. We don't even have the numbers. The prophet did this. I said, straightening up. It was the first to get out. It must have sprung the others. How? Matthews said. It's never even escaped containment itself, Richard. How could it cause this? I shrugged. I don't know, Matthews. Maybe it was gathering its strength. Maybe, I don't

know. It's been waiting for us to drop our guard. I don't know. Nothing's making sense right now. I paused, and we stood in silence for a while. What do we do now? I said. We hole up somewhere, she began. The higher-ups will be sending reinforcements we just need to survive till then. Where? Gamma wings lost, Matthews said grimly. There's no one to regroup with here. The way to Alpha and Beta is through... That. I heard gunfire from the other sectors.

They might already be overrun, I said. The surface, then, Matthews replied. I nodded. The prison was built deep underground. It was another security measure to prevent escape. The only way to reach the surface was by using the elevators. The largest were an alpha wing. They were huge metal boxes used to bring food, equipment, and ammunition down to the base.

Each wing also had its own emergency elevators for evacuations. The emergency lifts. I gestured toward the corridor. Matthews nodded. I agree. Let's move. Guns up. We made our way through the facility. Under different circumstances, we could. have reached the elevators in maybe twenty minutes, but the darkness slowed us down. We passed by bodies scattered all over the floor. Had the prophet done this? Or was it some other escaped horror? Were we even alone in the dark? I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

Wait, wait, Matthew said. I stopped and glanced over. She was kneeling beside a dead soldier. Her shoes were wet with his drying blood. What is it? I asked. I wanted to keep moving. What the hell happened here? I looked over her shoulder and cursed. The man looked like he'd been experimented on, used as a puppet. His eyes and mouth were stitched closed with thick string.

His hands had extra fingers. His skin was a mismatched patchwork of different colors. Matthews turned him over with her gun and then shrank back. Bile rose in my throat. The back of his head, it wasn't a head at all. It was his second face, a face stitched on with filthy blood-stained. string. I wheeled around, and now I saw it. All the sprawled bodies were horribly mangled, extra limbs, extra faces, bones bent and misshaped. One body had somehow been stitched

directly under the steel wall. There was a sound behind us. We spun around aiming at the dark, There was a movement in the shadows, and then the sound of wet, heavy breathing. Show yourself, Matthew said. The shadows moved until they formed the shape of a man. Damn it all, I said to myself. The figure facing us was tall, skinny, and almost naked. A filthy blood-stained sheet was tied around its stick-thin waist. Its face was covered by a surgical mask. A few strands of white hair hung from its head.

In one hand, it held a roll of string. In the other, a large, rusty needle. Oh my God. It was Subject 49G. Surgeon. Well, hello there, good day, it said calmly. Excuse my manners, just a second. It bent down to one of the bodies, and there was a wet, tearing sound. The surgeon stood up. It was holding a piece of flesh in its hand, which it tucked behind the folded sheet at its waist. I almost threw up. Are you here to help me with my research? The thing asked.

It took a step closer, and I gripped my gun harder. Get back. I said I could hear my voice shaking. My good man, I'm on the verge of a great medical breakthrough. I am in need of test subjects, however. The surgeon said as he walked forward, It gestured to the stitched corpses around us. These expired far too quickly to give me any useful data.

It took another step forward and tilted its head. It's so nice of you to volunteer. And then it leapt forward, silent as a shadow. Matthews fired, but her bullets sparked off the wall. I pressed down the trigger. The surgeon was heading right at me. Its head snapped back as I fired and blood sprayed from where I hit it. But my God, the thing didn't fall.

Its head just tilted back forward. It brought its hand to the wound and reached inside. There was a wet, squelching sound, and then it withdrew its hand and dropped a handful of bullets to the ground. It looked at me and began to speak. Physician, heal thyself. It said, Matthews unloaded on the thing, firing dead center. I stumbled back, reaching for a fresh magazine.

I heard Matthews gun. click empty. The surgeon stepped back. Black blood flowed down its filthy apron. It straightened up. Oh, my dears, that's quite enough. Don't worry. I will take extra care to keep you alive. And I realized then our guns couldn't kill it. We could only cause it pain. Matthews grabbed a fresh magazine. The surgeon leapt forward, hands outstretched. And then it stopped. No, the surgeon said. No, they're mine. You can't take them from me. And then I realized, I was blind. The darkness had been thick before, but now it was absolute. No emergency lights. Just complete total blackness. I was blind. Something large and heavy moved in the darkness. I could actually feel the air move as it shifted.

A voice came from behind the surgeon then. Hunt elsewhere, Thirsting One. I have business with them. Oh, but I need test subjects. The surgeon whined. Incredibly. I realized it sounded afraid. There are plenty of others in this facility. Hunt them for now. The surgeon inhaled sharply.

I heard it straightened up and walk right past us. And I gagged at the stench, rotting meat. and ammonia. And then it was gone. What the hell was that, Matthews? I whispered. No idea, she answered, slowly racking the slide of her gun. Be not afraid, came the voice from the dark. For now, you are not in danger. What are you? I asked. change. I have had many over the ages. To your people, I am subject 15C." Oh, great, Matthew said. You know this thing? I replied. I remember it from my time on Alpha Wing. It's a trickster, a dealer in secret.

Don't buy anything it's selling. You won't like the price. She explained. Oh, well, in better times, I would indeed offer you a trade. The voice said, but the situation is dire. What do you mean? I asked. Matthews elbowed me in the dark. I ignored her. The one you call the prophet?

It has escaped. Yeah, we noticed. Matthews muttered. Oh, this situation's more severe than you comprehend. The voice continued. Your kind captured the prophet, not knowing the danger it posed. It is far more dangerous that anything else trapped in this prison of yours. What is it? I asked.

The thing's name is correct. It is only a messenger. The forerunner of something greater. Something worse. And you need us to stop it, Matthew said. You need our help. The thing shifted in the darkness. She was right.

Okay. Then you tell us what it is we're stopping, I said. I cannot. The voice trembled slightly. Then we can't help you, I said. The ground shook then. The thing in the shadows heaved angrily. I realized I might have overstepped my mark.

Okay, look, just give us something, I said, holding up my hands apologetically. Anything. We need information to fight the prophet. Tell us why we're doing this. The thing paused for a second. I will tell you what I can. It is not much, and you will leave with more questions. Are you familiar with the area of the cosmos your race calls the great nothing?

I was. The Boots Void. It's a region of space with very few stars or galaxies. Hence the name. The nothing is an expanse of darkness, but your knowledge is flawed. Your kind has observed lights in the void. That much is true. Believe me now, those are not galaxies.

Those are not stars. I fell silent. A chill ran down my back. What are those lights? Prophet is heading to this facility's communication center. The thing in the dark continued. It wishes to send a transmission into deep space. Your kind will find it unintelligible.

Its kind won't. Okay, and how do we stop it? I said. This thing, whatever it was, had to know. It had to tell us, I do not know. The prophet is beyond even my understanding. It and that witch sent it are a disease on reality, not a part of it. I do not understand them.

I don't know if it can be stopped. But for the good of both my kind and yours, I pray that you can find a way. I realized then that I could see the red emergency lights again. The darkness was gone. Beside me, Matthews leaned on a blood-spattered wall. We should move. The calm center isn't far from here, she said, pointing down the corridor. I'd check the ammo in my gun.

One mag loaded. One more on my belt. Not the best way to start our hunt for the profit. All right, well, let's get started then. I said, forcing a smile. We ran through the facility. Our guns aimed its shadows. Every now and then, a sound came from behind or from far ahead.

The things were fighting among themselves now. Wait, wait, do you hear that? Matthew said, as we ran into a darkened intersection. I paused, trying to listen over the pounding of blood in my ears. Nothing. Suddenly Matthews whirled around, pointing down a darkened passageway. She started down the corridor. I grabbed her shoulder, trying to steer her back towards the calm center.

You can't hear her? Matthews said surprised. She's right there, just in the dark. Who are you talking about? I asked. And then a sound from the dark caught my attention. Somewhere in the tunnel Matthews was trying to go down. Something moved slowly, dragging itself towards us.

While I was distracted by the sound, Matthews tried to run past me. At the last second, I grabbed the straps of her body armor and dragged her back. We need to go, I said. Whatever's down there, it's not who you think it is. The thing was close. I could hear the sound of labored breathing now. It was getting closer.

The shadows moved and something began to emerge. something not human. Matthews froze. Let's go, I said, hauling her back. Matthews didn't fight back as I pulled her away from the thing in the dark and under the corridor towards the comms room. And the thing behind us didn't cry out. It simply kept breathing as it dragged itself towards us. We ran through the red-lit hallways.

Adrenaline and lactic acid burned through our veins. I could still hear the thing behind us. A crossroads appeared ahead. I leapt right, following the sign to the comms room. We were running out of time. We ran through a side wing of the complex, and I realized I'd never been here. There wasn't much use for guards in this part of the prison.

This is where we held the things. that weren't dangerous enough for an active guard detail, artifacts, forbidden books, harmless entities, that sort of thing. I heard Matthews let out a gasp and crashed to the floor. I wheeled around. The surgeon had her pinned. One of its arms was holding down her struggling hands. It had put the rusted needle between its teeth.

I was using its free hand to thread it. I aimed my gun and I pressed down on the trigger. But the surgeon didn't care. The bullets shredded its flesh, but it continued to hold Matthews down. Its blood just congealed and went black. I'd barely even scratched it. I turned and I ran into the darkness. I know, I know, but I didn't know what to do and I needed help.

I made it to one of the open cells. I was searching for anyone, anything that could help her. The cell was empty. I ran to another one. It was empty too. I ran to the next one and here something caught my eye, something shiny and metallic. The cell was a bare rum, but in the middle was a small pedestal. with a wooden stand. Sitting on top of it was a knife, its blade was slightly curved. The steel glowed

blue even under the red lights. The handle was wrapped in cord. I reached out for it, and then I paused. The artifacts stored in this wing might be non-hostile, but they were weren't safe. They weren't things that could actively escape, but they were still dangerous. I had no idea what this thing could do. I heard a scream of pain behind me, and I cursed, grabbed the knife from its pedestal and sprinted back. And this strange feeling flooded up my arm. I saw the surgeon, still on top of Matthews. It held its needle to her face. It was saying something, whispering in her ear as it lowered the needle to her cheek. With an angry shout, I pushed the knife between its shoulder blades.

The thing screamed. It was a cry of pure fear. This thing was terrified, and I stabbed it again and again. I could feel something burning through my veins, something more than hatred. Deeper, older. I withdrew the knife, and I gutted it. Finally, something broke inside me. The bloodlust left. The thing had rotted away in seconds. A pool of its dark blood spread.

from the body. Even as we watched, it collapsed in on itself, wasting away. All right, let's move, I sat, tucking the knife into the back of my belt and avoiding eye contact with Matthews. We gotta get to the comms room. Matthews stared at me for a second, and some weird animal part of my brain expected her to bring her gun up and shoot me. My muscles tensed. I was ready to leap up and grab her. But then she turned away and started jogging down the corridor. We sprinted through the dark. Everything was silent, and then finally we saw the doors to the comms run ahead. We stopped and gathered our breath. Matthews turned to face me. If I don't make it, promise me you'll do whatever it takes, Richard. Whatever it takes, I keyed the control panel, and the door

ground open. For a second, I couldn't understand what I saw. It was so at odds with the cramped sterile tunnels of the facility that should have been there. Beyond the door was a ruined cathedral. Dust and grime and soot covered the floor. Ancient statues covered the walls. I looked upward. High above us, the vaulted ceiling had fallen in. I could see the night sky above. Everything was illuminated by a sickly crescent moon.

There were no stars. This isn't real. I said, none of this can be real. In the center of the cathedral was a raised platform. On top of it was a small pyramid that looked to be made of obsidian. Multiple silent figures worked around it. Teams of them were bringing more blocks and chiseling away at the structure. With a start, I realized they were working.

Wearing our facility uniforms. No one spoke. Everyone worked quietly, heads bent, as if in prayer. And in the middle of all this stood the prophet. We advanced slowly, guns up. Matthews aimed at the closest workers, and I aimed mine squarely at the prophet's back. Matthews, what's wrong with them? I asked. No idea, she replied. They look like they've been drugged, hypnotized maybe.

No. The voice was in my head and in the air around us. It was everywhere. It was in everything. The prophet turned to face us. It shrouded eyes. regarding us with the weight of a dying star. They will serve, even unwillingly. In their minds, they are working away at their mundane everyday goals. They cannot see the glory of what they will truly accomplish.

They shall send the call to the day. darkness, and the darkness will answer back. Let them go, I said. So, once the signal sent, and then I will allow them to freely experience the arrival of the shadow behind the stars. Matthews brought her gun up then, and fired, and with each muzzle flash, Our surroundings changed. One gunshot, and we were in a darkened control room.

Silent workers manned the communications equipment. Another gunshot, and we were back on the cathedral. Gunshot, control room, the next gunshot, back to the cathedral. The prophet didn't move, didn't even try to avoid the bullets. The shots just always miss somehow. Against all reason, they all hit the stone far behind the prophet. Matthews cursed and grabbed her last magazine. I pulled down on my own trigger.

The gunfire echoed loudly, but everything missed. The prophet raised its hand. Enough. It said. Around us, all the workers stopped what they were doing. And then they wheeled to face us one by one, looking at us with dark eyes. Wordlessly, they took one step towards us, and then another. Their hands reached out.

Matthews hit the first worker. His blood spattered on the floor, but the man simply got up and kept coming. And then that feeling went through me. I fired at the closest worker, his blood sprayed into the workers next to him, and the rest kept coming. I could hear Matthews yelling at me, but I ignored her and kept firing. Hands grabbed me from all directions, and I slammed my gun into the face of one. But there were too many. They dragged us down, and they tore our guns away. And then I felt the knife.

I looked over at Matthews, and she struggled and caught my eye. And I don't know how, but she understood the light of an idea formed in her eyes. She nodded at me. A shadow loomed as the prophet stood above us. Foolish children of a young world. It said. Matthew spat at it. The prophet froze and looked down at us.

Your suffering will be beyond imagining. The prophet leaned down, and I heard a wet crunch. Its hand passed cleanly through Matthew's skull. Anger and rage ran through me, and I struggled to get one hand free. The prophet walked over to me now. Blood coated its gloved hand. And what tricks can you do? It asked. The prophet was still for a second, and then it came closer. It bent down to bring its face close to mine. I'm waiting. It said. And right then with

all my strength, I tore my arm free. Gripping the knife, I plunged it deep into the prophet's chest. It stumbled back, its hands on the knife's handle. It didn't scream, it didn't beg, but I felt the hands release me. Just like that, everyone around me fell to the ground. Their eyes rolled up into their heads, and their mouths began to foam. The prophet was silent. Without warning, it collapsed in on itself. Empty air hissed out of the black fabric. A faint whisper reached my ears, weak and feeble,

and I can't be sure, but I think that it asked me where I got the knife. The room was silent then. The cathedral was gone. gone. I was back in the facility. Finally, it was over. I walked over to Matthew's body. Whatever it takes, I said, wiping tears away. I picked up the prophet's empty robes, and I covered her face with them. When the reinforcement team found me, I was sitting in the middle of the room, Calm and silent. They stormed in, scanning the room for threats.

Help, I half whispered. One of them called out to the others as he approached me. He lowered his gun as he recognized my uniform. Help me up, I said. The man nodded, reaching out for me. I reached up to accept his hand. It's over, I half whispered.