Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I'm An Exterminator. I Get Rid Of Unusual Problems | Scary Stories

Episode Date: March 16, 2024

I wasn't ready.       Story from Head of Spectre Make sure to check out more of their work at u/HeadOfSpectre  Cover Art from Ruud Geerards                 Original Post: The Maenad : r/HeadOfSpectre  Original YouTube link: I'm An Exterminator. I Get Rid Of Unusual Problems           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've been hunting vampires for six years now. Then I used to think I was pretty good on it. Then again, if you're a trained killer like me, vampires aren't all that different from anything else. There's a lot of misconceptions about them. People seem to think they've got magical powers or can only be killed in certain ways. Sunlight.

A stake to the heart. Stuff like that. None of it is necessarily true. Sunlight doesn't actually do much to them. It doesn't burn their skin or make them weaker. Their eyes are more attuned to low-like conditions, so the only thing it does is make it ever so slightly harder for them to see. Garlic doesn't do anything either.

They're a little more sensitive to smell, I guess, but they're no more put off by garlic than anyone else. Oh, and crosses? Don't even bother. The only reason people think vampires are afraid of crosses. is because most of the groups who've hunted them throughout history were Catholic. They don't actually have any effect on them. If you throw up a cross at a vampire, the only thing that'll do is buy you a few seconds

as your soon-to-be killer laughs in your face. So then, how do you kill a vampire? However the hell you want. Sure, a lot of the old myths aren't true, but that's a two-way street. Vampires can't turn into bats, they can't hypnotize you, fly or anything like that. Not naturally anyways. There's a few out there who figured out how to use magic to make themselves even stronger. But for most vampires, the only leg they have up on you and may is that they're a little bit

stronger, a little bit faster, and they don't age. Other than that, you can kill them just as easily. as you can kill anything else. Shoot it in the head, slit its throat, put a stake through its heart if you really want to. It doesn't matter how you do it, so long as you confirm the kill.

Me personally? I'm simple. I put two bullets in their head and I call it a day. That's more than enough for your average vampire. You pop them in the head and call it a day. Easy peasy lemon squeezing. It's the ones who use magic you should be afraid of. And even then, I'd killed a few of those, too.

They were tricky, but they always slipped up. Always. I didn't think the mine ad would be any different. I got the call from Edward Kelly about three days ago. He didn't say much, only that something big was going down in San Francisco. The way he talked about it, it sounded like an all-year-old. hands-on-deck type situation. The organization I work for has been hunting things like this for a very, very long time. They don't put out calls like this for just anyone. I knew this wasn't something

I could ignore. So, I told Kelly I'd be in San Fran within the next day or so, and I kept my word. Sure enough, the day after I'd arrived, he sent me an email with a location and a time. The location turned out to be the conference room of a fairly inexpensive hotel just outside of town. When I got there on the day of the meeting, there were already five other guys present, not including Kelly himself. They were already seated. A couple of them were people I only knew by their last names. It wasn't good business to know too much besides that. The rest were strangers.

Kelly stood at the head of the table, waiting for me to close the door before he spoke. Ah, Mr. Moore, I'm glad you could join us. I gave him a polite nod before taking an empty seat between the two men I recognized. One of them, Mr. Boyer, returned my nod. The other one, Mr. Streeter, barely even acknowledged me. Gentlemen, thank you for joining me here today. Kelly began.

I understand. I may have called some of you from a considerable distance away, but considering our target. I thought it necessary to have some of the best working on this with me. This one here is the real deal. Not one of those mosquitoes you'll find picking up their prey at a bar. Kelly surveyed us as he spoke. The man looked like a grumpy brick wall on the best days. But as he inspected us, I understood the solemn urgency in his gaze. If this vampire was half as bad as he said, then he probably needed to be sure he was bringing the right people. We'll need to be clever with this one, he continued. She and her sisters were the ones behind the Venice Massacre back in the 1650s. She's dangerous. She's cunning. And she won't

Don't go quietly." We're dealing with the Venetian? Boyer asked. You're talking about the Dai Chays rays, right? They're still alive? Very much so, Kelly replied. They pop on and off our radar, but they're rarely ever in a place we can get to them. In four hundred years, we've only ever managed to kill one.

One. Out of thirteen, can't say it's much of a track record. But now we've got ourselves a rare opportunity, and Grandmaster Ivory gave us the March and Orders himself. God willing, we'll be able to strike another one off the list tonight. Which one is it exactly? I asked. What exactly should we expect to be up against?

They call her Ayrus the Marys the Marys. Mynad. She's something of a follower of Dionysus, in case the name didn't tip you off. Can't say we've got a hell of a lot of intel on her, so be prepared for anything. Before they became vampires, most of the Venetians were part of a coven of witches, and they've just grown smarter over the centuries. Call it a hunch, but my gut tells me we're going to need a little more than a simple bullet to the head for her. Ha, not a problem. One of the others said,

All we need to know is where she'll be. Kelly shot the man a death glare before he started speaking again. As of tomorrow night, she'll be at a club called the Twelve Underground. That'll be our window, he said. The Twelve Underground, I'd passed by. on my previous visits to San Francisco, although I'd never been inside. That kind of thing wasn't really my scene, but I'd seen the advertisements for it. It wasn't much more than a seedy bar that mostly hosted no-name bands, and bands that usually

opened for actual headliners. Honestly, it probably wasn't a bad place to find a vampire, but it was an even better place to find a mine ad. Uh, so I'm gonna assume we got to... A plan?" Boyer asked. He sat comfortably beside me, sounding more curious than concerned. A witch that old, probably using some sort of protection spell. I thought it was safe to assume so, Kelly said, before looking towards Streeter near the end

of the table. Which is why I had Mr. Streeter here do a little bit of prep work. Mr. Streeter? There's a charity show on at the Twelve Underground tomorrow night," Streeter said. At around eleven, there'll be a break as the first band finishes their set and the second one sets up. During that time, she'll be on stage promoting their sponsor and she'll be vulnerable. Given her experience, it's likely she'll be using an attribution spell. Shoot or stab her and the wound appears on you.

instead. Since we don't know where on her body the ruin might be carved, the safest bet is to avoid harming her directly. So, I've taken the liberty of arranging for a little surprise to be placed underneath a stage before she gets on there. We'll be able to detonate it remotely. And blow the bitch to hell. Kelly finished. Now, I'm going to be righteously paranoid and assume that that's not going to kill her outright. But it should at least wound her enough so we can find a way to finish the job? And in case anything goes wrong, you all remember your training? Much as I'd rather not fight something like this out in the open, at least we'll have a better chance as a group. Yeah, but what about the collateral?

One of the others asked. There'll be other people in that club. All I'm I shifted to him. Son, this is a high-value target. Do you have any idea how dangerous the die-chaise-rays are? Kelly asked. They've been loose for 4,000 years, and they've left entire nations of corpses in their wake. Do you think they give half a shit about collateral? Because I can assure you they do not.

If we fail here, then we won't get another chance. Not only will she rip us limb from bloody limb, she'll be in the wind for the next few centuries. We know where she'll be. We have her here and now. So to answer your question, I don't give a shit about the collateral. The collateral is necessary. Now are you going to pull up your freely panties, be a man, and do the job that needs to be done, Mr. Thompson? Or are you going to whine to me about collateral damage?

I saw Thompson recoil a little at what Kelly said, but he didn't utter another word of protest. Satisfied, Kelly returned his attention to us. Now, do we have any other questions? other concerns." Nobody else spoke. Good. When the explosive detonates, I want you all armed. Assuming she's still alive, move to subdue, but don't go for a kill shot.

Not unless we've confirmed there's no attribution spell active. Once she subdued, we move her out of the building and under the street. be taken her to a designated meat in place on the east end where we'll be able to safely burn her. Are we clear? Some of the others nodded. As did I. Considering the reputation the Venetians had, the plan did sound fairly solid. Hell.

It almost sounded easy. Kelly took a step back from the table, satisfied that we were all on the same page. Good. Tomorrow night then. Seven o'clock. Be prepared. With that? We were done.

I made it to the Twelve Underground a half hour before we were due to meet up. I wasn't the only one who was early either. I could see Streeter by the bar dressed down to blend in and mingling as if he belonged there. And I could see Thompson in a booth on the other side of the club. I didn't speak to either of them. Instead, I ordered myself a beer and found a table. Watching as the rest of the team trickled in. Kelly set himself up a few tables down from May, but didn't so much as give me a look.

That was just standard operating procedure, though. Best not to make it too obvious that we knew each other. As the first amateur band came up on stage, I spent most of my time looking at my phone with mild disinterest. I nursed my beer through the night, and even though I knew that I knew. Kelly would disapprove, I allowed myself to have a second. I figured a slight buzz might calm my nerves. I'd killed more than my fair share of vampires before. But I also won't pretend that their reality of going up against one of the Venetians didn't scare me a little.

I'd heard the stories about them. Our organization first ran into them back in the 1600s. When they killed some vampire by the name of Dai Chaseray, he'd been some merchant working out of Venice, back when Venice was still its own republic. Unfortunately, whoever had killed him hadn't done a very thorough job. Not only was Di Chaseray's widow also a vampire, but she apparently wasn't too happy about her husband's death. So, in retaliation, she'd hired herself a small army of soldiers, and retaliated. She'd stormed our organization's Venetian headquarters, and in doing so, found herself a coven of twelve witches they'd captured.

They'd called themselves the Zodiac sisters, each one supposedly representing a different sign of the Zodiac. But from what I've heard, they really weren't that notable. Just a bunch of young women meeting in the woods to play with the occult simply because they could. Nowadays, we wouldn't trouble ourselves with something like that. But back then, they had a different attitude towards that sort of thing. Maybe it was the grief of losing her husband that made her do it.

Maybe she recognized those witches as kindred spirits who wanted revenge just as badly as she did. Maybe it was something else entirely. Nobody really knows. But Dai Chaseray's widow offered them the same curse she had. She offered them vampirism, and they'd taken it. All 12 of them, and in doing so, they became her daughters, bound in blood. Together, they'd run rampant through the Venetian Republic, butchering the knights of our organization until the canals of Venice ran red with their

blood. In the end, they'd driven them out entirely, hence why some of us simply referred to them as the Venetians. When Venice felt to Napoleon near the end of the 18th century, our people returned, and when they did, they came back in force, looking for some revenge for the Venice massacre. They even managed to kill one of the sisters, Gemini. Although they never so much as laid a finger on any of the others. Eventually, it was determined that Dai Chaseray's widow and her daughters had abandoned Venice. And, sure enough, a few decades later, they turned up in Brazil exporting precious metals. Our organization had tried to go after them, but everyone they sent either came back in a box or didn't come back at all. And the rest is history.

These days, most people associate the Dai Chaseray name with the jewelry house they own, and the Dai Chaseray sisters are, for the most part, in the wind. Their mother runs the business, and they just run rampant, doing whatever it is they want. After all, who's going to stop them? Like Kelly said, in 400 years, we'd only ever manage to kill one. I was confident in his plan for the mine ad, of course, but I also wasn't stupid enough to believe that there was no chance this could all go horribly wrong. All we needed was one little mistake, and we'd all be dead.

I knew that. So what was one more beer, right? As the show went on, I scanned the crowd. The others were scattered around, waiting for errands. die-chaseray to show her face and at around the 10.30 mark, I finally spotted her. She was standing near the bar, watching one of the bands perform with a beer in her hand. She had long, dark hair tied back into a ponytail, and what I can only describe as a punk or goth aesthetic. She wore a weathered black band tea with a button-down flannel t-shirt tied around her waist and

ripped black leggings. Her lipstick was black, as was her eye shadow, although she bounced and swayed to the music, as if she was having the time of her life. She barely even seemed to be able to stop herself from dancing. This was not exactly what I'd envisioned, when I'd heard we'd be hunting one of the Venetians. For God's sake, she barely looked old enough to drink, but I recognized her from a photograph I'd seen on the website promoting this event. This was Aris Dijaysay, all right. I was certain of it. After getting herself another drink, she left the bar, heading in my direction.

She moved with an exuberant bounce in her step and paused only briefly to mingle with a few people, but moved with purpose. As she got closer to my table, I tried not to stare, although I guess looking down at my beer attracted her attention anyways. A pair of black canvas sneakers had the laces done up in an odd pentagram pattern, stopped by my table, and a cheerful voice spoke to me. Hey, you doing all right? I don't think I've seen you around here before, she said over the music,

pausing to lean in against my table. I looked up at her and forced a smile. My eyes darted toward the tattoo of the Aries sign on the inside of her right wrist. Further proof that she was one of the sisters. Yeah, yeah, I'm doing great, I said. You? Fantastic. She replied.

Hell of a show we've got tonight. I hope you enjoy it. And let me know if you need anything, okay? You work here? I asked. I own here, she replied, tipping me a wink. Oh, wow. It's a nice place you've got here, then.

Yeah, it's a cozy little living, she said. Can't say I hate it, music, parties every night. The good outweighs the bad, if you ask me. Plus, it's nice to support a good cause every once in a while. Right, I thought. This was a charity show, wasn't it? Yeah, yeah, it's great, I said. Live music, good cause.

Yeah. She tilted her head slightly as she sized me up. Her smile never fading. Stop by the bar later. I'll set you up with a refill on the house, okay? She said. And thanks again for coming out tonight. With that, she was gone, heading towards the stage.

I checked my phone, 10 minutes until 11. She'd be making her announcement soon. I swallowed down the last of my beer and waited. My gun was in its holster. I was as ready to go as I was going to get. As the last band finished their set, the MC who'd been introducing the various bands came up again. All right, ladies and gentlemen,

give it up for the Alien Island. And let's hear it. The people who had actually been listening to that awful music clapped and cheered. But I got the feeling that it was more out of pity than anything else. Up next, we've got the November boys to close things out tonight. But before we get to that, we wanted to give a very special thank you to Eris Dai Chayserang for helping us put this on and letting us use this space. Please, everybody, give her a bit of a bit.

big round of applause, he said. The applause this time was a little more enthusiastic as Aris took the stage, waving as she bounded towards the MC and took the mic from him. Thank you. Thank you so much. You guys are being way too kind. Really, I should be thanking you for coming out tonight and supporting homes for the homeless. It's a fantastic organization and one that's made some real change in the

in the community. So come on, give yourselves a round of applause. Predictably, the crowd loved that. An Ere seemed to drink up their enthusiasm. Behind her, I could see some of the roadies switching out the instruments. One of them set a guitar beside her. Oh, God. Was she going to sing? I hoped that Kelly would detonate that damn bomb before she started singing. I looked over in his direction to see him sitting at the same table, although his brow was furrowed in frustration. He was looking down at something. The detonator, maybe? Was something wrong? Yeah, you guys are awesome, Eris continued. But before we continue, I wanted to call out some special guess we've got here. A number of boys who were so kind to make the trek out for the time.

from all across the west coast. Let me name some names here. Mr. Joseph Boyer! Across the venue, I saw Boyer sit upright at the mention of his own name. His eyes suddenly went wide, and I felt the sinking dread in my stomach. Kelly looked up as well, and even in the low light, I could see the color draining from his face. Mr. Brad Smith, Mr. Arthur Casey, Mr. James Streeter, Mr. Troy Moore. My name. My blood froze in my veins, as I felt heiress looking right at me.

And lastly, but most importantly, Mr. Edward Kelly, give these stalwart idiots a round of applause. Let's go. The crowd applauded, as if she hadn't just singled out the six of us. Kelly stood up, detonator in his hand. He kept pressing the button, but nothing happened. Aw, did I make you mad? Eris asked, grinning from ear to ear. Come on, chuckles.

Push that big red button and blow me straight back. to hell. She paused, then tilted her head to the side. Not working, is it? From the crowd, I watched a man begin to climb up on stage and paused as I recognized him. Mr. Thompson, the only one of us that Arias hadn't named. You should choose your friends more carefully, Eddie, she said, holding the bag up like a trophy. Rookie mistake.

Kelly just stared at her in disbelief. His eyes shifted to Thompson at her side. Looking into his eyes, I could see that he knew we were already dead. The crowd just stared, slack-jawed up at Eris as she spoke, oblivious to the gravity of anything she said. I saw him going for his gun, and I heard one gunshot ring out. The audience didn't move. They barely even reacted. Kelly stumbled backward, clutching at his shoulder.

He looked over toward the bar where Streeter stood defiantly, a gun aimed at Kelly. Kind of sad, actually, Eris said. But hey, you tried your best, right? Now sit back and enjoy the show. I saw her toss the microphone aside. and reach for the guitar. She dragged her nails across the strings, eliciting a sinister hissing noise. Her eyes settled on Kelly again, as she began to play. She strummed fast, her fingers moving violently across the fretboard. The music she played hurt my head. It didn't

sound like any music a guitar would make. It was hard to say exactly what it sounded like. More like a flute of some sort, I guess. Although even that was stretching it. I can't imagine how anyone could play a flute quite like that. The ear-splitting sound of it made me flinch and scream as I clapped my hands over my ears. I tried to focus on her, but my vision was already going blurry. Looking at the guitar in her hands, I thought I could see some kind of ornate room carved onto it. But it was hard to make out.

I could taste blood in my mouth and the pain in my head was splitting. I could hear Eryl laughing over the music, and as I struggled to pull myself out of my chair, I could see the crowd moving. The people around us started to dance only. The dancing was wrong. I don't know how else to describe it. I'd never seen anything like this before, not from a witch or from a vampire. Their bodies jerked like puppets on a string.

They ground up against each other like animals. Eris kept strumming at that guitar, eyes on us all the while. I could see Boyer trying to push his way through the crowd to get to the door, but they were grabbing at him. Eris's attention turned on him. The music changed in pitch slightly as the dancers pulled him back, and then I watched as they started to pull Boyer apart. He screamed all the while as they tugged at his limbs, pulling at him. I didn't think they could actually hurt him, but I saw him begin to break.

I saw the fabric of his shirt ripping and stained. with blood. I could see the skin stretching. His face was turning red as he screamed in agony. Those screams almost drowned out that terrible music. Aris was laughing again. One of the other men who'd come in with us, either Casey or Smith, broke through the crowd a few feet away from Boyer. He stumbled against the bar, and I saw two men race after him. Casey or Smith tumbled as he tried to get away from them, and they overtook him. They tackled him to the ground, and I heard him scream as they sank their teeth into his skin. One of them bit into his cheek and ripped away an entire chunk.

Eris kept playing. The sound just got faster and more chaotic, barely even resembling music anymore. It sounded more like a maddening, drawing. droning. I took one last look at Boyer, just in time to see the crowd rip one of his arms from his body. I couldn't look anymore. Thompson had leaped off the stage and into the crowd, joining in the madness. I'd lost track of Streeter as well. I could hear the screams of the other man we'd brought with us as he met some horrible fate I couldn't see, and I was grateful that I didn't have to watch him die. I looked over to where Kelly had been, and I saw him bracing himself

against the table, struggling to stand. Up until then, my feet had been frozen to the ground, but upon seeing him, I finally found the strength to run again. I raced to his side to help him up, but Kelly swatted me off. I could hear a low, manic, giggling noise, and it took me a moment to realize that it was coming from him. His head turned toward me, and I took a step back, my pulse spiking in my chest as I saw the state he was in. Trickles of blood ran from his eyes and ears, but he was wearing a grin I'd never seen on him before. The gun still hung limply in his hand. He stared at me, smiling that dopey smile of his. I watched him take his free hand and jab a finger into the bullet wound in his shoulder.

The sight of it made me flinch, but he didn't even react to the pain. Instead, he just twisted the finger around, then ripped it out. He brought his bloody finger to his lips, then traced a line up each of his cheeks, giving himself a crude, bloody smile. Better look next time, he said. His voice unable to hide the trembling fear he felt, still smiling, but with tears in his eyes. I watched him raise the gun to his chin. Wait, wait, no. I reached out to try and stop him, but he'd already pulled the trigger. I watched Gore erupt from the back of his head to stain the wall behind him. His eyes rolled over into his skull as he collapsed hard to the ground. I've seen death before, but watching Kelly blow his own

brains out. It made me freeze like nothing else ever had. I could hear Eris's fingernails scratching against the strings again. Her laughter drowned out every other sound, and finally, The music changed. Some other band was playing now. Although they didn't sound much better, the music at least sounded like music. The chaos around me didn't stop. Some of the people were eating one of the bodies. An heiress stood atop the stage, drinking in the madness.

She let the guitar drop to the ground, before fixating her eyes on me. And then, like a tiger. I watched her leap into the crowd, pushing through it to reach me. I started running again, the music following me as I fled. I made it past the crowd into the door. I almost made it up the stairs and out onto the street, but then I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. Eris pulled me back, slamming me against the wall, and grinning. Hey there, champ. Where's the fire? She asked. I went for my gun.

I knew there was a chance that shooting her would kill me, but I didn't care. It was worth a try. Before I could raise it to her head, she caught me by the wrist. My finger slipped on the trigger, firing a bullet into the ceiling. But Aris didn't even flinch. She just stared me dead in the eye. You know, I'm going to pretend you didn't just do that, she said. You really should be a little more polite, considering how nice I've been to you.

Go to hell, I spat. Her smile didn't falter. Actually, I think the words you're looking for are thank you. You know, I could have had them tear you apart like they did with your friends back there. But I always think it's better to leave at least one survivor, you know, to tell the story. I'll bet your friends will love it. Why? To stroke your own sick ego?

I said. Trying and failing to sound brave. No. Never, she said. All right, maybe a little. But that's not the main point. I've actually got a message for whoever's pulling the strings in your little operation. So put your listening ears on, please.

Please. You ready? She leaned in, pressing her mouth to my ear. You only still exist because we allow it. So don't provoke us. She pulled back, her playful smile having darkened, into something far more sinister. I stared at her as I trembled. Now, go on, get out of here.

I've got to check how many donations we got. You really should support the charity. It's a pretty good cause, you know. Oh, oh, and before you go. She paused and snapped her fingers twice. From the crowd came Mr. Thompson, disheveled, and with a shirt covered in blood. He held an unopened bottle of beer in his hand. I promised you one in the house.

She said, taking the beer from him and pushing it into my hand. She patted me on the shoulder, and with that, she turned to leave. The bottle slipped out of my hand and shattered on the ground at my feet. I stood still for a few moments, still shaking and breathing heavily. Then when my composure finally returned. I started up the stairs again, burst out onto the street, and kept running until my legs wouldn't carry me any further. My organization spent the next two days debriefing me, trying to understand where it all went

wrong. The bodies of Kelly, Smith, Casey, and Boyer were never found. Streeter and Thompson both seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. I think I'm the only one who knows what happened that night. Well, the only one aside from Eryce. From the way they spoke to me, I got the impression they expected me to just sleep this all off like a bad hangover and get back to work. But I'm not that stupid.

I can't just forget the things I saw that night. I won't just forget them. They might not listen to Eress's warning, but I will. I've sent in my resignation effective immediately. I'm done with vampires.