Lighthouse Horror Podcast - My Dad's A Retired Cop. Last Night He Told Me A Story I'll Never Forget | Scary Stories

Episode Date: August 24, 2023

There's something in the woods. Merch is now live at ⁠⁠lighthousehorror.com⁠⁠ Story from Isaac Ashley (LawstonSpace) Make sure to check out more of their work at u/LawstonSpace    ��            Original Post: Just Beyond the Headlights : r/nosleep                      Original YouTube link: My Dad's A Retired Cop. Last Night He Told Me A Story I'll Never Forget    For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Sound Effects: Freesound Zapsplat  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new scary stories, new true stories, and new creepypasta stories every day!

My dad used to be a cop. He's been retired for about five years now. And while he's usually apprehensive opening up about the old days, every now and then he'll have one too many. And I'll come home to him sitting drunk at the kitchen table. I'll say a quick hello and he'll make an effort to open up about his experiences. Normally I smile and nod while hastily making an excuse and then heading to bed. Last night, I decided to sit down with him.

always been something I've been terrified of him bringing up. However, I'm nearing my graduation from college and plan on moving out within the next month or so. Maybe that's why I sat down. I really wish I hadn't. For context, I'm going back a few years. In the fall of 2012, I was a junior in high school. My main group of friends consisted of four individuals not counting myself, Peter, Clark, Ryan, and my best friend growing up. Foster. The other three joined us around middle school, but me and Foster always maintained a special bond having known each other as young children. By high school, we all did everything together. Foster was the first to get his license and already had a car on standby for him.

Chill as his parents were, they weren't the most responsible or vigilant guardians. They were actually fairly neglectful. As a result, the moment he got his car, the gang would sneak out every week to hang out, drink a bit or smoke, you know, just be teenagers. The night everything went south was supposed to be more of the same. I jerked awake to the sound of my phone buzzing. Foster's name flashed across my screen and a smile forced its way to my face. Thought you weren't feeling it tonight. I said, Yeah, change of plans.

He replied. The sound of his voice gave me the vibe he wasn't in the best mood. Well, you call everyone else? Just you and Ryan so far. He panned. He's running over to your place and I'll pick you up together as usual. After hanging up the phone, I quickly started getting dressed while trying to remain quiet enough to not wake my dad.

Ryan lived a couple minutes down the road for me, so he usually just walked down and we were picked up together. Once I was ready, I peeked out my window to see the silhouette of someone walking up to my house. As the shadow grew closer, I quietly raised the window. I could hear the shuffling of someone climbing up the side of the house to my second-story room. The window was above the outside table on the deck, making it easy to hoist oneself onto the roof. A fist came out towards me, and I quickly grabbed it.

What the hell are you doing? I quietly scowled. Ryan leaned forward, and his pale face became illuminated by my lamp. Sorry, man. He stammered. Too focused, I guess, thought the window was closed. He carefully climbed through my window and stood up. Did Foster sound off to you?

He said. Yeah, actually, I replied. Probably just got into it with his folks. You know that old story. Well, yeah, they don't take anything seriously, said Ryan. Look, his parents are cool and all, but they sometimes just seem like kids who had a kid. that time they blacked out at that bar and just went to a hotel without telling him? What was he, like, 12 when that happened? If Foster had decided to call the cops, he would have been taken away.

I nodded sadly. As I said earlier, his parents are chill and as much as I love him. They have done many questionable things. I'm considered family, as I consider them as well. But that doesn't mean they haven't infuriated me with what Foster has been put through at times. On the night, Ryan was referring to. Foster called me and I talked to him through the night. I kept telling him to just call the police, but he wouldn't. They came home the next morning and acted like it was no big deal. I guess when you have parents like that, you either have to grow up fast or sink, I said. Ryan nodded in agreement. We waited for another 15 minutes until the headlights of Foster's car could be seen through the trees. Ryan and I left.

through the window and quietly moved through the yard. Once we were in the car, Foster continued down the road. I positioned myself in the middle of the back seat, with Ryan to my right and Peter on my left. I tapped Foster on the arm. How we feeling tonight? I heard him quietly mumble something, but I couldn't make it out. Clark in the passenger seat turned to me a bit with his lips pursed and shrugged. I leaned to Peter and whispered. His hearted. His Foster told you what's wrong? Something about his parents? He replied quietly.

When he called me, I could hear his mom saying something as he hung up, like really quick. I don't know what she said, but she didn't sound very happy. I'm sure he'll tell us at the spot. The spot we hung out at was a clearing about two miles down the road from my house. We always drove up about 500 feet from the tree line and left the headlights on to sea. With only the sound of the radio quietly buzzing, we made our way there. After parking, we all got out and Foster walked back to pop the trunk. We gathered behind the car to see him tear into one of two full cases of beer.

Damn, Foster, I said. I usually don't understand how your parents don't notice you taking a few beers from the fridge, but I think they'll notice this. Oh, that's not all, Austin. He replied. and then promptly grabbed a fifth of vodka from a paper bag. And FYI, I didn't take this from the house. I actually got it from the liquor store.

Holy shit! exclaimed Ryan. You get a fake ID? Or did you get someone to buy it for you? Foster said nothing, but smirked a bit. He then got a few plastic shot glasses out of the same bag and began setting them on the back of the now-closed trunk to pour them. Ryan turned me and asked, Did he steal him? I shrugged.

I'm not a rat, but my dad was a cop at the time. If Foster did steal all this, it did make me feel a little uncomfortable. Then again, I was 16 at the time, sneaking out to drink alcohol, so... Let's not worry about how... He said, pouring the shots. Let's just drink, and when I'm loosened up, I'll stop being a mysterious asshole. I'll take a few beers, but leave me out of the shots," said Clark. I suppose one of us should stay sober enough to drive, since I live across from Foster.

I can just drive you home last and walk to my place." Foster abided his request and left one empty shot glass. The first twenty minutes or so were mostly uneventful, so I'll skip ahead. Halfway through my second beer and with two shots of vodka in me, I was feeling pretty good. Foster had his Spotify playlist shuffling from his car as he laid on the hood looking up. I walked over and leaned on the hood next to him. So? I said, what's going on, man?

He sighed and leaned up. Well, remember earlier when we were talking and I told you I wasn't in the mood to go out? He said, lowering the music volume. I nodded. Everyone started to come closer to listen. Ryan continued walking out of the light towards the woods. Too much beer, I promise I'm listening. He said drunkenly. Foster chuckled a bit, which seemed like he was feeling at least a little better.

Well, I told Mom I wasn't going to be home until about midnight because I was hanging at your place, which was obviously a lie. I was going to the campgrounds to hang with Jessica. Yeah, hey, said Peter, taking a huge swig of beer. That's my boy. He reached a fist out to Foster, who only gave him an annoyed look. We left early because she got a call about her grandmother. She's in the hospital. So obviously, I got home much earlier than expected.

Foster continued. When I got there, I walked in on my mom and some dillard. Dude. I was mid-sip when he said this and nearly spit my beer all over me. What the hell? Ryan said from the shadows. How long does it take you to piss? yelled Clark to the direction his voice came from.

I can hear you guys talking and I got a nervous bladder. Wait, stop, I said, wiping my mouth, cutting off Ryan. You caught your mom cheating on your nose. Dad? Did you tell him?" Foster sighed. I didn't have to. He took a sip of his beer. He knows all about it. I got off the car and walked away for a second to collect my thoughts. Damn, muttered Peter. I... I don't even know what to say. In the silence, the song changed. Don't Forget Me by Red Hot Chili Peppers began playing. This would be the last song played that night.

He chugged the rest of the beer and threw it beside the car. So they finally confessed that they had an open relationship for about the past year. He was getting more frustrated and I could see tears welling up in his eyes. Why my parents, huh? If people want to do that, whatever. But why my parents? I barely spoke to them after. I just left.

I just can't believe. Why my parents? We all froze. It took a minute to realize what had happened. A voice came from the woods, mocking what Foster was saying. It was raspy, barely above a whisper, but still loud enough to be heard over the music, which was already at a fairly low volume. We all looked in front of us towards the tree line, but couldn't really see.

Barely spoke. Oh shit, said Clark, who was the closest to the front. He backed up, not taking his eyes off where the voice came from. Did anyone else see that? See what? I said. Something moved, just beyond the headlights. He replied, I strained my eyes, but still couldn't see what he was talking about.

After a moment, Foster began chuckling. I'm going to kill him, he said, sliding off of the car. It's Ryan trying to screw with us. I don't know, man, said Peter. That didn't really sound like him. Trust me, it's him. I'm going to teach that bastard that there's a time and a place for this shit." Foster angrily stomped forward and disappeared into the darkness. I could hear him pushing branches out of the way. Clark turned to me and Peter.

That wasn't Ryan. He reiterated. I turned to look where Ryan had gone. Hey, Ryan? I said, you still out there? Nothing but silence came back. The three of us just stared at one another. Then we heard shuffling. I backed up closer to Clark and Peter. The sounds grew louder as my heart pounded, not knowing what I was about to see. After a few moments, Ryan appeared, looking at his phone. I'm sorry, I got to read something on my phone and sort of zoned out.

Why are y'all looking at me like that?" We were all standing close together, staring at him in silence. He looked at the hood of the car, and then back to us. Where... Where's Foster? I turned to where Foster had walked off. Ryan came close and stood next to Peter. So what's going?

Shhh. I said. Just one. One second and we'll explain. Some more shuffling came from the woods, and then a sound. It was like someone having trouble breathing. It started quietly, then ramped up quickly. Then as fast as it started, it cut off with a loud thump as if someone was being punched.

And then something hit the forest floor. Grass began rustling, as I heard the snapping of twigs. Then the sounds grew fainter as they moved farther away. At this point, the song coming from Foster's car began skipping. Clark turned to it. Foster's phone is connected through Bluetooth. If it's skipping, then that means he's getting farther away. I walked to the car and got in on the driver's side.

The small screen indicated it was still connected. It skipped a few more times and then went silent. I cranked the volume all the way up to see if I could hear anything. But then the screen showed no Bluetooth connected. I got out of the car leaving the door open and walked back to them. His phone disconnected. I'm going to go look for him. And then all of a sudden something started to run through the woods towards us.

The three of us backed up to the car as what sounded like a little. large feet pounding against the ground grew closer. My heart rate skyrocketed once more, as a loud woosh shot from the trees in a gust of wind that nearly knocked us over. A few branches broke and fell to the ground. What the hell? shouted Ryan. What the hell happened, Wallowers?

The music from the car came blasting back at full volume, making us scream and clutch our ears. I quickly ran to the open door and reached in to turn off the music. But as soon as I did, something from above fell on the hood of the car with a loud crash. The airbag shot out, and I fell backwards as the other three began to scream. The airbag barely caught the side of my head, but it was enough to leave me briefly disoriented. The next few seconds seemed like forever. I looked down and wiped some broken glass off me. My legs felt too weak to stand, so I moved around the door and put my hand on the car to prop

myself up. My fingers touched something, so I inched my hand forward and was met with the palm of a human hand. I yelped and fell back once more. While lying there, Clark could be seen sitting up from where he'd fallen. He looked at the car in utter shock and with shaking hands, raised one in a jet. gesture to the hood. It's...

It's... It's foster. I got my movement back and shot up. I turned to the hood of the car and came closer. I could see there was definitely something lying on the car, but that wasn't enough light to see much else. I reached into my pocket without averting my vision and pulled out my phone. Clicking the flashlight button, I got a bit closer, and I saw something that paralyzed me where

I stood. Foster's unblinking eyes stared lifelessly into the sky. His hand, the one I touched, seemed to be barely attached to his arm. Nothing but a bit of flesh and tendons connected it to his arm, which seemed to be badly broken, the bone jutting out by his elbow. His right arm and the lower half of his left leg were completely gone. A bloody nub and tweed to be torn. A bloody nub and torn flesh, serving as grim reminders of what should be there. The thing that confused me was his throat. It had a deep gash cut into it, but not in an animalistic way, like the rest of his injuries. It was precise, surgical, done by someone or something that knew they were slitting a throat.

I heard gagging behind me and turned to see Ryan and Peter throwing up. Clark had just begun to get up, still shaking. I noticed then that they all had droplets of blood on them. I guess it came from Foster's impact wounds while I was leaning into the car to turn off the music. When Clark stood up, he walked over to me. I made a move to shine my light back to Foster, but he stopped me. Don't, he said. I saw his shoe.

I know it's him. I don't want to see more. We gotta get out of here." At that, Clark bolted away, followed by me. I could hear both Peter and Ryan begin running with us. Even after what I just saw, the following minutes running back to my house would become the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced. When we got a bit closer to my house, I broke off into the woods to cut through.

What are you doing? yelled Ryan, slowing down a bit. That's where that thing is, man. I didn't stop her turn. I just kept running, seeing the outside lights of my house. But I was still a ways away. Didn't know if I was making a bad decision or not, but seeing those lights gave me hope. Then, as I got a bit farther, it dawned on me that my house would be the quickest to get to.

What if they don't make it? I turned to my right and could still see them running on the road through the trees. Hey!" I shouted. Go to my house. It's quicker. Bark flew off of a tree I was running next to, and something hit my shoulder. I fell and rolled into the dirt a few seconds before abandoning my idea and continuing my run. I could see the silhouette of trees now through the moonlight and through some of the light from my house. I started to weave through them instead of just running forward. I heard movement to my left. and could feel something growing close.

Without thinking, I just dove and rolled on the ground. I felt something fly past me as I stood up and continued running. Finally, I burst through the tree line leading to my house. As I ran, I heard more branches behind me break. Whatever was chasing me was getting closer. I threw myself up the stairs to the deck, and the moment I jumped up onto the table, I tried to raise the window to my room. I didn't get it up high enough, and I hit my head on the bottom of the window.

I nearly fell back, but was able to catch myself on the bottom of the frame. I frantically pulled myself through, but as I tumbled into my room, I got my foot caught on my curtain and yanked it down as I fell. I quickly stood up and slammed my window shut. I held myself against the wall for a moment and breathed quickly. quickly, trying to catch my breath. Then I heard Dad stomping toward my room. I quickly jumped into my bed and I threw my covers up over my shoulder, shutting my eyes. I heard my door jerk open and then silence. I still had my eyes closed, expecting Dad to either try to wake

me up or just leave. But neither happened. I heard nothing, but could still feel his presence in my doorway. After a few moments of silence, I slowly began to open my eyes. I could just barely see Dad standing in the doorway, but it seemed the moonlight shining through my window was too far away to give him a clear view of my face. Watching, I saw Dad slowly raise his hand. He moved it back and forth slowly, and then stopped. I'm not really sure how long the next little bit was. All I know is that Dad stood and watched me in bed for way too long. I finally closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but I still couldn't until I heard the door

close and felt I was alone. The next morning didn't feel real. I sent a message out to everyone to see if they got home, and eventually they all replied. Dad ended up leaving after a call. I knew what it was, but I didn't say anything. Over the course of the next week, this is what was learned. Foster was found by a hunter around 7 a.m. Once police were on the scene, the entire area was roped off.

The alcohol in the car was traced back to the liquor store down the road from Foster's. Apparently, he stole it by breaking the window to the basement storage. I put on as good of a performance as I could when Dad told me. I was devastated about Foster, but I didn't want Dad knowing I was there. Now that it was over, the pain of losing my oldest friend hit me like a truck. The police, however, tweaked the story a bit, as to not cause a commotion in our town by declaring it a bare attack and not publicizing all of Foster's wounds. I assume the hunter was paid off to not say what Foster looked like when he was found.

When we all returned to school, our dynamic immediately seemed off between the four of us. We had this huge secret we couldn't tell and felt unsure if anyone would even believe us anyway. For a while, I thought at least one of us would be brought in for questioning, but no one ever was. In addition, I have a crippling fear of the woods now. I think the police investigated other attacks done by whatever had been with us that night, because Dad made it a rule to not go in the woods alone. But that didn't matter. I haven't been there alone or with anyone else since.

It never was much of an issue before, but I replaced my torn curtain immediately the next day as staring out into the woods was paralyzing to me now. Clark, Ryan, and Peter are still close to me. But ever since Foster died, we've never quite been the same. I've never even openly talked about it since. Until last night. I sat across from Dad with a knot in my chest, waiting to see what he had to say. He gripped the beer bottle in front of him. After a moment, He stood, walked over to the fridge and grabbed two more beers while throwing the empty one away. After opening both, he sat back down and slid one to me.

I want to talk to you about Foster, he said. He took a gulp of his beer and continued. Just so you know, I'm well aware you guys snuck out from time to time. I figured as long as you got to school and didn't do anything. dangerous. What's the harm? I knew you were a good kid. I thought if I came down too hard, you just sneak out twice as much and do more dangerous things. You never got hurt and always did well in school, and I thought it might be good for you to have a bit of that freedom, so you don't go crazy when you have all of it. Yeah, I knew you snuck out. I also know you were with

Foster the night he died. My heart skipped a beat. I reached out and took a sip of my beer. How... How do you know? I mean, that I was with Foster. He didn't reply immediately. He stared at me with this sad look on his face for a moment before taking another drink and continuing. I heard a loud crash in your room.

I figured you just gotten home from doing whatever. But then I heard something else. It sounded like something running on the roof. But the sound itself seemed to be coming from the side of the house, not on top. I ran to your room, and when I burst open the door, I saw it. No, I said. That thing wasn't in the room with me. There's no way.

You're right, he said. It wasn't in your room. It was hanging on to the house, looking in through your window. I didn't really know how to react to this information. My mouth slowly hung open as I waited for him to continue. All I saw was the silhouette of what I thought was a man, but then I noticed it had these rounded things behind it. It dawned on me that those were wings, and it had these huge bright yellow eyes.

It stared at me, and I just remember not being able to move. I didn't know what to do if I should wake you or not. I'm not even sure if I blinked. And then its wings slowly moved out, and it backed away from the window, just floating there. lowered its arms and straightened its legs a bit more, I was confused at first, but then I realized it was copying me. He reached out and took another gulp of his beer. When he sat it down, he wiped his eyes, which caused me to notice he was tearing up a bit.

It wasn't making any noise, he said. Somehow it let go of the wall and just floated back without actually flying. and just made no noise. I raised my hand up, and it did the same. I moved it back and forth. And it did the same. I finished his thought. I took a large swig of my beer. I was awake, I whispered. I never knew why you stood there for so long. I wish I still didn't. I'm not done, Austin. I looked up at him. He was staring at me with a determined look. He seemed less drunk now, as if talking about this, was sobering him up a little. I didn't leave your room until I saw it fly

away. When I left later that morning, I got some trail cameras, and I put them around the property. I only watched them once. That was all I needed. I leaned forward in my chair. What did you see? After the first night, I woke up early in the morning to check the footage. The only camera that caught anything was the one I put on that dead tree next to the creek. At the start of the video, there was a person, a naked man facing away from the camera. He walked forward and then backwards to where he started. Then he looked like he was miming, shaking hands.

And then his voice began shaking. And then its shoulder blades opened. These fleshy-looking wings came out of the slits as its skin seemed to change form to make it more inhuman. I mean the video was black and white. But the change was very noticeable. Once the wings were fully out. It flew away.

I never looked at any of them again. I know I was a cop, but nothing can prepare you for that. I think the worst part was that it seemed like it was practicing human mannerisms to blend in. At that, he turned his bottle up and finished his beard. I'm sorry about Foster, but I'm glad it wasn't you. I'm also sorry if it seems weird that I told you all this. Perhaps it is. I don't know. Leaving the empty bottle on the table, he stood up and made his way to the stairs. Once the top

was reached, he turned to me one last time. Good night, Austin. I love you. You. Even though he went to bed, I stayed in my seat for a while, processing what I just heard. He'd clearly wanted to tell me this for a long time. Even so, I had the feeling he'd regretted in the morning. I thought about how lucky I was that that thing didn't find me. Or did it. I went up to my room and for the first time since that night drew back the curtain.

The tree line could be seen, just barely illuminated by the full moon. Gazing into the night. I wondered if something was gazing back at me. Whatever that thing is, it wants to look and act like us. That much is obvious. Could it be among my hometown, looking as human as what we see in the mirror? Or is it still out there? Lurking behind me.

the trees shrouded by the forest, just waiting, watching, and practicing.