Three Spooky Ghost Storieshttps://www.creepypastascarystories.com/creepypasta/three-spooky-ghost-stories/Half-Head
by RagtimeOutlawBrian's Here
by JdescheneThe Final Whistle
by MatthewAnderson707BACKGROUNDCoastal Thunderstorm Amongst the Redwoods
Sandcastle Ambience
SPOOKY BOO RHODES
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vRiQNjWAtITRANSCRIPTGood evening, it's Spooky Boo Rhodes from Sandcastle, California. Tonight I have for you 3 spooky ghost stories from the creepypasta library. This month I'm featuring my Sandcastle Horror book which is available in paperback, PDF format, or on Kindle. For details on how you can get a signed or regular copy, visit my website at www.scarystorytime.com.
Now let's begin...
Half-Head
by RagtimeOutlaw
When I was twelve in the summer of 1969, my family and I moved to a small white house in the middle of Caryville, Wisconsin so my mother could be closer to her parents. The house itself was rather unimpressive; it was a normal, white board house built in the mid-nineteen twenties, with no spooky atmosphere or any other haunted house crap. It was just a house. To be honest, I do not remember anything actually happening in the house until I was fifteen, when my older sister brought home a new boyfriend, Martin Keller.
From the start, I did not like him, because he was the type of person who believed in spirits and psychics. He even claimed at one point that a spirit had told him that he would sire a child who would be “baptized in blood and rise to rule a world of madness, because it was the will of an ancient god.” Just normal 70s weirdo mumbo-jumbo from an idiot. Anyway, one night Martin thought it would be fun to bring an old-fashioned planchette to the house in an attempt to conjure spirits to tell us the future. For hours, he and my sister sat in our living room trying to call forth the same spirit that had apparently told him about the evil child. After a while, they gave up and started making out on the couch until, much to their amazement, the planchette actually moved on its own accord.
I remember my sister almost tearing my bedroom door off the hinges just to drag me into the living room to see what the spirit had to say. At first, I accused Martin of somehow manipulating the planchette, until he stood and walked over to me. The three of us sat down around the table and began asking the spirit questions. Mostly we asked the usual: who are you, what do you want, who will I marry, and so forth. Eventually the spirit announced that they had to leave. However, its farewell message will be forever burned into my mind: “I’ll be seeing you, Jack.” That was it, nothing more except that it would be seeing me. I did not sleep for three days after that.
Months went by with nothing happening, but for some reason, I could never shake the feeling that someone or something was constantly watching me. At first, I would get the feeling that someone was watching me from far away while I was outside or walking to school, like whomever it was was sitting in a far-off tree with binoculars. Over the next couple of weeks, I began to feel like it was getting closer to me.
One night in November, I was up late working on some homework when I got the feeling that someone was outside watching me thorough my bedroom window. I remember working up the courage to walk over to the window and look into the backyard. Sure enough, someone was there. It was a tall man in what looked like a suit with a cigarette in his mouth, standing motionless next to the fence at the far end of the backyard. What made it even worse was that I could not see the man’s face, just his shadow and the glow of the cigarette. I jumped back from my window and tore downstairs to the kitchen where my parents were playing poker with some friends. I told them what I saw and my father stepped outside, but found no one. My parents and their friends all laughed it off, saying I was tired and overworked and that I should get some sleep. I nodded and went back to my room, but I still could not get the image of the man out of my mind.
Each day after that, it felt as if the man was stepping closer and closer to the house. Then, one night during an electrical storm, I saw him, literally right outside the window. I looked directly at him as a flash of lightning illuminated my room. The top of the man’s head was missing from the top jaw up, cigarette resting awkwardly on what remained of his bottom lip. I stared frozen in absolute terror at him for what seemed like hours until a pale white hand hit against the windowpane with a gut wrenching slap, almost as if someone had thrown raw meat against it. I screamed, and a strange garbled laugh filled my head. Suddenly, my sister and parents burst into my room, and the man was gone, but the laugh still echoed through my mind.
My parents wrote off what I saw as a nightmare, but installed aluminum blinds to prevent any more boogeymen with bifurcated heads from peeking in. They thought it would help me feel better, but I was outraged; I was not some little kid anymore and what I saw was no nightmare. I could not get my parents to believe me, but my sister did. She offered to let me sleep in her room for a while. I declined because I felt it was weird and told her it would be fine. Besides, it was impossible for me, or the man, to see through the blinds.
I regretted my decision almost immediately. That night, I awoke to the sound of something tapping on my window. I told myself to ignore it and curled up under my covers until I realized the tapping was coming from the inside. I froze, and my heart dropped into my stomach. He was in the room with me. I slowly peeked out from my covers to find nothing in the room. I then noticed that the overhead vent in the room was making the blinds tap against the glass. I let out a sigh of relief and rolled over, only to find out what the inside of a human mouth and throat looks like.
I tried to scream as the man slowly stood and leant over me, but the only sound that would escape my mouth was a pathetic squeak. I watched as his tongue began to writhe, and a strong voice bubbled out, “I. See. You. Jack.” I wanted to bolt out of bed and run, but I found I was frozen in place. “I. See. You. Jack. Jacky, Jacky boy I see you, I seeeeeeee you.” The man pointed to the opposite side of the bed. I turned to see what he was pointing at, and to my abject horror, the top half of his head was resting on the pillow next to me. “I seeeeeeeeeeee yoooooooooouuu, I seeee youuuu.” the voice laughed repeatedly, and then I blacked out.
That is it, no surprise ending or anything. I never saw the half-head man again after that. My sister ended up leaving Martin later that year; she said she couldn’t be with someone who had cursed her brother like that. I’m not sure what happened to Martin in the years to come. I think at one point I read that he was killed in a botched robbery at his home in the fall of 2000. However, my youngest nephew has been claiming that he sees the man at night. I do not think it means anything, but it still makes me wonder.
Brian's Here
by Jdeschene
"Dad, Brian's here!" said Jamie as she bounded down the stairs.
"Oh, really?" her father asked. "I didn't hear the bell."
She rolled her eyes. "You never do."
Her father smiled and gave a little chuckle. "Well, if Brian's here," he said, "then you'd better let him in."
Jamie twisted the knob and pulled the door open. There stood her best friend in the whole world. He was a little boy with golden hair that fell all around his face in little baby curls. Every time she saw his hair, Jamie remembered gleefully the day they met and how she'd mistaken him for a girl. "I'm no girl!" he'd exclaimed, and as soon as the confusion had cleared up, they were the best of friends.
Jamie nearly yanked Brian into the house. "We're going to go upstairs, Dad," she called.
"Okay," said Jamie's father. "Hi, Brian. Nice to see you again." He waved and smiled.
"Hi, Mr. Davis," Brian said, returning the wave. And with that, they headed up to Jamie's room.
Once there, Jamie grabbed her new gaming cards from her dresser and promptly began to lay them out on the floor. She had been waiting to show them to Brian for a whole week, and now that he was finally here, she could hardly contain herself. "Let me show you what I got!" she eagerly exclaimed. "You're going to love them!" Brian sat down across from her, and for the first few minutes of his visit, Jamie was so wrapped up in describing each card that she didn't notice how quiet he had been.
"What do you think?" she asked at the end of her show and tell session.
"That's all pretty great," was Brian's response. It had come with a notable lack of any passion or excitement whatsoever.
It was then that Jamie looked up at her friend and noticed that something was wrong. The boy, normally so energetic and connected, sat with his eyes cast down and not so much as a hint of a smile on his face. "Brian," she inquired, "what's the matter?"
He hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and said, "I have something to tell you, Jamie. It's kind of good news, but kind of not."
Jamie felt a hot chill run through her whole body. At last, she found her words. "What is it?" she asked.
Brian brought his eyes up to meet hers. "I have to leave here," he said. "I'm going to go live with my mom soon."
The sadness of his announcement hit Jamie hard, but she struggled to keep her composure. “Why?” she asked.
“My dad said so,” Brian explained. “He was upset one day and said, ‘You need to go be with your m

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

Saturdays are for relaxing. I also find them the slowest days on the podcast so I will continue to do the Saturday repeats. Expect these stories to be a year or older and from a previous show.Tonight on SplatterdayNightmares.com I am showing Trilogy of Terror at 6:00 PM Pacific as a premiere and then it will roll over to the live chat once the movie is over until about 8:30 PM. It should be fun. Hopefully we'll see you there.****TRANSCRIPTThis is a repeat of a previous show.Good evening. This is Spooky Boo coming to you from Sandcastle, California. Tonight I have for you some very spooky ghost stories from the Creepypasta libraries. After listening to these you might wonder if they're true or not, and as with many creepypasta stories, we do wonder if they are true. I'll let you be the judge and when you're finished listening, let me know in the comments what you think about these stories and if they may or may not be true.
First, I'd like to thank my listeners and Patreon members including madjoe, PA Nightmares, Ivy Iverson, John Newby, Patrick, and 933TheVolt.com. If you would like to support the show, visit my Patreon page at www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime or my website at www.scarystorytime.com/support. It is also very helpful if you click on that share button and share with your friends on your favorite social media platform.
Now let's begin...
All the Papers Lied TonightAn Anonymous Creepypasta
God, I hope I'm just going crazy.
You ever had one of those "how in the hell did I get here" moments? I mean those flashes of clarity where you really see your life. You look in the mirror and you’re so far removed from the person you dreamed of being when you were a kid that you're stunned speechless.
Mine happened about a year ago, a week or two before Thanksgiving, when I woke up in the hospital. I was incredibly disoriented; everything seemed unreal and distant, not really happening to me… like I was dreaming, or an avatar in a video game. Maybe it was because I already felt so disconnected... maybe it was the terrifying reminder of my own mortality… but it felt like I was seeing myself with a stranger’s eyes. Waves of shame and self-hatred rolled over me in that hospital bed, and I vowed to change my life.
I’d made similar resolutions before and failed miserably, but this time was different. This time, the change was nearly effortless: old habits evaporated, old temptations lost all allure. Peer pressure stopped being an issue, because I just wasn’t interested in hanging out with my usual group; when I tried going out with them sober, they bored me to tears.
Meanwhile, other relationships in my life were improving. At my son Logan’s birthday party, I even overheard my ex-wife telling his mother that I’d finally grown up and stopped causing so much heartache for everyone. When the last children had left and I was cleaning up, my son surprised me with a running hug. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me harder than he ever had in his life.
"Will you stay?" he whispered.
I brushed back his hair with my hand. “Of course! I’ll stay as long as you want. You could even spend the night at my place tonight, if your mother says it's okay."
He sighed happily. “You're so much better than my real dad.” Every cell in my body froze.
I launched into a speech about how I was his dad, was trying to change, knew I needed to earn his trust back, etc.
"Okay!” he said lightly, obviously eager to return to his pile of presents. But just before he ran off... he winked at me, like we had an awesome secret.
Logan couldn't stay with me that night after all... and honestly, I was kind of relieved. What he'd said had cut me to the core, and for the first time in nearly a year, I desperately wanted a drink. I made it all the way to the front door of my apartment complex before I lost it and started sobbing. I was fumbling in my pocket for my keys, trying to see through a glaze of tears, when Sam put her hand on my shoulder.
Sam had lived in the apartment next door to mine for years. Before my epiphany, I’d barely spared her a glance… but after, I’d found myself choking on cartoon butterflies whenever she passed by. I’d never had to chase a girl before. It’s not that I’m Brad Pitt or anything, it’s just that I used to spend an enormous amount of time and money making myself look nothing like myself. You've seen the old me, or one of my countless clones: a golem of silicone and acrylic, spangles and bleach. It was a lot like being a zombie, I suppose; you can barely move for fear that parts of you will fall off.
Back on point: I’d been trying to catch Sam’s eye for months, and I was terrible at it. I'd chat her up and think I was getting somewhere... but then I'd make a joke, or quote a movie, and she'd cringe like I'd just stabbed her.
It was a humiliating way to have finally caught her attention... bawling like an angry toddler on the front steps, miserably wiping snot on my sleeve as I blubbered confessions for a million sins.
Sam listened patiently, only stopping me once to suggest we get out of the cold and continue talking in her apartment. She drank me under the table. I'd lost all my tolerance in a year of sobriety, but Sam definitely didn't have that problem. When I got up to get us both another, it was easy to see why: her refrigerator looked like mine used to, boasting the four food groups of beer, liquor, take-out, and antique condiments.
"Did your roommate move out?" I asked, carrying our beers back from her kitchen. "He was a big cook, right? I used to walk by your place around dinnertime and drool."
"He wasn't my roommate," she said quietly. "He was my husband."
My face fell, and the last year flashed by in sickening instant replay: her total disinterest in me, followed by the pained looks and vanishing act whenever she caught herself flirting back. I'd never bothered to ring-check her until my crush hit.
"If you'd like to talk about it, I'm interested... but I won't pry if you don't. Up to you."
She laughed a little, shaking his head. "It's funny. Stanley was usually such a good judge of character... but he was so wrong about you. Sucks that he never got to know you... I think he would have really liked you.” She changed the subject, and I excused myself soon after.
The next day, curiosity led me to google his husband. As I read through the results, my eyes widened.
Stanley had died the night I'd passed out, and it appeared he might have accidentally saved my life. I spoke with a neighbor and confirmed that my guess was right... the EMT's who responded to Sam's 911 call had been the ones who found me. Since they'd been called out for just one patient and only had one ambulance, they'd put me on a board and hung it on hooks from the ambulance ceiling.
I didn't sleep a wink the night I found that out. My stupid drunk ass had hung there a few feet above the worst moments of Sam's life and the last ones of Stanley's... the ultimate third wheel, intruding on something incredibly private and intimate. I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling, imagining what it must have been like for Stanley, staring up at a man he'd thought was a total waste, knowing that I'd wake up and he never would.
I blushed against my pillow, thinking of how I’d hit on her so soon after his death. I couldn’t believe she'd ended up comforting me… I swore to never flirt with Sam again, and I kept that promise… even as we became friendlier and wound up with a weekly TV-and-Chinese-Food appointment.
I didn't mean to get her a Christmas present. I'd considered it, but wrote it off as over the line. Then I went thrifting and saw this pocketknife. It wasn't anything flashy, but something about it just said "Sam" to me. When I picked it up and examined it, the owner came up behind me.
"You've got nice taste, honey," she said. "They don't make 'em like that anymore." And I smiled, ‘cause that was how I felt about Sam.
But when Sam opened the gift, her face went white. "Did I... did I tell you about this that night I was so drunk?" she murmured, picking up the knife and turning it in her fingers. "I must have..."
Sam had inherited one exactly like it from her grandfather. It had gotten lost when she and Stanley moved into the building, and she'd felt awful about it. "Oh, crap... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories..."
"No, no, this is great… I've been trying to find one for long time. Thank you."
I think she meant to peck me on the cheek, but it landed on the corner of my mouth... and the next thing I knew, she was kissing me for real. It was amazing for about ten seconds… and then she sprang off the couch, stammering that she was sorry, that she'd been overcome... And then it just poured out of her.
She told me how much I reminded her of Stanley, how being with me was so much like being with him that it broke her heart. "You say things he said, you quote movies he used to quote... Jesus, you wear some of the same clothes. Who puts this green shit on Triscuits? Nobody I've ever met... except you and him."
I didn't reply. I couldn't reply.
"I shouldn't have kissed you. My therapist said..." she broke off with a disgusted noise, sighing deeply before continuing. "I just don't think I can get over him and do this... the dinners with you. I'm not moving on, I'm just… I’m just pretending I don't have to." She apologized again, and then she was gone. I stared at the door like an idiot for a few seconds, letting that sink in. She'd left his present on my coffee table, and I bent to pick it up…
You're so much better than my real dad.
Suddenly, pieces were snapping together in my mind, and I kept shaking my head like I could break them apart again. What I was thinking was stupid, crazy, superstitious lunacy... I'd been a few feet away in the ambulance when

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

www.scarystorytime.com
*previously recorded episode

Story Credits
Story One Title: All the Papers Lied Tonight
Author: Anonymous Creepypasta
Story Link: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/All_the_Papers_Lied_Tonight
Story Two Title: Behind Your Eyes
Author: Anonymous Creepypasta Story Link: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Behind_Your_Eyes
Story Three Title: An Evening Alone Author: Anonymous Creepypasta Story Link: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/An_Evening_Alone
Music/Ambience Title: Abyss
Music/Ambience Composer: MYUU
Music/Ambience Link: https://www.youtube.com/myuuji
Music/Ambience Title: The Order's Theme
Music/Ambience Composer: MYUU
Music/Ambience Link: https://www.youtube.com/myuuji
mask: Cathan X
CREEPYPASTA AND TRUE SCARY STORY PODCAST
Where Spooky Boo tells the scary stories of the internet.
WEBSITE: https://www.creepypastascarystories.com
PODCAST LINKS - LISTEN ON YOUR iPHONE or ANDROID
SPOTIFY►► https://open.spotify.com/show/0yhePO6zmgAGazv8gNLgIk
APPLE PODCASTS LINK►► https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/creepypasta-and-true-scary-stories/id1474148412
AMAZON MUSIC►► https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/b146dbc3-f56c-4c5d-b9e6-fd442a84aa11/Creepypasta-and-True-Scary-Stories
ALEXA VOICE COMMAND►► "Alexa, play podcast Creepypasta and True Scary Stories"
SPOOKY BOO'S SCARY STORY TIME PODCAST
Horror stories are written and told by Spooky Boo Rhodes
WEBSITE: https://www.scarystorytime.com
PODCAST LINKS - LISTEN ON YOUR iPHONE or ANDROID
SPOTIFY►► https://open.spotify.com/show/1qvNHVOanlplVOieNgt4Fu
APPLE PODCASTS LINK►► https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/spooky-boos-scary-story-time/id1163831041
AMAZON MUSIC►► https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/b9e07138-e038-46f7-9034-88ab3fd6282a/Spooky-Boos-Scary-Story-Time
ALEXA VOICE COMMAND► "Alexa, play podcast Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time"
Show comments and your true scary stories call 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592)
FOLLOW ME ON
►►Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/boorhodes
►►Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
►►Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/spookyboorhodes
►►Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
►►Scary Story Time Website: https://www.scarystorytime.com
►►Creepypasta and True Scary Stories Podcast: https://www.creepypastascarystories.com
NEWSLETTER
►►Get the monthly Spooky Boosletter and support the podcasts on Patreon at
https://www.spookyboo.club
MERCHANDISE (T-Shirts, Cups, Blankets)
►►https://www.scarystorytime.com/merchandise
#spookyboo #scarystorytime #ASMR
-------------------
About Spooky Boo
Spooky Boo Rhodes is both an author and a podcaster. She has three podcasts available: Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time where she writes her own stories and tells them on the podcast, Creepypasta and Scary Stories where she tells the creepy stories of the internet written by other authors, and Creepy True Scary Stories where people send in their own true scary stories for Spooky Boo to read.
Visit Spooky Boo's favorite punk band at https://www.officialstayout.com
This podcast includes stories of a dark nature and may not be suitable for all listeners. If you're comfortable listening to stories that are paranormal or twisted dark horror then this podcast is for you.
I love telling horror stories. Subscribe to both of my channels to listen to true and fictional scary stories of nightmares, ghosts, demons, witches and witchcraft, haunted houses, Halloween, x-files, cryptids, monsters, vampires, ghosts, and other creatures that go bump in the night!
I'll see you in your nightmares!

Spooky, scary stories told by Spooky Boo Rhodes

MISTKEN by AxisofAllies
https://www.creepypastascarystories.com/creepypasta/mistaken/

BACKGROUND AMBIENCE

ABYSS by MYUU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7s4d6NFIRdM

ART CONCEPTS
SPOOKY BOO RHODES

Websites and Social Media

Midnight Scares
https://www.creepypastascarystories.com/

Spooky Boo’s Sandcastle Horror Series
https://www.sandcastlehorror.com

Spooky Boo Rhodes (linktree)
http://www.spookyboorhodes.com

Patreon (Commercial free podcast and more)
https://www.patreon.com/posts/mistaken-76899072

YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime

Spreaker (all podcast links)
https://www.spreaker.com/show/creepypasta-scary-stories

Apple Podcasts
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/midnight-scares-of-creepypasta-and-scary-stories/id1474148412

Spotify
https://open.spotify.com/show/0yhePO6zmgAGazv8gNLgIk

MISTAKEN
by AxisofAllies
Cecilia "Ciel" Volkov watched as the clock ticked by slowly, the seconds barely oozing away with each tick and tock from the tiny red hand that mocked her clicking impatient nails. The world was moving rather too slowly for Ciel's liking and her fingers, painted in a white colour, gripped the cold white bed sheets beneath her as if they were the only things that kept her anchored to the planet.
She knew she was sane. She was one hundred percent positive on it and goddammit, she would bet her soul to prove herself right. The problem was that her parents and the doctors and the world did not believe her. The words, bouncing freely as if without care, echoed through her skull and Ciel gripped her blonde hair, tugging and twisting till the roots begged to be yanked free from her scalp.
"Daughter.." "Schizophrenia.." "Insane.." "Psychopathy.." "Medications like Risperdal, Latuda.."
She knew she was not crazy. Ciel knew it. They had said she had schizophrenia since she was a child but just because the world could not see what Cecilia could, did not mean that she was wrong, that she deserved to be drugged, turned into a living zombie. That... That thing that followed her! It was not just imaginary!
The door opened and Ciel looked up expectantly, green eyes wide with alertness, waiting for the news that could unchain her from this damn hospital and these meds that were bitter with lies and disgrace. A doctor, dressed in a white coat and decorated with tools, smiled brightly at her like a clown.
She hated clowns.
"Hello, Cecilia! How are you today? You're looking mighty pretty if I may say!" the doctor grinned foolishly.
"My name. Is. Ciel." the blonde said in a monotone, eyes narrowed into dagger-like slits, teeth gritting dangerously. "Only my parents call me 'Cecilia'".
"Is that so? I am so sorry, Ciel." the white-coated man waggled a finger playfully. "The meds are working, I assume?"
"Of course." she lied, watching a shadowy figure just in the corner of her eye waver. "I don't need them though."
"You know you need them. Imagine if you weren't! Things would be a lot more stressful." he sighed, shaking his head. "Hey, have you seen the newest episode of Dr. Who? I heard you like that show..."
Ciel felt her heart beating faster as the shape danced teasingly between her line of vision and an area behind her where she could not watch it, chills rippling down her spine like some asshat had decided to slip a bundle of icicles down her back. Her will was a solvent and fear was her solute, meshing together until the two would eventually collide in a clash. Talons dug into the soft flesh of her side and she bit her lip until it bled before she looked back at the doc.
The ass was ranting about whether the answer to life was forty-two or not, back toward her, as his fingers pecked at a keyboard.
Hey, Ceci. Ceci. Play with me, Ceci! C'mon!~
The hairs on the back of her neck were solider with their backs a solid slab of wood. The voice was malicious and musical, the same voice that was the sole constant in the blonde's life. A wet lapping behind her made Ciel jolt.
"So, Ciel, are you walking home or are you being picked up..?" the professional questioned.
"Um, I... I'm kinda just walking home!" the patient blurted with a little too much enthusiasm.
"That's great. It's beautiful outside!" he agreed, handing her a prescription. "Just give this to your mum or something to get it filled.."
"Thanks.." she mumbled, shivering under the heavy paw of the shadow.
"Oh, Ciel? Don't forget to sleep well tonight." the man called cheerily.
Cecilia forced a smile on her face and waved in a false happiness before she rammed herself out the door, feeling nauseous at the phrase. The white shadow, face covered completely with a do-rag that sported a open fanged mouth design, had had its ugly tentacles wrapped around the doctor's mouth and throat, forcing his jaw open at a crooked angle like a broken nutcracker, and Cecilia knew that she would never see his smiling face again as she pushed open the hospital doors.
The moment fresh air passed over her face, Cecilia fell to her knees and regurgitated every single thing that she could before gasping and continuing her way home with a hollow look on her face.
Cecilia rocked back and forth on her bed, burying her face in a stuffed lamb given to her by an old friend, as her sister practiced piano in the next room. She hated how no one believed her, she hated her sister's talent, and she especially hated, absolutely loathed the godforsaken thing that crooned out a broken tune - that goddamn piano. Throwing down the little woolly, she stared around her childish room.
Every single corner of her room was lit up and Ciel found herself lighting yet another candle for her cupboard as she noticed a single flame flickering slightly. The shadows could never touch her. She knew better than to let them. The white shadow that followed her constantly would drag her away into the night if the dark even covered a fraction of her littlest toe for a jiffy. She knew it. Oh, yes, she most certainly did..
"Cecilia Marie! Come down here right now!" a loud masculine voice bellowed. "Family meeting!"
One, two, this is bad for you.. Two, three, you're next, Ceci..~
Ciel hyperventilated and flailed wildly, Bambi eyes flashing from one corner to the next, and the white shadow stood in the farthest corner away from her where the bulb had apparently blown. Its head cocked to the side, the red eyes splashed against a pale face she would never see, and Ciel shrieked.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME! NO! STAY. AWAY!" Ciel screamed, chucking whatever she could grab at the unholy being. "STAY AWAY, STAY AWAY, S-STAY!"
The being laughed, eyes glowing with amusement. They will never believe you. They're coming up and they'll look at you with scorn before they cage you like a beast.
"SHUT UP!" the girl sobbed hysterically.
  What power do you have over me, child? I have walked among men and angels for thousands of years, I am older than any mortal, dead or alive, and I have walked in the shoes of those who sin and those who have believe in their saintliness. And when I die, I will take them and cut them into little stars as they beg for the coming of night, gentle night, to come. But where is your god now, for night will never come. It's just a whisper. They are all ears.
Ciel choked back on tears and felt sickness well up in the lower pit of her stomach. Her throat started closing up on her and breathing became a feat best left to professionals. Behind her closed door, angry footsteps stomped up the stairs and the white being wandered closer, the lights dying behind it like stars behind clouds.
Daddy sounds mad, love. Are you afraid of me more or him? They will always think you're insane.
The blonde dug her nails into her scalp, screaming, confused, frightened, and the door rattled as her father furiously pounded on it with an yowl of fury. The shadow sadistically stopped a mere foot away, leaving just three lights on.
"CECILIA, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR BEFORE I CHOP IT DOWN!" her father snarled, hammering a fist against the wood viciously. "GODDAMN YOU, YOU FUCKED UP CHILD!"
One, two... This is bad for you.. Two, three.. You will be next, Ceci.
"P-please.. S-shut up.. Please..!" Cecilia wailed, feeling her nails scrape her skin. "...P-pl-please.."
The door banged open, her doorknob forcing a hole through the light blue wall, and the shadow watched in amusement as the man grabbed Ciel by the hair and thundered.
"WHY THE HELL CAN'T YOU BE LIKE YOUR SISTER?! HUH?!" he demanded, shaking her roughly. "CLAUDIA NEVER PULLS THIS SHIT!"
"James!" Cecilia's mother scolded from downstairs. "Get down here and stop your screaming!"
"Aw, shut your whore mouth, Rhonda! Ya goddamn Joker wannabe!" the father yelled, meaty fist still entangled in his daughter's hair.
"Leave my goddamn daughter alone, you no-good alcoholic! She's troubled enough and you-"
"What do you mean ME?!"
"Obviously, you messed her up!"
"Oh, right! Cause her whore mother-!"
"I AM NOT A WHORE!"
Cecilia trembled, mucus leaking from her cherry red nose, and closed her eyes. The world was dark, it was always dark even with all the lights on, and she gasped for breath as it began again.
Don't you want this to be over?
Ciel squeezed her eyelids shut until stars and lights burst in all the colours of the rainbow like fireworks. The slimy and dead breath of the the shadow flushed against her red face and bile rose up like an elevator.
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.." Ciel whispered desperately, clasping her hands together like a pale porcelain doll.
The yelling, the breath, the insults, and the greasy, dark feeling like drowning in an algae-coated pond where the scum from the bottom was concrete became overwhelming as she felt the shadow suck the air away from her soul. Laughter from the pits of hell filled her ears and all Ciel saw beneath closed eyes was the ugly appendages like spider's legs peeling back lips from a broken, fanged smile that ripped the skin with each tug.
Huffing air in like a drug, Ciel's eyes snapped up and her right hand fluttered up to her drumming heart. The girl's head swiveled around and she sat up. The room was too perfect and too pristine for it to be hers.
"Lili! You're awake." a tinkling voice cheered happily.
Ciel looked in the direction of the tone and Chloe smiled, closing the door with a slippered foot, as she approached her sister with a tray of soup and crackers.
"I was worried. I don't want you ever doing that to me again." Chloe chastised. "The neighbors called the cops on Mom and Dad. But I got you, ok? I even put you in the white night gown you love so much.

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

STORY INFO
Demon of the Dark Web
Anonymoushttps://www.darknethorrorstories.com/darknetstories/demon-of-the-dark-web.html

BACKGROUND
Blackout by MYUU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7s4d6NFIRdM

ART CONCEPTS
SPOOKY BOO RHODES

Follow me @SpookyBooRhodes



Patreon - commercial free!
https://www.patreon.com/posts/demon-of-dark-76804030

Website
https://www.creepypastascarystories.com/creepypasta/totally-new-story-demon-of-the-dark-web/

YouTube
https://youtu.be/V_H-7eqNvHc

Spreaker
https://www.spreaker.com/episode/52356355

Apple Podcasts
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/demon-of-the-dark-web-never-heard-before/id1474148412?i=1000592531521

Spotify
https://open.spotify.com/episode/4rvMB4zWl01DQPyMPNLwRt?si=f7d68f8cbaf94f28

There is a guy who calls himself Demon of the Dark Web. I don't know if he really is a demon or not. Are there such things as demons? I don't know. I know that he is dark and evil. I know that he has done many indecent and horrible deeds to women of all ages including me. He was part of this big human trafficking ring that operated on the dark web that was taken down by the feds not too long ago. I heard he is back.
I know all of this because I was part of his prey. I was homeless out in a city near San Francisco a few years back. If you don't know much about the homeless in this area, let me explain a little bit to you. I moved to the Bay Area thinking that I would make it. My dream was to always live near the coastline so I chose San Francisco. It was in San Francisco where I became homeless after I ran out of money and lived on the streets for a few years. I wasn't lazy and I did have a job. A friend let me use her address for residency but her landlord wouldn't let me stay there so, even though I did stay at her house sometimes, I slept on the streets with the homeless people most of the time. Many of the homeless are there because they are mentally ill or do drugs. Then there are some of us who actually work for a living but still can't afford the crazy rental prices out in the Bay Area. Who can afford a $2,000 to $3,000 per month apartment on a $10 an-hour job? Am I right? Anyway, so we live in our cars or tents and shower at the health clubs we have memberships in. We have cell phones and computers and use the free wifi from the libraries. We travel between three different cities depending on the weather and if we have over-welcomed our stay. The cities set up places to help us out while we're there but resources are limited. We're a tight group, watching over each other's belongings while we work. In the winter we rent hotel rooms and share them because the homeless shelters are either always full or they have rules many of us do not want to follow. The shelters also have a lot of mean people in them. The mean people are able to stay because they chase us out.
So that is the low down of the homeless situation I was in. It was cold and brutal, but if you can survive it then you can pretty much survive anything. You have to be careful who you friend in these places because there are some very shady people who infiltrate the group. One of these people was my friend Tom. No, that's not his real name. I'm afraid if I tell you his real name he will try to find me. Tom used to borrow my cell phone a lot. He always said that his battery had died and that he needed mine. Unfortunately for me, I believed him. I think he was doing something like putting a rootkit on my phone so he could access it to give me commands and mess with my apps and text messages. It was after he started borrowing the phone is when I began receiving weird messages and pictures.
One day I was looking through my phone's picture gallery and I noticed some pictures of me that I don't remember taking. They were pictures of me posing for the camera. I mean, I admit, I do take a lot of pictures so it is possible I was just goofing off one night but then the air went stale as I stared at a picture of me sleeping. Did someone grab my phone and take a picture of me asleep? How? I have a wristband I attach to my phone when I sleep so no one steals it. The band isn't long enough to take a picture at this angle.
I started to go through more pictures and realized there are dozens of pictures of me sleeping in the hotel rooms we stayed at. There were pictures of me in the shower and on the toilet even. I kept scrolling, getting more horrified than I ever! Some were blurry. It was the blurry ones that bugged me the most. It always looked like there was another person with me in the blurry pictures. We were doing things that I don't ever remember doing. I was celibate during this time. I wasn't having sex with anyone that I can remember.
Then there were the movies. Oh my God, the movies! Short clips of about 10 to 30 seconds each. There were weird background sounds of multiple people in these movies. Some of the voices were slow and demonic sounding. I couldn't really see what was happening because the movies were dark. It sounded like whips and chains being used and a woman moaning. I couldn't quite make out what was going on except they always happened on the nights I had blackouts. Other movies involved people dressed up as guards or police officers guiding me into strange buildings and then the lights would go dark. The same whipping sounds and demonic voices would happen and the movie would go dark.
Yes, I said blackouts. A weird smell would permeate our homeless encampment. They said it was the government officials spraying for bedbugs, but I knew better. It was on those nights that I would sleep heavily and I couldn't remember the night before. I noticed that was when the pictures and movies would appear on my phone. It happened every month and it was about the same time as the pictures.
Then the other weird events started. Let me be clear. I don't do drugs. I have never done drugs. I might have gotten drunk with friends back in the day but I've never done crack, speed, cocaine, meth, crank, or whatever all of those other drugs are called. I did pot once and I didn't like it so I never did it or anything harder. Ever. If someone was drugging me, I wouldn't even know but I can tell you that some nights the blackouts were more like dreams of me following some creature. It had a low, demonic voice that resembled someone slowing down a tape recorder. He looked all red with fiery red eyes. I remember him giving me commands such as "take off your clothes" and "lie down on your back." I vaguely remember him tying me up while standing to some contraption and men coming into the room but that is all I remember. I don't know what happened to me after that.
I found text messages on my phone telling me to meet someone called DDW, short for Demon of the Dark Web, at a certain time and then they would disappear. Most of the images on the phone were taken at these times. It was almost like I was being hypnotized and told to meet him during those blackout nights. I also remember the messages would just disappear so when I went to the police with my info after realizing what could be going on, I had no proof. I had no one on my phone named DDW or Demon of the Dark Web.
I started getting really paranoid. I thought the world was against me. I don't know if it was the meds they were feeding me or if it all was actually happening. Everyone I ran into seemed to be an enemy--even my friends! I went to the doctor one day because my lady parts were hurting and having problems. The doctor said I had contracted venereal warts and chlamydia but I said that was impossible because I hadn't been sexually active with anyone. He just nodded his head and told me to take some antibiotics and some cream for the warts.
I started to wonder if I was just going crazy because no one believed me and then one day something weird happened. My friend went to go pay her phone bill and the company said an anonymous source had paid it for her. She was telling me it seemed really weird this happened but figured it was just a mistake. The company wouldn't take the money back and they had no idea who did it. Then she started getting calls for me. Personal calls. They had given her my old phone number of a cell phone I had lost and canceled! A few days later some men in a black Mercedez Benz started following her around town until she stopped to car in the middle of the street to confront them. They zoomed past her and then she never saw them again. We both have dark hair so maybe they were tracking my phone number and thought maybe she was me? I don't know.
I know I'm not crazy, but these are weird events that would happen and they haven't happened since they arrested a man who joked about calling himself that. The weird thing is, it didn't just happen while I was homeless. That is where it all started. When I finally saved enough money for a down payment to a place, I remember the dreams still happening. I also found some really strange white powder in one of my bags. It wasn't in a baggie or anything and when I opened the bag a draft blew it into my face. All I remember at that point was just staring into the wall like I was waiting for a command. The next thing I knew, it was four hours later and I was still sitting there. It was crazy! I'm still scared but nothing has happened since.
I guess another weird time that happened after he was arrested was when I moved to Phoenix. At that point, I had enough of the Bay Area and moved to Phoenix for a while. I was sleeping in my new hotel room and smelled that funny, sweet smell again. As I drifted off to sleep I felt hands upon me to help me stand up and guide me to a car. I don't know what kind of car. All I remember is that it was a large, black sedan. They helped me into the back seat and as I was told to do unspeakable things to this man, he started to tell me to never speak of what happened to me and that I would be free of any followings again as long as I did what I was told. His voice was harsh and demonic just like the one who was supposedly arrested. After he was finished with me, they guided me back into my hotel room and just left me there. I awoke the next morning with the taste of him in my mouth and I was a mess. I took a shower and immediately left Arizona and went back to my hometown with my family so I would feel safe.
This is the first time I have been back on the web since I moved. I haven't even touched a cell phone with data access or even a computer since that time. I tossed all of my equipment and anything that could place me on the internet. My cell phone is the standard generic phone. Last night, I had a weird dream about all of these events that happened and

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

STORY INFO
Two Terrifying Demon Stories of Demonic Rage
https://www.creepypastascarystories.com/creepypasta/ two-terrifying-demon-stories-of-demonic-rage
Demon's Den
by MonicaMishra0607
Dark of the Corner
by Alex&Sydd storehhs

BACKGROUND
ABYSS by MYUU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7s4d6NFIRdM
ART CONCEPTS
SPOOKY BOO RHODES
KEYWORDS PODCAST
creepypasta, scary-stories, horror-stories, campfire-stories, spookyboorhodes

Website
Patreon
https://www.patreon.com/posts/two-terrifying-76759447
YouTube
Spreaker
Apple Podcasts
Spotify

Good evening, it's Spooky Boo Rhodes coming to you from the KSND radio waves in Sandcastle, California. Tonight I have for you two very terrifying stories about demons. I'm sure you'll enjoy these creepy tales of death and demonic rage.
Now let's begin...

Demon's Den
by MonicaMishra0607
https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Demon%27s_Den

Dark of the Corner
by Alex&Sydd storehhs
https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Dark_of_the_Corner

Background
Abyss
MYUU

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

Campfire Taleby EmpyrealInvective
I will always remember the rag man, not necessarily for the rags of clothes he wore, his thousand-yard stare, or his way of talking like he was the only one listening, but for the story he told me. You see, stories have become our method of introducing ourselves. The other questions we would normally ask have been rendered useless. There is little point in asking what your job is when you have no job. There is no point in asking what their favorite TV. show is when there is no longer any real functional electrical system. There is no point in asking about their family, you get the point.
I have no real method of telling time anymore, but if I had to hazard a guess, I would assume at least two years have passed since it all started. It feels longer than two years since those undead things came along and began to gnaw down on population to nothing but bones. When they came, the modern world was lost. Generators fell into disrepair and we were plunged back into what felt like colonial times. I was a huge fan of movies, which unfortunately were one of the many casualties of the undead. I have since picked up a new hobby. You could call me a collector of sorts; I gather stories.
I collect all sorts of stories, but the ones that intrigue me most are people's experiences from the zombie apocalypse. Those stories are the most appealing to me because everyone has their own unique experience. They usually pertain to what they were doing the day of the initial outbreak. Some are sad, some are funny (Like this one about a girl who had decided to try DMT for the first time in her life and thought the zombies were a hallucination brought on by a bad drug trip for a week straight before realizing that that was way too long to be hallucinating.), but only one has really resonated with me these two years.
I met the rag man in a burnt-out building. I had been moving from place to place looking for somewhere to stay. The allure of the fire he had built was too great. I ventured into the deteriorating building ignoring my fear that I could be walking into an ambush. I just wanted a place to stay for the night where I wouldn’t drift off to sleep in fear that I would be woken up by one of those things gnawing on me.
I found the rag man crouched in front of the fire. He barely acknowledged my presence. Where most would draw their weapon and demand that I identify myself, he merely craned his head up to take a quick look at me before dropping it back down to the crackling fire. I took this as an invitation and sat down near the warmth. It had been the first time in weeks that I was able to warm up my body from the cold night’s air. The crackling and roaring fire brought back memories of spooky campfire tales and roasting smores.
I call him the rag man because he gave me no formal introduction. He was a haggard looking man in about his fifties. His beard looked like a razor hadn’t touched it since the undead started walking around. He was emaciated and in a world where everyone is practically a walking skeleton, saying he was gaunt is no understatement or literary flourish. His clothes had been reduced to rags by months of strenuous activity. It looked like he had bundled up with two or three layers of clothing, but all had been worn down to strips and rags. We regarded each other in silence for a few moments before he began talking without introduction or statement of intention.
He began, “The first few days of the outbreak, we took shelter in a building. It was in that office building where we eked out those first few days. We ate the food that we found in the break room. A lot of people talked about what was happening. The general consensus was that the military was on the way. They had to be, I mean this was America we are talking about. We expected the military resurgence to be quick and effective. We thought of this hellish plague as being something that would be solved in a matter of days.
“I had my first real encounter with an infected the night we first went into the office building. One of my group suggested we search the area to make sure we were truly safe in this barricaded building. Most of the employees had fled. It seemed like no one wanted to spend the apocalypse in their old place of work. There was no one except for one lone worker who had decided to go down with the ship. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that was stained red. Of course I was the one who found him and had to take care of him.
“He slowly turned towards me. His mouth was stained red and he had recently begun to rot. I grabbed the closest weapon I could find which was a red stapler. I stepped towards him and swung down with all my might. The first blow knocked him right on his ass. I thought I had killed him, but when he started getting up, I quickly realized how resilient these things were. I struck him again. And again.” At this point, the rag man became quite animated and pantomimed his vicious attack. As if lost in a trance, he re-enacted the attack and brought his right hand down on an invisible target.
The rag man continued as he emphasized his story with his actions, “I must have beat its head in with that red stapler twenty or thirty times before it finally stopped moving. I took one last look at that bloody, boney mess that was once its face before I threw up in a near-by trashcan. I then dragged the body over to a window and shoved it out. I didn’t watch it impact on the street below. I went back to the others and didn’t breathe a word about what I had done.
“I wasn’t sure why I never told them. I think in the end it was a few parts guilt and a few other parts not wanting to scare them. I had just killed what was once a man quite brutally. I had beat him to death with a stapler in my hand until his face split open and his brains started leaking out. The other part was fear. I didn’t want to scare them by letting them know that there were those things here in the building and they were practically impossible to kill. Looking back on it, I wish I had told them.
“We sat huddled in that building for days. I mentioned maybe leaving to find another place or scavenge for food, but my thoughts were quickly shot down. They were convinced that the army was coming to the rescue and they were only days away. They didn’t want to risk going out into this new and dangerous world. They just wanted to hunker down and wait.
“We woke up the next day to the sound of a helicopter flying overhead. It took me a few seconds to make the connections. The others knew the implications right away and they shot to their feet and began tearing away the make-shift barricade we had set to keep those flesh-eating fiends out. They flew out into the streets, waving their hands and trying to catch the helicopter’s attention. They made so much sound...
“They thought that the helicopter was the military coming in to save the day. I didn’t. I saw it as the last dying gasp of the entire system collapsing under the onslaught of the dead. That helicopter wasn’t here to begin the evacuation of civilians, if anything it was fleeing from the base as the undead creatures swarmed over it and gnawed everything to bones. I stood in the doorway and watched them shout and wave.
“It was in that moment that I realized the difference between me and them. It was hope and fear. They had hope and thought the military was about to come riding in on their white horses and save the day. I had fear. I had faced one of those undead things. I knew how resilient and practically impervious to damage they were. I knew that no one was coming to save us and the only option we had left was to save ourselves. It was my fear that saved me.
“They made so much noise.” The rag man paused like there was something he really wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words. His eyes were red and wet with tears. I wasn’t sure if it was the smoke or his memories that made them look that way. He continued, “The sounds drew so many of them. In the space of a few seconds it was too late and they were on them; scratching, biting, tearing away at their flesh. They tried to wade through the undead horde to get back into the building, but it was too late. I did the only thing I could.” His voice cracked and he took a few seconds before he was able to finish that thought. It came out sounding rhythmic like the tolling of a death knell, “I. Shut. The. Door.
“I knew that there was nothing more I could do. There were so many of those undead bastards and I was so terrified. If killing one of those things was so hard, how could I manage fifteen? The zombies were distracted now, but if I let them back in, it would be the death of us all. I started barricading the door. Some made it through the masses of undead flesh and started pounding on the door. I tried to shut my ears to their supplications and pleadings.
“I kept telling myself that it was too late for them. I told myself I could make it through all of this if I just shut up and ignored them. I could survive if I abandoned them. They realized what I was doing to them and their begging about being let in turned into curses. They- They called me the worst names imaginable.” His entire body sagged like he was a balloon that someone had stuck a pin in. He deflated and managed to squeeze the last words out, “They called me terrible names. They called me, ‘Friend,’ ‘Husband,’ ‘F-father.’ They- they-”
He completely sank into himself and dissolved into tears. He sobbed and wept incoherently. He said nothing for the rest of the night and I said nothing to him. There was nothing I could say to him, nothing I wanted to say to him. We both went to sleep on separate sides of the fire and despite the warmth, I felt a chill throughout my body. I’m not sure why the rag man told me that story, did he want someone to confess to? Did he want to be punished for a

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400