Good evening, it’s Spooky Boo coming to you from the lighthouse in Sandcastle, California. Christmas is finally over and the New Year is here! Who is looking forward to 2022? I sure am! My voice is also back from the holidays. A good omen for sure! If you haven’t been to the Spooky Boo’s Scary Story Time YouTube channel check it out! I think you’ll have some fun there as of late. On Saturday nights starting at 6:00 PM Pacific I livestream and chat with friends. www.youtube.com/spookybooscarystorytime is where you’ll find me on YouTube and everywhere else.
Today I have for you 3 creepy cryptid stories from the Creepypasta library. Sandcastle is full of these creatures and I really should start bringing you more of their stories. I will! In due time. For now, the internet is here to entertain you.
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, please consider becoming a Patreon member or you can also tell your friends on YouTube as sharing, liking, and commenting on the YouTube channel and the website is always very very helpful.
Now let’s begin…
The Harpy Crow
A Creepypasta by CyanWrites
All of us had just got off work from various jobs; call centers, restaurants, offices, one of us even worked for the RSPB, a nature conservation organization. We had all been friends since high school, and through these meetups, our bonds have stayed as strong as they were then.
There was a nest of crow hatchlings up a tree near us, that would not stop screaming and screeching for their mommy. I turned the conversation to how annoying the little birds were being, and the conversation naturally progressed to how we all hated crows. Before long, some of us were throwing stones and twigs at the nest, me included, with the aim of knocking it down.
The only one that wasn’t joining in was Gary, who worked at the RSPB. Not only was he angry, but he was scared.
“Don’t hit the nest!” he started, surveying the air anxiously. “The wrath and vengeance of a mother crow of that particular species is something incredible! Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the Harpy Crow!
“There was a guy, who had a nest of Harpy Crows in his shed. Not knowing how wrathful these birds were, and thinking them pests, he put down poison mixed with birdseed. The crows ate the mix, and all but one of them died. The crow that survived took ill, and the man sought to finish it off with a golf club.
“It put up an awesome fight, and disarmed the man before scratching his face and upper body with its talons. The razor sharp claws cut through his skin like a hot knife through butter. The man looked up to see its face for the first time. It looked more human than crow, with pale, featherless skin, a heavy brow and a flat mouth, which it opened to reveal a set of gleaming, jagged teeth.
“The old man would have had his life taken away then and there if it weren’t for a neighbor hearing the commotion, and coming to his aid. The neighbor managed to kill the crow before it focused its full attention on him. Both men had been very lucky, the first victim especially.”
The rest of us rolled our eyes. In high school, Gary was always telling ghost stories, and taking seriously many urban legends and conspiracy theories. None of us knew whether or not the Harpy Crow was a real species of bird, but we all knew the tone of voice Gary used when he was about to explain another silly story.
“Gary,” I interjected before he could get another word out, “nobody cares.”
And to punctuate my sentence, I threw one more rock at the nest, and knocked it clean off the tree. It fell, screaming chicks and all, to the ground with a sickening crunch, though that wasn’t the noise that made me queasy. When the crows got closer to the ground, obviously sensing death, their screams changed from the cries of hungry birds, to the cries of frightened children. Frightened… human children.
The death of the birds had killed the mood of our meetup completely. There was now an awkward, melancholy tone. The only one who didn’t feel guilty was Gary, and he was terrified, eyes still scanning the skies. We all agreed to call it a day and meet up tomorrow.
I walked through the park alone, harrowed and haunted by the sound of those young birds. I couldn’t stop those few seconds from replaying and replaying over in my head.
It was beginning to get dark as I continued to tread across the grass and under the trees. I heard a fluttering behind me. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw a black bird perched on a tree, quite high up, simply observing me.
I shuddered, and carried on. The bird could have simply been minding its own business, but I could feel its eyes fixed directly on me, it was watching me. After Gary’s little story, the uneasiness couldn’t have come at a worse time.
I looked back again. I hadn’t heard the bird move, but it was now perched on a tree closer to me, and lower down, closer to my level. “It’s only a bird,” I thought. “Even if it does attack me with wrath and vengeance, I’ll win in a fight.”
Even with that mantra in my head, I was getting increasingly freaked out and paranoid. The bird was after me. The mantra disappeared. The thought of what would happen if it reached me no longer entered my mind, simply that it shouldn’t, it couldn’t!
My breathing became staggered and I quickened my pace. I had to reach home. I would be safe there. I could feel sweat coat my forehead, and run down the small of my back. I didn’t want to look back again. I didn’t. I just wanted to get home, lock the door, and relax in the security of my personal sanctum. I wanted to laugh off this silly little spell of bird fear that had gripped me.
I looked over my shoulder. The crow was perched on the branch directly over my head, above where I stood several seconds ago. Now I could see it properly. Its body and wings were coated in feathers so black that looking at it was like peering at a shape carved from a starless night sky. But its face was even more terrible.
Its face was a human’s face. It was the Harpy Crow.
I stood still, staring at the Harpy Crow in wonder, my body not moving even though my brain willed it. The crow was just as still, almost like a statue. The more I looked at its face, the more it looked like my face, except pale. Its small beady eyes devoid of any spark of life or soul, instead jet black, like the eyes of an ordinary crow.
The crow broke the tense stalemate by moving forward and opening its mouth, baring its razor sharp rows of teeth. Its mouth was far more horrifying and dangerous than any of Gary’s stories could give proper justice to.
I turned and ran. I had to get back home. I had to. My nose was running as I sprinted, and my heart was beating so fast that it was causing me pain in my chest, but still I sprinted. I sprinted until my legs protested, until my feet were sore.
Relief filled me as I finally reached my front door. I took out my keys, but in my haste and nerves, I couldn’t slot the right key correctly into the hole. A large part of me wanted to look behind me as I did this, but my reasoning was thankfully strong enough to stop me. I knew it was right behind me. I could feel it.
Finally, I got the door open, bolted inside, closed and locked the door, and collapsed into my armchair. I didn’t move for several minutes as my body calmed down. I looked out my lounge window, looking for the Harpy Crow that I knew had been following me, but it was nowhere to be seen. Maybe it was still in the park. Relieved, I went upstairs to my bedroom, and switched the computer on.
The curious side of me kept urging me to research more about the Harpy Crow, but I couldn’t. I was beginning to work up a small fever, so I opened the window wide, and went back to browsing the web. What I needed right now was distraction. Explanation could wait until I was ready for it. Maybe I’d ask Gary tomorrow if he knew anything else.
Nothing else happened until ten at night. I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, out of the second floor window. Too scared to look and see, I kept my eyes glued to the PC screen, but no amount of distraction could distract my mind from my returning paranoia. I swallowed, and mustered up all of my courage, then I turned to the window and shut it in one swift, panicked motion.
Nothing. There was nothing out there but darkness. Nothing visible in the window but the reflections of my room, of safety and comfort. I sighed with relief, shut it and drew the curtains shut. I then went to sleep.
The next morning, I drew the blinds back, and outside my window, scattered on the ledge, were black feathers. The crow was outside my window last night after all!
Then an even more disturbing revelation dawned on me. It wasn’t my face’s reflection I saw in the window last night…
The Lonely Man
A Creepypasta
For the past two or three years now, I have taken long walks through the forest just behind my house, mostly when I’m bored and there’s nothing to do (it can get rather lonely living in a small house far away from any town or city). I never had any real problems with these walks; nothing that would ever cause me to feel nervous or uncomfortable. This all changed during the winter of 2010.
It was during what was known as “The Big Freeze of 2010.” I looked out my windows at about half past eleven in the morning, and the whole forest behind my house was layered with snow. Because I was into photography at the time, I decided to go out and take pictures of the winter landscape and some trees from within the forest.
I went out into the snow and made my way into the forest where I usually like to have a walk. I had a small digital camera tucked away in my coat pocket. As I entered, the beauty of the forest amazed me, and I began to take pictures. However, as I was about to take the next picture, the camera stopped working.
I didn’t think about it much, and just decided to continue walking anyway. That is when I began to have this strange feeling. The snow stopped falling, the sounds of birds stopped, and the blistering cold wind came to a halt. There was this horrible feeling of loneliness looming over me that I had never felt before.
I continued walking, hoping that something would rid me of this feeling. Even something like a caw of a crow, even though it is not a pleasant sound, would at least let me know that I wasn’t alone.
As I continued this walk, there was suddenly a loud crack, then a sound of something crashing onto the bare forest floor. I jumped and looked behind me, noticing that one of the very young trees was lying on its side. My eyes scanned the forest, thinking that someone — or something — was behind me. I saw nothing. I had come to the conclusion that it was probably just some snow weighing the tree down, or perhaps the soil or roots were loose, causing it to fall.
The feeling of loneliness had left me completely. A new feeling had come to me, a feeling that I was being followed, even though it was unlikely that there would be anyone else in the forest. I resumed walking, this time much faster. I didn’t know whether to go back or continue walking. I decided I would continue as I thought it would be unlikely that anything was behind me.
As I walked, there was another loud crack. I looked down, thinking that I had stepped on a stick, but there were no sticks around me. I then looked behind me. Perhaps it was a bird, I thought to myself. I scanned the woods again, this time for longer, desperately looking for the source of the loud noise.
Then I saw it. My eyes fixed on this tall figure far in front of me. It was a tall “man.” It stood by a tree, and the trunk of a tree covered half of its long, thin body. From what I saw, it had a long, thick, dark cloak covering every inch of it; no skin or other body features were visible. It was perfectly still, not moving in the slightest. I stepped away slowly, not taking my eyes off it. But as my foot crunched down into the thick snow, it turned. It had two holes cut into the fabric of the cloak. Its eyes were not visible. We stared at each other for about a minute before I decided to turn and walk away.
I didn’t want to turn away from it, nor did I want to look at it. I just kept walking. My mind was in a complete mess. I don’t know if I was being foolish because I was scared. Perhaps it’s just some tall man in a cloak, going around trying to scare me as some kind of strange joke, I thought to myself. I peered over my shoulder, hoping that it had not moved. It was still there, not moving, its eyes staring at me as I walked away from it.
As I got further and further away, I looked behind me and noticed it was closer. I began walking faster and faster, but I did not run. I looked behind me to see if it was there, but it wasn’t. I thought it was hiding behind a tree, but it was not in sight. I decided to go back because it had clearly left.
For the first time in what seemed like a long time, I felt somewhat calm. I knew I wasn’t alone, but at least I knew I wasn’t being followed.
I walked back at a very steady pace even though I wanted to get back to my home as quickly as possible. I made it to the edge of the forest, and I took one final look behind me. I was hoping I would see nothing, but I was wrong. There it was again, and all my fears came rushing back. It was a few hundred yards away and approaching. It moved majestically across the snow and past the trees.
I tried to ignore it even though I was too terrified. I left the forest at a quick pace. My heart was pounding, and I quickly ran back towards my house. I glanced back, only to see it make its way back into the woods, its eyes staring at me constantly, its thick black eyes locked onto me. Its cloak brushed the branches of the trees as bits of snow tumbled down onto its cloak. Then it was gone. Its tree-like body disappeared into the foliage of the woods. For one moment, I felt safe.
When I got back into my home, I locked all the doors and closed the curtains. Even though I didn’t know what it was, I knew that it stalked me whilst I was in that forest. For all I know, it could have been a man trying to scare me, but I know that I will never go back into those woods again after that experience.
It was a strange experience. I didn’t know if the man in the cloak was a threat or not, or whether my brain was making me think he was following me. But I will never forget that day. Sometimes I think I can hear things outside my house at night, especially during the winter. Maybe it’s just my mind, or maybe it is still out there.
The Beckoning Pathway
Written by Shinigami.Eyes
There it was. That path I always wanted to travel down. I always loved hiking, and these woods had many beaten paths that just begged to be explored. I’d been down many of them, and some had gorgeous views and others were nothing more than spots that some nature-loving couples used for obvious sexual activity, judging by the discarded condom wrappers and occasional lost piece of clothing.
But this place had to be different, at least I hoped so. It was a long hike to get there, and it took me long enough to build the stamina to travel so far. Months upon months of exercise made my endurance much better and I would rarely get short of breath unless I was sprinting for long distances.
I looked better than I did in the previous months, that’s for sure. Not only that, but now I was in peak physical condition. I always wanted to look how I did at that point. I had lean muscle and I was curvy in all the right places. That gut I despised had finally shrunken away into oblivion, and I’d be damned if I’d let it return. After all, what woman wants to be fat and unhealthy?
But enough about that, let’s get back to the path. As I was saying, this place was beautiful. The trees here seemed older, the air seemed fresher, and the canopy above was so thick, hardly a sunbeam would pass through. The path itself seemed old and it carried an air of mystery that seemed to lure me in. I remember each time I would walk and catch sight of it; it always seemed to call to me.
Though I was very tempted, I knew that if I explored it then, I would be too exhausted to walk back out and get in my car to drive home. That is, until now. I was ready this time. The beckoning path seemed to lead me into nothing but pure darkness, but I knew there had to be more than that. There were probably all kinds of beautiful things waiting in that thick foliage, just waiting to be discovered. My curiosity always got the best of me. It was time to explore.
The trees were gigantic. They seemed to be nearly ancient; I knew some had to be hundreds of years old. Moss climbed up some of their trunks, only seeming to increase their age. The place seemed to be untouched by human hands if not for the scraggly trail. It seemed as though nature would overtake the bare dirt once again, soon.
For some reason, though, the occasional shiver would tease at the hairs on the back of my neck, making them stand on end. It wasn’t cold at all, though. It was at least seventy degrees Fahrenheit outside, so why did I feel so cold? I shrugged it off and decided to put on the hooded jacket I was carrying in my backpack.
I searched the area, just soaking in the natural beauty of the forest. Only then did I realize that the canopy formed by the outstretched branches was so thick that what beams of sunlight could come in were hardly any more than thin fingers that could barely illuminate the path.
I paused. Did I just hear breathing? I held my breath, checking to see if it was just my own. That seemed to be the case. I only laughed at myself for being so paranoid. But that chill returned as I forced a light-hearted chuckle.
My instincts were trying to take control. They were telling me to turn around and go back. They were telling me something was horribly wrong. They wanted the safety of the sunlight. I was an idiot. I pushed it all away. I disregarded all of those things as paranoia.
Just then, I saw a lumbering figure a few yards away, easily nine feet tall, though I only caught a glimpse. It seemed human, or at least simian. It passed behind a tree and I saw no other sign of it.
Needless to say, it scared the hell out of me. There were no apes, or for that matter, any other primates that fit a description matching what I had just seen in that area. There was a zoo nearby, but it would’ve been all over the news if something had broken loose.
I tried to convince myself that I was just seeing things, but it wasn’t working at all. My mind traveled back to all of the thoughts of Bigfoot, and how so many jokes were made about how it only exists in blurry out of focus areas, or that he, she, or it, was just someone’s excessively hairy hippy relative. I didn’t laugh, though. I couldn’t bring myself to. That invasive feeling of being watched was ever-so-present. Was I being monitored?
Now, visibility was damn near gone. Why did I want to keep pressing forth? Was I hoping to discover something? I still don’t know why I did that. I broke out my flashlight, shining it around in the thicket of trees, only to make a fascinating discovery.
There were carvings on the trees. Some of the bark was peeled off of some and primitive carvings were inlaid in the wood. What struck me as odd was that much of the art I saw resembled the art of evolution, but one thing unnerved me greatly. The final stage, human beings as we know them, was missing. Did this mean that we were just as mythological to Sasquatch as they are to us? I took a step forward to view the carved image a little more closely. A branch cracked beneath me, only causing me to let out a startled yelp.
This had to be a joke. I had to see what was behind this. I continued. The terrain began to grow a little more difficult to climb, but I had to know. That was either my best or worst trait. If something intrigues or interests me, I must get to the bottom of it, even if it’s the last thing I do. I certainly don’t feel that way anymore.
Soon, I felt that chill again. I was being watched, and that was clear. Rustling sounds weren’t heard, but maybe whatever was watching me had lived here since the beginning of its time. One thing began to confuse me, though. Another source of light was nearby. There was a dull, yellow glow to it. It appeared someone had made a fire nearby. Maybe I could ask them for help finding my way out? I was definitely lost by now and it was probably dark, even outside of the woods, at this hour. I could also smell meat cooking, only reminding me of how long it had been since I’d had a good meal. I turned off my flashlight, following the dim light.
I decided to look into this further, walking as quietly as I could until the fire came into sight. It was a rather small fire, but what I saw frightened me. There was a whole group of these simian bipeds, fitting the classical description of Sasquatch, gathered around the fire. They seemed to communicate in grunts and guttural vocalizations, but it wasn’t so much their presence that frightened me. It was the meat they were preparing.
A sharpened stick was driven through what had obviously once been two human legs, arms, and a torso. The head appeared to be missing. The grunts suggested they were communicating, but I found myself stumbling backwards in terror. My flight reflex was taking over. I could fight my instincts as much as I wanted to, earlier, but this time, I’d let them take control. My heart was racing in fear and I spun around, only one way left. I was going back the way I came.
Now, with my flashlight to guide me, I had to find my way out. Running on adrenaline alone, I was terrified, but I knew that getting out of here could be a life or death situation. Once I had made it back to the strange carvings, something made my heart feel as though it was about to leap through my chest.
Leaves and branches were snapping. I was standing still.
This only made me start running again, faster this time, but was there any hope for me? Whatever it was knew this forest better than I did and there was no time for me to summon up a little plan to “outsmart” this thing. All I could do was hope I was in better shape than it was. It was in pursuit of me, but fortunately, I seemed to be a step ahead. There was no way I could lose it in the forest, but at least if I made it back to civilization, it would probably flee. After all, what’s more dangerous to a beast than a group of intelligent prey?
I could see the opening to the path I had entered from, and somehow, it was still just barely light outside. The fiery glow of the sunset was lighting the sky and casting a tangerine glow over everything in sight. I would’ve taken pleasure in the beauty of it if I wasn’t so positive I was being chased. My legs were carrying me as fast as they could and I was finally into the clearing and on the beaten trail that others before me had worn. If I knew anything right now, it was that I shouldn’t look back. I had to keep running, find my way to the car, and drive home.
I didn’t even listen to find out if I was still being followed. My red sedan came into sight and I quickly swung my bag off one arm and tugged the keys from the outside pocket, unlocking the vehicle and getting inside, just hoping I heard nothing. Before peeling out of the stretch of country road that led me there, I saw one thing in my rear-view window…
A bipedal simian, akin to the missing link, covered in dark hair with a sloping forehead could be seen bearing its teeth, as if challenging me. When the engine to my vehicle started and I revved the motor, the primitive beast fled in what might’ve been terror. It was a quiet drive back home.
After I finally got the chance to get inside the house and relax, I began to realize something.
Sasquatch, or Bigfoot, whatever you want to call the apparent missing link between humans and their simian cousins were always thought to be peaceful, but several people disappear every year and are never found. Yes, there are many reported sightings of such beings, but did you ever think that they haven’t been collected by scientists and researched because so few have lived to tell about them? I don’t know if I’m correct, but the human remains roasting over that fire suggest that I am. Is it possible that this strange race is jealous of humanity for its advanced technology?
I may never know, but I can tell you one thing. I’m not about to return to that path to find out.
