Welcome to Creepypasta and Scary Stories
Hello, I am your host Spooky Boo. Tonight I have for you 3 very creepy stories about cults to listen to before you go to sleep. These Creepypasta stories are brought to you by authors of the internet. Whether they’re true or not, I’ll let you be the judge. Tell me what you think on my website at www.creepypastascarystories.com.
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Now, let’s begin…
Story One
The Cult of the Dead
Bruce and his two friends, Martin and Josh, sat around the campfire in the clearing just in front of the bush. It was around midnight, and they had just finished a night of drinking and campfire stories, now they sat in silence. Bruce stared into the fire captivated by its beauty, the way it danced around warming them in the cold, early morning climate. Suddenly, Max, Josh’s German Sheppard, perked its head up off the ground and stared into the bush behind them. For a good minute, he didn’t move, and just stared deep into the wilderness. Finally, he slowly walked over and lay down on the ground next to Josh. Bruce lent over and picked his shotgun off the ground, tightening his grip on the barrel as he placed it onto his lap. Bruce slowly turned his head to face the rest of the group, the worst it could have been was a dingo. Sure, they were shy of humans but worrying that they had sensed food Bruce was certain they could be attacked.
Martin was standing so that he was facing into the bush, his shotgun also in his hands. At six-foot four-inches tall he was an intimidating man. Then, they heard it, the rustling began. Martin raised his gun so that he was ready to shoot at any sight of a dingo. He swatted the mosquitoes away from his face and stared deeply into the bush. Josh was now standing too, hatchet in hand. Realising that he was the only one not on guard, Bruce quickly stood up and turned to face the bush. The rustling sound started to get closer, Bruce didn’t know why but it sent chills up his spine. In fact, it almost didn’t sound like a dingo, but rather, human.
“What do you reckon it is?” asked Bruce in a slightly nervous tone that left him embarrassed.
“I don’t know, it’s getting late why don’t you two go to bed and I’ll stand guard with Max,” replied Martin, lowering his gun and glancing over at the three sleeping bags laying on the ground.
However, before Bruce could respond to Martin’s proposal, Max suddenly leaped back up on his feet. The hairs on his back stood up straight as he began to growl, staring out into the bush. The rustling started again, this time it was at the very edge of it, so very close to Bruce and his friends. Martin and Bruce raised their guns once again and pointed them out into the bush. Then, before any of them could stop him, Max ran off into it barking. Without thinking much of it, Martin ran off into the bush not saying a word after him, leaving Josh and Bruce in silence.
The silence was painful and seemed to last forever; the rustling had seemed to have come to a halt and the cicadas had begun to produce their ear-piecing calls again. Bruce’s heart pounded in his chest like a drum, he slowly turned his head to face Josh. A full year younger than both Martin and Bruce, Josh was obviously anxious about the whole ordeal. Sweat was trickling down his forehead and his grip on the hatchet was shaky, as he stared wide-eyed out into the bush. Suddenly, the most terrifying scream that either Josh or Bruce had heard in their life penetrated through the foliage that was q uickly followed by two gunshots.
Bruce just stood his with his mouth open, unable to comprehend what was happening. John quickly spun around and began to run back in the direction of the road, not thinking to take the car parked only a few meters away from him. He ran in the direction of the road; he was not ready to die. However, both he and Bruce knew that he would never find any cars on a road that deserted at this hour. Bruce leaped into action, opening the car door with force and diving inside. He quickly pulled the keys out of his pocket and jammed them into ignition, the sweat on his hands made his hand tremble, but he could start the car no troubles and drove off in Josh’s direction.
As far as both Bruce and Josh knew, Martin could be dead. It was obvious at this point that what he had found in that bush was no dingo, in fact, it was unlikely to be any animal at all. Bruce slowed the car down slightly as he unwound the window with his sticky sweaty hands and called out to Josh to get in. Without stopping the car, Josh climbed into the back and Bruce sped up out of there and turned onto the road.
“That was close,” sighed Josh, panting heavily.
Bruce continued to drive for only about five minutes, before as he was passing the bush that they were only minutes before camping at, a tall man walked out onto the road.
“Martin?” Josh asked Bruce.
“I don’t know,” he answered as he stopped next to the man with his back turned to the car.
Even when they were this close it was so dark that Bruce was not able to make out if it was Martin or not. However, he decided that he would try and find out who it was. Slowly, he unwound the window a fraction as Josh reached over and grabbed Bruce’s shotgun.
“Martin, is that you?” Bruce asked.
The man then turned around to face them and just stared at the window. Still unable to make out any facial features, Bruce lent over and opened the glove box pulling out a small and cheap but rather effective torch. He pointed it at the man and turned it on.
To Bruce’s terror he realised that this was not Martin. It was no man either. It was a tall human figure, with a cloak on. The hood was off so that Bruce could make its face. It had absolutely no skin on it, just bare muscle and bone. Its bloodshot eyes appeared to stick out from its face and its mouth hung open letting out a loud, deep breathing sound.
Josh reacted quickly shooting it point blank in the face, as Bruce attempted to drive off but to his terror the car wouldn’t move. He looked back out the window only to see that the thing outside had absolutely no damage to his face and was holding onto the car door with its skeletal hands with strength so immense that Bruce was unable to drive away.
Josh fired at the thing again, once again nothing happened. In a panic, he opened the car door on the opposite side and ran down the road. The thing then ripped the car door off its hinges and ripped Bruce out of the car seat. Bruce kicked and screamed as he tried to escape but it was futile, it then slammed Bruce onto the ground and he passed out.
Josh’s heart throbbed in his chest as he ran from the car. He had only ran about fifty meters when he turned his head to look behind him to see no creature there. Bruce was lying on the road, passed out and the door was ripped off its hinges but it was no longer there.
Josh continued to sprint for his life. Then he felt it, a sharp, agonising pain in his leg. He looked down and saw the arrow sticking out if it as he collapsed to the rough asphalt road. Adrenaline kicked in as he struggled onto his feet and continued to hobble across the road. However, he did not get far. From the bush ran a group of about 20 or so people wearing masks made from human skulls, they approached Josh. He cried out for mercy only to be smacked over the head by a club and to pass out.
Bruce awakened to the smell of faeces and looked around himself. He was in a prison cell, surrounded by bloodstained stone walls; the bars of the cell were made of human bones. Josh was nowhere in sight, Bruce walked up to the bars and looked out. He didn’t know where he was but he could determine that he was underground, then he looked down. The crowd of people that captured Josh were down there, skull masks on, all of them carried a fire torch. The thing stood upon a pedestal and crouched next to him on a leash, wearing nothing but torn rags was Josh.
“Hail Father!” chanted the crowd repeatedly as they raised torches.
The thing then walked across the pedestal and sat down on the stone-cut throne on the edge. The glow of the torches made its disfigured face look even more sinister then before. It then spread out its arms and exclaimed,
“Kill for me, my children!”
Josh looked up at the crowd and let out a moan. He was still recovering from the smack to his head earlier and was still rather incapacitated, then sudden five large men from the crowd jumped up onto the pedestal and began to tear Josh apart. Bruce watched in terror as they teared off his limbs and head; blood squirted out down the stairs of the pedestal and onto the ground at its base. The thing then rose out of the throne and placed his hands into the pool of Josh’s blood and then continued to smear it onto his face; the crimson blood dripped from it. It then burst into flames and vanished from sight.
Bruce stared out through the bars in utter shock; what could he have possibly done? Then, he heard a raspy voice from behind him,
“He’ll be back in ten years for more souls. Then we’ll be next.”
Story Two
Self-Improvement Network
My name is Robert Straw, Jr. but everyone calls me Bobby for short. I’m writing down my story because someone needs to hear about this, whether they believe me or not. It all started months ago, when I was browsing the internet for anything that would catch my interest. Eventually, I came across an ad for a local motivational speaker named Elias Hutchison and his group, called the Self-Improvement Network. It said that they were always looking for new members and catered to anyone who didn’t consider themselves “perfect in every way”.
Of course that applied to me because I’m not a narcissist. So I looked into some of his sample videos to get an idea as to what this group was all about. He spoke about how the traditional education and employment systems were flawed and both make it much harder and more expensive to follow your dreams. He also said that it’s easy to be lazy and blame other people for your shortcomings, but the only person that can propel you forward is yourself. The more I listened, the more I agreed.
Before long, I had signed up for Elias’ newsletter and was watching his videos every day without exception. There was just something about this guy that made me feel like he was speaking directly to me. All my life, I had been trying to please everyone else without stopping to think whether it would get me closer to something that I wanted. Here he was, offering to teach me how to take responsibility for my own destiny and take from life whatever I wanted from it. After about three or four weeks, I decided it was time to officially join the network.
When I subscribed to the group online, I immediately got an e-mail notifying me of the location and time that we were to meet that week. That Saturday afternoon, we gathered at a nearby high school auditorium in front of a stage with a podium in front. Elias came out from behind the curtain, and his presence was even more commanding in person. He was tall, statuesque, and in better physical shape than anyone else in the room. Yet, he never came off as if he felt superior. The way he spoke made me feel like he considered all of us to be equals.
He asked if there was anyone new in the audience, and I raised my hand. Then, he asked me to stand up, introduce myself to the group, and give a brief summary of why I was there. I did, and he smiled and said that I would especially appreciate the lesson he had planned to teach us. When he began his lecture, entitled “Physical Fitness: The Outer Shell of Success”, I listened intently and even took notes.
The message was all about how people in poor physical shape, like I was at the time, are generally unmotivated to pursue whatever makes them happy. Instead, they cling to easy comforts like fatty foods and television. But he never sounded judgmental towards those people. He simply illustrated that if they could find the right motivation within themselves, they could re-shape their body and, as he put it, “Get hard”.
In retrospect, this was the first of many instances where Elias would utilize a term or phrase that could easily be converted into a sex joke by the juvenile-minded. However, no one in the group went there and I barely noticed it. He went on to say that getting in good physical shape was not only beneficial to the health of the body, but also of the spirit. Because that drive could also be used to find financial success in one’s chosen career path.
After the message, I asked him about a workout regimen and diet plan. He said there was a health and fitness section on his website that I could consult any time, since I was now an official member of the network. I didn’t remember seeing it when I was on there before, but I went home and found it without much trouble. The next day I started changing everything about what I ate, even going shopping for healthier and less processed foods. For the first time in a long time, I went to the gym to workout.
I must have been doing something right, because I was dropping weight day after day. All the while, I watched Elias’ videos about “getting hard” and “growing thick”. At the next meeting, I showed off how I’d been burning fat and gaining muscle. Elias called it “obtaining rich spoils” and compared it to historic examples of Vikings and pirates with their plundering and thieving.
About a month later, I had worked my way to a promotion and a raise. Even my boss didn’t know what was different about me, but recognized that I was on my way to success. Elias was also impressed, and I asked him if there was anything I could do to be more involved with the group that had changed my life in such a positive way. He told me there was a smaller group that he was a part of that met separately and would often inspire his message for the Self-Improvement Network meetings. Intrigued, I asked what I would need to do to join.
He pulled me further aside and said that it was a clandestine group and that, in order to join, I had to swear not to breathe a word about anything that happened there to another living soul. In addition, I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement for legal reasons. I figured he just didn’t want the source of his self-help secrets getting out for free, so I obliged. Elias told me that they were meeting the next night in the basement of a church that was closed for renovation.
Needless to say, it’s a little strange to meet in an abandoned church, but I felt like I owed Elias the benefit of the doubt. I went into the darkened basement and immediately shivered at the cold temperature of the room. I only saw the light of a torch on the wall. Elias appeared, taking the torch from the wall and motioned for me to follow him. The basement was a lot bigger than I expected, and it was like being led through a labyrinth of concrete.
We approached a room with a stone platform in the center, surrounded by chairs. It seemed like an odd choice for a table to sit around, but I figured it was just part of the old church. I was handed a robe and instructed to put it on. I did and, as the group lit more torches around the room, I could see that they were all wearing them.
The meeting began with Elias speaking about how it was one thing to be motivated and successful, but their true purpose was to ascend to levels of authority where they could influence others to their will. One member introduced himself as a lawyer, another as a college professor, and one was even a priest at the church before it was closed.
They each claimed that they were losing their charismatic ability to appeal to people. The priest was feeling un-welcome at the church he had temporarily transferred to. The professor was starting to see students showing less interest in his lectures. The lawyer said he was losing cases. Elias even pointed out something I hadn’t even noticed: that the attendance of his meetings was beginning to drop.
One man who had been quiet the whole time stood up and removed his hood. I recognized him from seeing him on television. He was a senator from our state of Georgia. He said, “It’s time once again to appeal to OUR authority.”
The professor nodded and said, “I took care of that. One of my students spends so much time texting in class that she didn’t notice when I added something to her coffee.”
He brought out a young woman who was tied up and gagged. Her face was covered in tears as she tried desperately to scream for help. They threw her onto the table, and the senator produced an old book. Elias pulled from his robe a medieval dagger with symbols carved into the blade. I was frozen in horror. I wanted to help the girl, and stop this madness. But for some reason, I just couldn’t move.
The senator began reading from the book in some ancient language, most likely Latin. While the others were chanting, “Give us the power of will, oh lord,” repeatedly. When the senator finished reading, Elias plunged the dagger into the woman’s chest and the other members grabbed goblets from the table. They started collecting the blood as it poured out from her body, and they were drinking it.
The only thing I could do was cover my mouth with my hand in an attempt to stop the horrified scream from escaping my lips. I was in utter shock, but I also knew that reacting the way I wanted to would likely turn them against me. In an act of self-preservation, I continued to go along with it. Elias handed me a goblet and told me to drink, so that I may acquire power and influence over people, the way they had.
Feeling the pressure, I put the goblet to my lips and started drinking. It was sickening, and I wanted so badly to spit it out. But I kept thinking that even the slightest sign of disgust could get me killed. So, I downed the whole thing. The meeting was apparently over after that, as they began taking off their robes and cleaning up the body. Elias said to me before he left, “Now you have the power to influence people as I do. Use it as you wish.”
That is why I am writing this all down. Because if I actually gained some ability to influence people, I want to use it to make them believe me that the Self-Improvement Network is just one organization headed by a blood-sacrificing cult member. I know how crazy it sounds, but if there is anyone out there who believes me, maybe there’s a chance that these monsters can be found out for what they are. Even if you don’t believe me, just keep in mind that no matter how charismatic or benevolent an authority figure may seem, you never know what dark secrets they may be keeping.
Story Number 3
The Crocodile Cult
I know, you will all question my sanity after reading this. Saying this was all made up. I know you will and if you don’t believe me, honestly I would not blame you. So many have made claims of stories so easily proven as someone’s sick imagination. But this is not my imagination.
One summer evening, I was sitting on my laptop doing some research on a book I had to read for school over the summer, the summer had just started and I had nothing else to do. I was rather lonely as my boyfriend had gone on vacation and my best friend, Tina had moved to Morgan City from our New Orleans neighborhood. I knew her since I was four years old. We shared everything together from our favorite memories to other people’s secrets. They moved after her mother wanted a divorce. Her father was broken up about this because he never understood why. He thought the marriage was perfect. He blamed the city and thus moved away from it.
I found out through my mother that she wanted to divorce because of his over religious views that did not follow her more liberal views on life. Her father’s religious views were nothing new, most people in Louisiana were very religious. But her father was a weird type of religious. He always blessed him before he did anything of merit or if he was scared. One time he got upset when I said, “Oh my God.”
Anyway, as I was doing research, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Tina. I was ecstatic. When she moved, she rarely texted me. I assumed she moved on and made new friends or something of the sort. I didn’t blame her for that. It’s human nature to move on. I opened my phone, yes this happened before iPhones were around so opening the phone was a way of reading a text.
The text read “Hey Sam, it’s me Tina lol. Idk if u still had my number.” With a wide smile on my face, I course responded immediately.
“Lol, hey Tina. I still had your number. How are you?”
“I’m good Sam. Missed u so much.”
“I missed u 2! :)”
“Anyway, I was wondering u were interested in comin down to my new house. Dad is letting me have a get together here.”
“I’d luv to!”
“Alright, it’s at 43 3rd street. It starts at 8:30.”
“K. Can’t wait. Lol.”
I went to my mother who was busy watching the latest in generic soap operas. I asked her if I could go to Tina’s for the party. She knew how much I missed her and didn’t have to worry about driving me as I could drive myself. She was more worried about who would be out at night. I convinced her I was a smart driver and could outsmart any drunk who swerved. I knew she wasn’t worried about me being one of them. Plus Tina’s father was against underage drinking.
The next day, I got my best clothes that were not formal. It was a pair of clean jeans with a tank top. It was a hot night. I made sure it wasn’t too revealing. I didn’t want to be reticulated.
I got into my car and started the engine. I backed out and drove down the road. I listened to music as I drove. The night sky was dark, the stars were out but it was a new moon. Without the moon, there was a weird atmosphere, especially since Morgan City is close to the swamps.
As I drove, a flash of high beams went behind me. It almost blinded me. The car was right behind me, I pulled over because I thought he wanted to tell me something. I was right, the pick-up pulled up next to me.
“Hello, do you know the way to Morgan City?” I paused, did he not see the signs that pointed to all the directions that lead to the city. But I nodded and pointed to the road.
“Thank you, say you’re very pretty.” I was pretty sure he was hitting on me, but I took the compliment.
“Thanks but I have a boyfriend.”
“Well, I figured. The reason why I said that is because, it seems you are a bit, revealing…” his voice trailed off. Now I felt like he was a peeper and sweat went down my back. I cringed and uneasily pulled up my shirt. He nodded and pulled away. I looked around and drove away.
The driver left me feeling uneasy but a few minutes later and it was all over with. I continued to drive when yet another driver flashed me with the high beams. I froze in terror when I saw them. I realized that it wasn’t the same guy but it was the second time. I decided to pull over.
The driver pulled up and I was happy to see it was a woman. She looked at me with a smile.
“What are you doing so late at night?” her voice reminded me of a nice old lady’s.
“Going to my friend’s house?”
“Oh do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend?” I looked confused at her before I realized that she was wondering if I was straight or not. Something looked down on by the religious. It was also odd that she would ask this, especially out of the blue like this.
“Um. Boyfriend.”
“Oh. Are you a virgin?” Her voice’s sweetness was drained away and she sounded like a witch. I nodded and I went to go step on the gas.
“You weren’t drinking right?” I nodded. This lady was creeping out more than the potential creeper. She was intrusive. I was sweating again
“Well I saw you swerving.” I thought she was seeing things. I wasn’t swerving I knew that for a fact. But I nodded politely. Things were getting weirder. She just drove away.
I felt more and more uneasy. Those two were making me wonder if I was being watched. A part of me wanted to back up and go straight home. However, I wanted to see Tina and I knew that she would be upset if I wasn’t there. I was almost there and plus she probably wouldn’t be able to hear her phone.
I went closer into the swamps. The mist was heavy now. I could barely see. I turned on my high beams. I went a little further feeling uneasy. Once again, I was hit with high beams. I was more and more nervous. Sweat was pouring all around me. I went to the side of the road. A man walked over toward me.
“Hello ma’am,” he said in a kind southern gentleman’s voice. It was weird.
“Hi,” I said, shaken. I couldn’t tell if he knew about it. He gave a slight laugh.
“Well, one of your tires seems to be coming off.” I froze. I had heard about the Zodiac using this trick to unscrew a woman’s tire. Without flinching I sped away. I must have run over his foot as I heard a crunch and him lying on the ground in the rear view.
As I drove down the swamp, I saw something strange to my left. A faint yellow light was far away. I didn’t know if it was a campfire or something like that. But I didn’t plan on stopping. I kept increasing speed than I saw something. Two cars were blocking the road. My heart began pounding out of my chest. I could hear my blood flowing through my blood streams. I stepped on the breaks. I saw two men step out and walked toward the car. I adjusted the stick and went in reverse. My foot became a block of lead as the tires kicked up mud. I didn’t look back for a second. I hit something behind me, it smashed my bumper. I was stunned by the collision. I saw another man come at me from behind, the two in front didn’t stop. I went to scream but the clench of fear grabbed my throat.
I went for my door but they broke my windows. They reached grabbed for them. One managed to wrap their hands around my throat. I struggled but I didn’t want to get killed. I figured playing dead would help, so I froze and then blacked out.
I woke up in a horrible scene. I was in a wooden cage made out of branches and vines, completely made by hand. It was impressive. I felt sick to my stomach. I looked to my left and saw similar cages, they were more broken down. I looked at my hands and saw my hands were bound. There was a gag in my mouth. I wanted to chew through it, but I was much too weak. I looked out to the sky, I couldn’t tell what time I was. I was stripped of my phone, my watch, my necklace, and my earrings. I checked and luckily, I had all my clothes on and, although being muddy, were not torn.
I blinked heavily, still trying to figure out what was going on. I thought if Tina was wondering about me. I looked out and began to silently pray. I was sweating, making my cold body even colder. The mud sent chills up my spine. I heard the cage open. Two big men with mud plastered on their faces and they had weird markings on their chests. They grabbed me by the arms and forcefully dragged me out. One picked me up by the arms, one by the legs. I was scared, I began to cry with trying to hide it. I felt like I was in the middle of torture horror movie like Hostile. I could barely see in the fog but what I did see was just like the light I saw as I drove. Five homemade torches were put in a circle.
That’s when I saw something horrifying. It gives me chills to this day when I think about it. My nerves were turned up high as I approached it. It was a stone altar with a crocodile on top of it. The crocodile was dried and cut open. Its jaws were ripped open to an unnatural size. Its vital organs were removed. They laid me down, I tried to shake free but it didn’t work. Blood went up and down my back which meant one of two things. One, they had done this recently and the blood hadn’t been cleaned or two, they have done this before… and recently.
More people appeared. I couldn’t tell who these people were but based off of the figures, I noticed the creeper, the woman and the tire repairman. But there was more. All men or women. That’s when, even though I was upset down, I saw what shocked me more than anything else. In Native America style body painting was Tina’s father. He was leading this. This sick ritual was led by one of the most religious people I knew. I went to scream but I was muffled. I was all confused. It made no sense unless. No she couldn’t be. She wouldn’t. That’s when I swallowed my thoughts and a piece of me, had just been shot in the forehead.
Tina walked next to her father. She looked at me with a straight face. I was in complete shock. I was not prepared for this. Sadly, it began to make sense. Why would she come out of the blue, why so late? It started to make sense but I wouldn’t have guessed that before. I felt betrayed but I had to figure out how to get out alive. He raised his hand and they were silent.
“Do you accept safety with God?” asked Tina’s father. I nodded.
“LIAR! You indecent, inhuman virus!” He gave Tina a small torch and she placed it at my side. I wailed in began to cry. I thought I was not going to make it out alive. She removed the torch. I was sobbing. I shook my head.
“Are you a sinner?” I nodded. I doubted my escape. In fact, I thought I knew I was going to die. He began speaking Latin. I was getting nervous. I had no idea what he was speaking about. Finally the nail was in the coffin. Tina took a knife and cut my upper chest. I sobbed as I felt blood escape me. I closed my eyes. I felt two men grab my arms and lifted me up. I was feeling weak as they shoved me in the swamp. I was thrashing but than an idea hit me. Playing dead, I closed my eyes and stopped moving.
Luckily, it worked. I stopped moving and I was lifted up out of the water. I laid motionless, eyes opened. I prayed they wouldn’t check my pulse. I guess they didn’t see that as important. I was still bleeding however it was covered by mud a bit. It was a swamp. I was dragged away and tossed onto a pile.
I knew just want the pile was made of. It was a pile of bodies. They were all sacrificed in this sick ritual. I was scared I had to find a way to escape. I heard a weird prayer ceremony going on. I pushed off the wet skin of the dead. The cloth they used to bind me was soaked and weak due to the water, so I easily ripped them off. It was a disgusting scene, they were pale, cut, and in torn clothes. The smell. I will never forget the smell. They were rotting away, in the open. Repulsive, absolutely repulsive. I looked at saw what made this all the more strange. At the bottom of the pile, but facing out toward me, was Tina’s mother. She was one of the first. I throw up in my mouth but kept to down in order to keep quiet. I heard the chanting get louder. I knew that they wouldn’t hear me. I ripped my shirt and quickly applied pressure to my wound. It was painful but at this point. I had too. I was in full survival mode. With my knees weak and this stab wound, I had to force myself to run.
I was sick to my stomach but I ran. I made a dash, the mud slammed underneath my footprints, making small splashes. I didn’t care. I wanted to survive. I didn’t look back but I did hear something. I heard the chanting stop.
“Sinner! The sinner is a demon!”
Those sick bastards, they thought I was a demon. I tried to think of how or what caused them to be this way. But I focused on running. I started to sprint. The trees were thick as was the fog. I hope they couldn’t see but I heard them rush at me. I sprinted further, my lungs were burning. I felt that they were melting.
When I stopped, I saw an area of rusted cars. Some have been here for quite a while, others are just as fresh as maybe weeks, maybe days. One of them was my car with a busted bumper. I heard the footsteps come. I slid under a car and they rushed past me. I took slow breaths. I felt something grab my leg and my heart sank. I kicked and was about to scream, but it let go. I looked and saw a snake slithered past me.
I caught my breath only to begin to run. I ran into the dirt road that led to the swamp where I was found. I don’t really remember the rest because I collapsed. I went into shock and collapsed. All I could get out were the words, crocodile, Tina and why.
I woke up three days later. The police interviewed me and I told them everything. It was painful, I felt like crap, totally beaten up. I had bruises and the stab wound was infected due to the mud that, ironically, probably saved my life.
A week later the police came back with news. They couldn’t find the cult. They couldn’t find anything. However, they found the bodies. No evidence with them and if they did find them, they couldn’t charge them. They did find my phone and gave it to me. It was dead. I pulled it, thankful I didn’t need a new one. When I turned it on it had two messages.
The first was from Tina saying “Where r u?” sent at 8:30 of that night. The second was from my other friend, Abby. It read “Tina invited me to a party at 8:30. Her place in Larabee. Did you get the invite?” That was sent two days ago, while I was out.
They had moved again… they lured another victim… I cried that night. I felt the pain in my gut.
So this is why I write to you all now. I know you all think I’m crazy but I swear I’m not. This was my experience. If you don’t believe me, like I said, I won’t blame you, in fact, I understand. But I know what I saw. I want to warn you, however, sometimes things aren’t as they seem…
