Spooky Boo’s Creepypasta and True Scary Stories
Welcome to Spooky Boo’s Creepypasta and True Scary Stories. I am your host Spooky Boo. Tonight I have for you some very spooky stories about crows and ravens. These beautiful corvid birds have been misunderstood for centuries and yet still they are smarter than man humans. Perhaps one day they’ll take over the world!
Please consider supporting the channel so I can grow and continue the craft. I love bringing you stories but it does take some time and even equipment. If you’d like to help out the podcast or YouTube channel, visit the club at www.spookyboo.club.
Now let’s begin.
Crows
You wake up, open the window, and take a look outside while taking in a big gulp of the fresh morning air. You see a bunch of crows over there, on your neighbour’s roof. But have you ever thought about their significance? I mean birds are important in cultures, religion, politics (symbolism), science, cuisine (I mean who doesn’t love chicken?), geography, and even the military. Now what I’m asking here is nothing uncommon. You may have heard of The Birds by Alfred Hitchcock, which is based on unsettling events. But why crows? Crows have exceptionally incredible memory. We thought dolphins and monkeys were the #1 most intelligent animals. We were damn wrong. Where did I find out about this? Why, on channel 9, on that Nature programming. I can’t remember the exact episode but there is one particular episode you should see. It is called “A Murder of Crows”. You can also find out about them from the news. So how is this all related? Crow’s are magnificent creatures, like Elephants, and should be treated as such. Or would you prefer facing retaliation?
I remember a time when I used to play with birds. Laugh with them. I yearned to fly just so I could be with them. But there are several misdeeds that I did against them that I regret to this day. For example, there was a white geese that seemed to have been adopted by a flock of Canada geese (this was when I was young by the way). I shot at it with a water gun. It fled and it has never returned since this day. I found this peculiar, as it would always visit the apartment complex where I live. So I decided to study birds to find out why this occurred. The more closer I got to them, the more peculiar they became. At first it was just harmless internet research. I remember bookmarking all the articles about birds. I had sticky notes on my walls. Color photos and pictures of birds decorating my closet.
But then I decided to get up close and personal. I remember when I went to this national park and all the birds were friendly and showed no fear. One was a blue jay. It allowed me to get close to it. Heck, it even flew into my car. I encountered another one near the parking area. Didn’t show any sign of fear. But it was when I drove into that forest that the encounters grew extraordinary unusual. I found a good spot from which I could get a lot of good footage. I went there, sat at the stone bench, and there it was, that very same bird had come to me. But at the same time, I heard this voice. It was mocking me. It was malicious. It was coming from high up in the tree tops. I had experienced this very same phenomenon (only it was multiple voices intertwined in a deadly chorus) from a murder of crows resting on a tree near the garage roof. What did I do? I retaliated. The following days, I found them everywhere I went, hearing that dreaded noise and a garble of whistles and chirps whenever I was out in the open outdoors. I have since locked myself up in my room, shut the windows, even the door, never having tasted fresh air for what may be decades. I’m sorry, I don’t even keep track of time. I can’t remember the bloody settings for my computer.
You may have noticed something amiss when I referred to The Birds. It’s actually based on a story that was inspired by observation and imagination. If you didn’t see the lie I presented then, how did you feel? Was it unsettling? By all means, don’t hold back. You must tell me!
This is not madness you see before you. This is not an obsession gone wild. You must tell them how you feel, your darkest innermost desires. You cannot hide it from them. They know. They know what you do day and night. They follow you believe it or not. But whatever you do, you must not retaliate, you must not show any sign of hostility or hatred in their presence. They are preparing, even arranging the so-called accidents and unexplainable deaths and disappearance that befall man. They know their purpose. They are not thieves. They are not inept. They are a society bent on man’s suffering and sorrow. I should not be saying this, but I’m safe right? They can’t get in here. This is a fortified structure. How can they break through?
I admit, they broke my mind that night. When they rode upon clouds of indiscernible color and looked at me with those pitchblack eyes. I was mesmerized. I may have snapped. They snatched from me, they escaped, and what not. Everything was gone in a flash. Only this room. Yes, this room is my only safehaven. It is dark as night and soft as my mattress and my fluffy white blankets (I have no need for these blankets to keep me warm). The blinds may be a little dark blue (they were once luminescent bright blue), but that’s what happens when you use the contrast of human blood pigments as your inspiration. After all, I did it for them. I killed many to secure my security. I retaliated. They embraced me in return, in their red feathers. They came for me and I welcomed them. I joined them.
One thing is certain. You must never retaliate, even if it means allowing them to swallow you into their abysmal doom. Your rebirth is guaranteed if you surrender. You were once a killer, who brought down societies with deceit and delivered a quick strike to mansions and injected poisons into the minds of your people and what not. Basically, an evil minded fool. Now you are a greater killer, a predator who has mastery over the skies and what not. You have only one goal. To eradicate the presence of inferiors and lowlifes and what not. And you have them, all of them, at your side, supporting you wherever you go. They who tore your flesh to pieces with their many [brethren] and their trimmed beaks and feasted on your bones. They are now your allies.
Crows, the Abyss, and Dancing Shadows
Written by Akaecius
Some time ago, I had a very long day at my college from 8 AM to 6 PM; needless to say, when I got home I was very tired. I skipped dinner and went straight to bed, slept straight from 6 PM to 11 PM.
This is where the weird shit starts; my parents are usually awake until at least 12 PM every day but the whole house was silent and there was no light at all. Getting out of my bed and checking the ground floor of my house for my parents, then walking up the stairway to check on them, I noticed how most of the doors were closed, which is weird since we have cats (note: I didn’t see or hear any of my cats that day) and they don’t like the closed doors, plus there’s always the risk of trapping them somewhere.
The living room was empty but the television was running (so far the only source of light except for the ones I had ignited) it was only showing static and the sound was muted. “Okay,” I thought and turned off the television, no big deal my dad might have forgotten to shut it down. Turning off the television I went to check my parents’ bedroom, my parents weren’t making any sound, they weren’t snoring etc., but there was clearly someone underneath the duvets so I just went downstairs and grabbed some water before heading to bed myself.
Now that I think of it, it’s astounding how black that night was. There was no light from the stars and the moon wasn’t visible either. The lights that usually light up the water tower visible in the horizon from the window in the kitchen weren’t lit either, plus, the soft flickering yellow light usually cast by the old worn-down streetlights down next to my window wasn’t in place either. All in all I can describe that night as is simply cold and dark.
Going to sleep thinking nothing of it I quickly fell asleep, but not into the usual dark, dreamless sleep (I don’t usually dream/remember my dreams) the best way to describe my sleep is a series of short dreams all ending in my demise or at least scaring the living shit out of me.
The first dream was rather pleasant; I was in a tropical environment with my classmates and my closer friends, big white sandstone buildings and a huge plaza with fountain the ground was red stones and very warm plus there was a lot of palm trees in a square around the fountain providing cover and also creating shadow for four benches around the fountain. I remember how there was “sound” in my dream but if I focused on exactly what was said or what the sound was it faded until there was no “sound” at all.
After I’d taken in the scenery in this dream(and what was weird is that I was aware of me dreaming I could feel when I was sleeping deeply and also when my sleep was shallow) I was greeted by one of my childhood friends. I remember his reassuring face and our idle chat as we strolled over to one of the benches around the fountain.
Another one of my childhood friends was sitting there, and there was also a table in front of the bench. He asked me if I would care for a drink, I said “Yeah, thanks” and I took a cup and watched him pour wine into it. I lifted the cup for a toast and when I was about to drink the wine rapidly evaporated into thin air.
I remember getting angry and tossing the cup down on the ground, at this point I don’t remember my friends having any faces and they were just standing there frozen whilst my eyes were drawn to the sky. I then watched how a crow came as if out of nothing, the crow then turned into two crows and the two crows turned into four crows, so on so forth until there was a massive murder of crows seemingly hovering in place in the air.
What I did next might seem unreasonable, but what I did was close my eyes slowly and then open them again. As soon as my eyes were fully opened the first crow flew at me unbelievably fast with the others soon following. I remember narrowly dodging the first crow but the rest hit me, and then as if my mind was a cheap slide projector another dream followed.
I was in a huge room, bigger than any I have seen in my real life, much bigger than the meeting room in the German “Der Reichstag”, much taller than anything I have ever seen. When I looked up at the roof it seemingly just ended in nothingness after towering several hundred meters above me. It was a rectangular room with the two longest sides being the one I was on and the other opposite of me. There was no floor; it also stretched for a few hundred meters ending in a black, seemingly bottomless light-sucking abyss. It was as if the darkness reached out from the abyss and clawed its way up the sides of the wall. I was standing on a platform on one of the widest sides of the room. The platform had a railing and the railing stopped just in front of me, with enough space for a human to pass through casually. If you walked through you would fall down though because the footing of the platform ended just there. There was the same kind of platform and a door opposite of me, on the walls in the same height as the platforms were a lot of bookshelves made out of polished dark wood they were spanning the entire circumference of the room.
The only way for me to get to the other side would be by climbing on the bookshelves. Mind you I was only wearing my underwear (the same I was wearing when I went to sleep actually). I decided that I wouldn’t get anywhere by just standing around on this platform and so I climbed over the railing and started crawling across the polished, smooth surface of the bookshelves. There were no books in the bookshelves but there was a lot of grey, sealed letters. I don’t know why I didn’t open any of them. When I reached the bookshelves of the opposite wall I noticed a small wooden bowl, in the bowl was a small clay doll with button eyes and a small dress made out of patchwork felt in blue and purple colors. I looked at the door by the platform and I noticed a very small keyhole. In my mind at that point in time it seemed obvious where the key was. So I tore this clay doll apart and found 3 very small rusted keys. 2 of them were broken but one of them was not, and I was certain that the one left untouched would be the one that fit in the lock. As soon as I gripped after the key I felt my footing slip and I fell on my back down into the abyss. Yet again, my mind as if it were a cheap slide projector simply put another dream on.
This is the second-most terrifying experience of that night. My dream was that I woke up; I was lying on my side in the bed with my eyes close. No matter how hard I tried I could not open my eyes, my eyelids were simply too heavy. I even tried opening my eyes with my fingertips but I could not slide the lids up. I reached for the switch to my bed-side bright halogenous lamp and flipped it. Instantly I could sense that something was wrong, even though my eyelids were closed I could still perceive my room, but it wasn’t brightly lit as if by my lamp but rather there was a very soft light coming from behind me veiling the room in a sort of greyish twilight-y “light”. The most unsettling thing though, is the shadows dancing on the wall opposite of my bed in the direction I was facing. The walls were completely black against the greyish-white wall jumping up and down. It’s kind of silly now, but they would be the complete mirror image of a “classic” devil horns and a pitchfork 3 of them jumping up and down on the wall. I felt cold sweat all over my body and I started shaking. I sort of panicked, and I fumbling reached for the switch of my lamp. When I hit it though the shadows kept dancing, and with the loudest BANG I’ve heard for a while my door burst open and I saw a tall pitch-black man in a trench coat with a matching huge hat that shrouded his black face in the already apparent darkness of the hallway outside of my room. Even though I am Danish and that also being my main language I heard the man yell at me “The crows are hungry!”
With this I woke up, my body covered in sweat and me breathing heavily. I was almost afraid when I reached for the switch on my lamp and flipped it on. This time it worked and I was back in my world of light. I was up for a couple of minutes and drank some water, then I decided to go back to sleep. At this point the time was 3:26 AM I know this because I checked my phone soon after I woke up.
No more nightmares followed and I first woke up at 11 AM later that day to the front door opening, it was my parents coming home with a couple of bags. I ask them where they had been and they told me “When you fell asleep yesterday we didn’t dare wake you even though we had plans to visit your brother.” Turns out they had slept over at his place because it snowed so much that night.
To this day I wonder who it was underneath my parents’ duvets, and I wonder if the crows are still hungry.
The Crows Bring Me Gifts
Let me start off this by saying: I love crows, but it hasn’t always been that way. When my wife and I first moved to a rural area I was amazed how much the birds ruined the beautiful relaxing atmosphere of the countryside with their squawking. They would splash all the water from our little finch bath, scare away other birds, dig through the garbage if we left the lid off, and were always kicking things out of our compost bin. They were pests.
After watching a video online a few years ago of a lady petting and hand feeding a couple crows I fell down a rabbit hole of Corvid videos. Did you know some can even mimic? Not to the extent parrots can or anything, but it’s freaky how smart they are. So after doing a little research I went out and got a bag of whole peanuts, like they sell for squirrels. I work from home, so I set an alarm every day to go out and throw a few peanuts where I would see them hang out. It took a little longer than I expected for them to get it, but once they realized the pattern, they’d be here and waiting just before my alarm went off. Instead of being annoyed at how loud and destructive they were, I began to watch and enjoy them.
I began to recognize some of our “frequent fliers” and it seemed every year there would be more birds than the last. It was an adventure and I loved getting to know them and building my relationship with the birds. After about two years we would find “gifts” from a pair of the birds at the feeders at relatively regular intervals. Most of them before were small and shiny things, bottlecaps, rocks, pieces of metal and foil. We haven’t had very many gifts, but every time we got one I would get a rush of excitement. It felt like we had our own little barter system, me and the crows.
The last few weeks we had received something different. It was a small piece of flat oval plastic with a chipped green color on one side. I happily put it with the other trinkets on the shelf next to my computer. The next one was a belly button ring with a bright blue gemstone in it, my first piece of jewelry that wasn’t an earring. I carefully placed it next to the piece of plastic. The next gift from the birds was a few pieces of bone. They were small, long, and from what I assumed to be a tail of something they must have scavenged.
When I showed it to my wife, she said it didn’t look like tail bones, “tails look like vertebrae I think,” she said. We began to google bones of different critters we have around here, raccoons, opossums, deer. They were dainty, but not like bird bones. I kept it on the shelf next to the rest of the gifts. Curiosity faded as life went on, until I received a second green piece of plastic and showed that to my wife too. Her face went a little pale as she looked at my most recent offerings.
“Those are nails,” she said pointing to the plastic. “Acrylic ones you get from the salon.” She wiped the dirt off one and was horrified to see a natural fingernail stuck to one side. Picking up the second, newest nail, we saw about half a nail on the flip side.
“So they stole somebody’s fake nails? They just swooped down and took somebody’s nails?” I asked quietly, but looking at the belly ring and the small bones I already knew the answer.
We called the police and filed a report. At first it felt crazy explaining, no, we didn’t just happen upon these creepy things, yes, birds have been bringing them to us. I showed them the other small things in my collection and some photos on my phone of the birds nearby while I was feeding them. They took our macabre trinkets and thanked us, saying they’d be in touch if they needed any more information, or if we should get any more gifts from the birds.
Like I said, we live in a rural area and don’t have a lot of neighbors. We have trees and farms and wild animals. Did our “murder” find one of their own? I’m not sure how far the birds fly each day, but it keeps me up at night to think they may also be feeding from where they found these things.
