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Good evening, it’s Spooky Boo. Tonight from the sands of Sandcastle I bring to you three very creepy cryptid stories. These stories will keep you up into the night, staring out of your window and wondering if that howl you hear is really a wolf or a man! Sometimes I wonder what goes on in the depths of the forests of Sandcastle for every now and then, I hear a yelp or a howl that doesn’t quite seem animal and isn’t quite human, either. Do I dare go out into the wilderness? Tell me on social media anywhere at spookybooscarystorytime.
Be sure to check out my website at Spooky Boo’s Scary Story Time to learn more about the show and the authors of the Creepypasta stories at www.scarystorytime.com/creepypasta.
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Before I begin, I’d like that thank my listeners and Patreon members for their support including 933TheVolt, BubbleSlayer, Ivy Iverson, Oliver, and P.A. Nightmares. This show would not be possible without the support of Patrons and listeners. If you would like to listen to the show commercial-free, visit www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime where you will get the commercial-free podcast and other goodies. You’ll find other ways to support the show at www.scarystorytime.com/
Come with me and watch Creature Features on Saturday nights in their YouTube chat room. We love talking about the old horror movies while horror host Vincent Van Dahl interviews fun guests and Mr. Livingston puts up with Tangella’s shenanigans. Find out your watch time at www.creaturefeatures.tv.
Story Number One
I Don’t See Him Anymore
I used to see him often. Well, I guess I shouldn’t say him, more like…it. Then I moved away, to another state, another city. I don’t see it anymore. Not physically, though it creeps through my mind in its swooping, slinking way. High up in the air one moment, then sliding across the ground the next, over and over and over, its limbs propelling it forward. The mere thought sends ice-cold shivers running down my spine. It used to watch me, but it can’t anymore. At least, I don’t think it can. I wouldn’t be surprised, however, to wake in the early hours of the day when the sky is still dark, and look to my window to see those eyes, those teeth, see it smile that awful smile. I hope I’m dead before that day arises. I hope I’ve seen the last of that monster.
When I was little, I lived in a small suburban neighborhood. It isn’t the kind you’re probably thinking of—big, white, uniform houses all lined up in perfect rows with green lawns and two garage doors. No, my neighborhood was much older. It was built sometime in the fifties and every house looked different, but most had started to fall apart. The people living there were hardworking and honest for the most part, and their long, hard lives showed on their faces. No one really talked to anyone else. That was one of the only things I didn’t like about that neighborhood. My mother always said the neighbors just liked to keep to themselves, that they had nothing very important to say, anyway. Looking back on it now, I think they did have something important to say. Something very, very important.
I saw it for the first time when I was eight years old, during the summer. It was very hot that season, unusually so compared to all the summers I’ve had since then, so I’d stayed inside most the morning. Then, after lunch, my father hooked up the sprinkler we used for our garden in our backyard. I excitedly got into play clothes and rushed outside, into the blinding sun. Those were the days, those innocent days in the sun where I played without a care. I had no idea I would soon be missing them.
So, I was outside, running and laughing and jumping through the cool spray of water…when I saw it. At first I didn’t notice it—it was just a rustle in the bushes. Then it was the crack of a branch and I looked up. Something…something dark moved through those leaves. Something as black as midnight, yet it shimmered when the sun hit it. It ran–or galloped, to this day I’m still not sure what to call it—from a small forest behind my house, leapt over my neighbor’s fence, and disappeared from my view. I was curious, so I chased it.
The pavement burned my feet, but I didn’t care. I watched, along with a few other neighborhood children, as the creature swept in and out of the shadows of trees, making its way down the street. It was large, probably about eight feet tall if it stood upright, though it never did. Instead, it stayed hunched over, its hind legs curled up at its sides, the knees protruding grotesquely past its torso. Large, white, curled claws grew from bony feet and long, slender fingers. Its arms were gnarled, the joints bulging under twisted muscle and skin. Skin that was black and rubbery stretched thin over whatever bones the beast had. It caved in at odd places and almost looked as if…it were rotting. Still, when it crept through the sun, patches glistened gray and blue, as if it were made of some kind of foreign glass.
Then there was its face. The skin was the same, stretched over an oblong oval skull that jutted out in the back. Its eyes were sunken deep within its head, large and round and hollow. They glowed a weird white-yellow; one I’m sure doesn’t have a name to this day. Really, it wasn’t even glowing. It was more of a pulsating, ever-present light that seemed to come straight from some nonexistent soul deep within the monster’s core. It always seemed to smile. Its mouth was stretched, like its skin, far across its face.
You know the expression, “grinning ear to ear”? It was literal in this case, each corner reaching each side of its face, where ears would have been if it had any. Within this smile were two rows of pure white teeth, long and sharp. In fact, each tooth was so long, it could never close its mouth. The sharp tips just clacked against each other as it skulked around, waving its head slowly from side to side, as if sniffing something in the air. I use to find this silly, since it had no nose. Now the thought terrifies me.
We kids just watched it in a sort of dazed amazement, never having seen something like it before. I suppose I thought it was just some species I had yet to learn about in school—I wish that’s all it had been. Then our parents called us back inside for dinner and we grudgingly obeyed, not wanting to get in trouble. I’m not sure about the other kids, but I never quite forgot about the creature I’d seen. I got preoccupied with other things, sure, but its image was always in the back of my mind. Burning there, waiting for me to remember it late at night while I tried to drift off to sleep. It got its wish.
That night I was lying in bed with my covers pulled up to my chin, despite how hot I was. The nightlight across the room barely gave me comfort from the thoughts of ghouls and ghosts hiding in my closet or under my bed. Then the beast’s image slipped into my thoughts. I gripped the covers. It hadn’t scared me before, yet I’d been mere feet away from it. But now, after having the image sit in my mind all day, my brain registering its unworldly appearance, I started to fear it. It was bad, I knew that now.
Then I heard a tap. I froze. Another tap. I didn’t dare move. Then there was another and another and another. It was at my window. I could hear its long claws scrape across the glass, hear its razor-sharp fangs as they clicked together…I could hear its breathing. Heavy, husky, in and out, in and out. Finally, I could no longer bear it. I tore my eyes from my night light and gazed through the dark room towards my window.
It smiled when it saw me. An impossibly huge grin that split its face in two, white teeth glistening with saliva, gleaming eyes seeming to pull every fear from my conscious and unconscious to the surface. I screamed. By the time my parents rushed into my room, it was gone, no traces of its existence left behind. They said it was just a nightmare.
It wasn’t just a nightmare.
I never saw it in the daytime again, but I saw it every night. After a week I stopped screaming, I just cried silently in my bed. Then, after another week, I stopped crying. It knew I was scared; I wasn’t going to give it the satisfaction of seeing me tremble. It wasn’t until it found the lock on my window that I was truly terrified. I’ll never forget the clunk the lock made when it had been moved for the first time in years, or the waning screech of the window as it slid open, or the heavy breathing at my bed side. I’ll never forget those eyes as they gazed at me from beyond my covers. It knew I was scared. It thrived on that.
It wouldn’t leave me alone. Everyone says I went crazy, but I didn’t! It just wouldn’t leave me alone! I hardly ever slept, my hair started to fall out and I always looked tired. My parents put me here, in this “psychiatric hospital”. It’s a nut house, that’s what it is! I’m not crazy! It’s been years– years. The nightmares still happen when I do sleep, so they keep me here. I suppose I like it better this way, though. After all, the monster can’t get me here. You know, the funny thing is… I can’t even remember where I use to live. I can’t remember the state or the city… I can’t even remember… the country.
Story Number Two
The Lonely Man
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.
Where the thing was last seen.
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.
Story Number Three
Nightman
I live in rural Massachusetts. I had a nice home. Small, but me, my mother and father, and my little sister fit comfortably in it. We had a good life, until it all changed.
It all started on that one, cool morning in the middle of fall. I was sitting at our old wooden table, pouring some Frosted Flakes into a bowl. My sister, who was nine, was sitting across from me, doing the same. We were getting ready to go to school. I was going to the high school, and my sister was going to elementary school. I finished my breakfast quickly; I was pretty hungry.
It was about 15 minutes before the bus would arrive, so I decided that I would watch some T.V. I sat down on the brown couch heavily due to the fact that my backpack was weighing me down. I grabbed the remote and clicked the red power button. The T.V. turned on with a bright flash. The news was on.
A woman with a black microphone in hand was reporting just outside of the woods that surrounds most of our small town. On the bottom of the screen, the blue letters read “Serial Killer Still at Large.” Serial killer? I thought. How could a series of murders be going on in our town and I haven’t heard about it? I continued to think.
Considering our town was small and news like this gets around the whole town within hours, I thought it was strange, but shrugged it off. Besides, I wasn’t one to watch the news anyway. My thoughts were interrupted by a rumbling of an engine. The bus was here. I ran for the door, saying “Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad.” in the process. I ran out the door and got on the bus just in time.
On the bus, most of the chatter was about the recent murder. Based off bits and pieces of conversations, no one knew more than I did, so I decided not to mention it. We were near the school and stopped at a red light. I saw red and blue lights. It was the crime scene. I pressed my head against the seat in front of me to get the best possible view of the scene.
To my horror, I saw the victim, or what remained of him. There was blood everywhere, staining the grass. The person’s arms and legs were missing. However, the bones of the limbs were lying next to the victim with many cracks in them. The head was missing also, and a large gash in the chest revealed the vital organs, which almost caused me to hurl up my Frosted Flakes. The scene eventually disappeared from sight as the light turned green and the bus continued towards the school.
It was a normal day, and no one talked about the murder. It was almost as if it never even happened. Well, that was until the lunch period. Everyone was talking about it. I sat down with my lunch next to my friend, Jack. I took a bite of my turkey sandwich and looked up at Jack.
“Hey Jack, you hear about that murder? Pretty scary shit if you ask me.” Jack looked up at me, clearly excited.
“Actually, I’ve noticed a pattern in the murders. All of them take place in or outside of the woods. The victims have been murdered in very similar ways according to the news.”
I lean forward and reply, “Yeah, they did say it was a serial murder, smart one.” Jack put his hand up and said “No no no, there is more to it than that. I’ve been researching the history of this area, and it turns out that these murders happen every 50 years. There is something going on here.” That statement sent Jack and me into thought, and we were silent the rest of the lunch.
As the bus rolled away from my stop, I walked into my house with Jack. My parents weren’t home, and my sister was still in school. After a bit of talking and devising, we decided to go check out the area around the crime scene. We walked out of our back door, towards the woods. I was a bit nervous. Jack, on the other hand, was smiling and excited with pen and notepad in hand.
When we reached the crime scene, nothing was there but some blood on the ground. The police had obviously cleaned the mess up, but they hadn’t done a very good job. With that, we walked into the woods behind the crime scene. Immediately, we found a set of deep footprints set far apart from each other, indicating the victim was running from someone or something. Jack whipped out his pen and paper and jotted down some notes as we proceeded though the woods.
Jack seemed concerned about something. I turned to him and ask, “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t even respond or even look at me. He just pointed up. I looked up and noticed that a clear path in the thick branches had been cleared above us, but it was ten feet from the ground. It looked as if something huge had been chasing the victim.
Jack finally spoke, “Strange, huh? Not only that, but do you see any other footprints behind the victim’s footprints? The apparent cause of death was by decapitation. This doesn’t add up.” After Jack said that, I was even more nervous. We looked up and saw the pink and purple sky and realized it was getting dark. We decided to head back.
When I got home I found a note.
At the movies, we’ll be home at 11:30. -mom and dad
Great, I thought. I’m gonna be sleeping alone. It’s not that I thought I was going to get murdered or anything, but it was kind of unnerving knowing a murder is on the loose. I turned the T.V. on, hoping to take my mind off it. When I turned it on, a man with large cuts all over his body and a missing arm was being shown on the T.V. The headline was “Survivor of Attack Describes Killer.”
Then a paragraph appeared on the screen which read: “He, he was tall, about 9 feet or so. His eyes, they were all black, sunken in too. His mouth was full of jagged teeth, covered in blood. He was skinny, so skinny. I could see his elbow bones and ribs.” The screen turned to the news reporter saying that he would be transported to a mental hospital the next day. On that note, I was just so scared I went to bed.
I woke up the next morning. It was Saturday. No nightmares, thank God. It was 10:30 and I remembered the man and how he was getting transported to the closest mental hospital. My parents and my sister were asleep, so I snuck out the back door and got in my dad’s car. I drove to the mental hospital.
When I arrived, I asked to see the most recent person admitted there. The women at the desk looked up and said “Oh, you mean the attack victim? Um, he committed suicide last night. He was screaming something about how the Nightman is gonna get him or something. I’m sorry.” That chilled me to the bone. I got into the car and drove home.
When I finally got home, I noticed there was a massive hole in the front of the house. I got out of the car, scared and confused. I looked down the hole and saw it went through the back, towards the woods. Oh no, I thought. I ran to the stairs, ready to run up them to see if my family was OK.
I was stopped dead in my tracks. Coming down the stairs was a large trail of blood that looked like it had come from a dead body being dragged. I followed the trail which led to the woods, then stopped right near the edge.
I looked up and saw my parents’ and sister’s heads nailed through the forehead onto a tree. I choked back vomit and broke down on the spot. I cried, and cried and cried until it was dark. Then I came to my senses. I was full of rage. I walked to the closet, grabbed my dad’s shotgun, and was ready to face this “Nightman” and shoot his fucking head off. That was a mistake. I loaded the gun and turned around, ready to face him. He wasn’t in the woods. He was standing right in front of me.
I was paralyzed with fear. He was tall, so skinny. Only someone terminally ill could be that skinny. His eyes were sunken in and pure black. His skin was leathery and grey. He opened his mouth, revealing razor sharp teeth, and spoke in a demonic, deep-toned voice.
“You and your friend were fools. You think you will uncover the truth, but the murders are never looked at as supernatural, which in this case they are. I have deposed of your friend and your family, and you are the only one remaining. As a final word, it has been me all along. That worried feeling you get, that sensation of being touched, those things you see in the corner of your eye, it has been me. It will always, be me, the Nightman.”
