Spooky Boo’s Scary Story Time
Creepypasta and True Scary Stories
Episode 208 Patreon Episode 208 Freaky Video Games, Crazy Shift in the Matrix, Demonic Parents
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Listen on the Podcast
Read and listen on Website
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TITLE: Covetous
AUTHOR: unknown
LINK: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Covetous
TITLE: Letters
AUTHOR: unknown
LINK: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/%22Letters%22
TITLE: They
AUTHOR: unknown
LINK: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/%22They%22
MEDIA
TITLE: Stormy Night by the Fireplace in Sandcastle, California
ARTIST: Spooky Boo Rhodes
VIDEO LINK: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D7IcLnG6XEw
Thank you to all of my Patrons including 933TheVolt, BubbleSlayer, Ivy Iverson, John Newby, madjoe, Oliver, and P.A. Nightmares
Thank you to all of my listeners!
CREEPYPASTA AND TRUE SCARY STORY PODCAST
Where Spooky Boo tells the scary stories of the internet.
WEBSITE: https://www.creepypastascarystories.com
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SPOOKY BOO’S SCARY STORY TIME PODCAST
Horror stories are written and told by Spooky Boo Rhodes
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About Spooky Boo
Spooky Boo Rhodes is both an author and a podcaster. She has three podcasts available: Spooky Boo’s Scary Story Time where she writes her own stories and tells them on the podcast, Creepypasta and Scary Stories where she tells the creepy stories of the internet written by other authors, and Creepy True Scary Stories where people send in their own true scary stories for Spooky Boo to read.
Visit Spooky Boo’s favorite punk band at https://www.officialstayout.com
This podcast includes stories of a dark nature and may not be suitable for all listeners. If you’re comfortable listening to stories that are paranormal or twisted dark horror then this podcast is for you.
I love telling horror stories. Subscribe to both of my channels to listen to true and fictional scary stories of nightmares, ghosts, demons, witches and witchcraft, haunted houses, Halloween, x-files, cryptids, monsters, vampires, ghosts, and other creatures that go bump in the night!
I’ll see you in your nightmares!
Hello, it’s Spooky Boo hailing to you from the coast of Sandcastle, California from the radio waves of KSND, Sandcastle’s finest radio station. The sound of the sea. Tonight the fog is thick and the wolves are loud, but here in the lighthouse, all you can hear are these spooky stories and the storm flashing outside. It is stormy in Sandcastle quite often, strange the rest of the coast rarely has any rain. Tonight I have for you 3 spooky stories from the depths of the internet. These freaky creepypasta stories will keep you up at night. If you like something a little more daring, you can always get the commercial-free and uncensored version on my Patreon page at www.spookyboo.club.
Now let’s begin…
Covetous is a free online game about a parasitic twin living off of the cells in his brother’s body.
In each level, you play as a tiny cell eating the other cells so that you can grow and escape your brother’s body to be a real person, while unsettling music plays in the background. The screen shows a picture of a black figure and you can see through him, it shows his brain and his heart. It also shows all the cells in his body and the cell that you play as. After the first level, text appears on the screen.
“I was the forgotten cell. Left to die in the flesh of my brother.”
Not much has changed in the second level of the game except that a patch of green has appeared on the heart of the black figure and the heart is beating faster. The cells in his body have also changed from white to green. After the second level, more text appears on the screen.
“I felt myself become thick and lump. Growing into the form that was robbed from me.”
In the next level, millions of green cells have crowded up to fight off the cell that is eating them (which you play as) and the goal of this is the same as the other levels, you devour the cells. This is what the text after you beat the level says:
“I’m so hungry.”
On the next level, the black figure whose cells you devour, appears to be in pain. On most levels he is smiling, but on this level his mouth is straight like he is unhappy. On this level, the cell you play as, devours what appear to be red blood cells. After you beat this level, text appears again.
“To thrive is to eat. I must continue consuming my host, my ignorant kin.”
On the next level, the cell you play as seems to have grown into a very large cell and is eating more red blood cells. After this level more text appears on the screen.
“What kind of God gives entity just to let me die again tucked behind a kidney and fat.”
On the next level, the black figure seems to be in terrible agony and his face is frowning. You devour more red blood cells and the cell you play as doesn’t look like a cell anymore, it looks almost like a human baby. Text appears again.
“I love you my sweet brother, my forgiving host.”
On the next level, there are many globs of cells trying to fight off the parasitic cell but they are being devoured. The next text that appears makes the game more disturbing and unsettling than it already is.
“Fuck and eat you cunt shitpig.”
On the next level you devour the last of the cells in your host’s body and you grow rapidly looking more and more like a regular human baby. The text that appears at the end of that level says:
“I never desired wealth or status. Just existence.”
On the next and final level you press the arrow keys and the parasitic twin emerges from the black figure’s stomach, killing him! The parasitic twin then says, “O, existence, let me be known.”
Then the screen turns to a blank red of nothingness and the game is over…
However, there is another ending. If, on the final level, you do not press the arrow keys rapidly enough—or choose not to press them at all, the background turns gray as the parasitic twin withers away, and the next message is:
“In the end, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put myself to steal from another what was once stolen from me.”
From here the screen goes black, and the game is, once again, over.
“Letters”
Everyone in Burningham is haunted by something; I would know after living here for thirty something years. For years now, I’ve wondered if I should leave this place for good and start a new life somewhere else or if I should just try to put my life back together here. It seemed so much easier to start a new life where no one else knows you, but I never wanted to leave my parents behind. As they grew older and older, I found myself more and more reluctant to leave, but now that doesn’t matter. They’re dead.
They didn’t die from health complications; in fact, they were in great shape for people in their sixties. They were driving cross-country when they got into a terrible accident. The worst part was going down to the morgue and seeing their cold, lifeless bodies. I fell apart then and there, that night I didn’t eat or sleep. Two weeks later, I held a small funeral. I was the only one there. As the only living relative left, it was my responsibility to clean up my parents’ house and prepare it for the market. I knew this wouldn’t be an easy task.
As I pulled into the driveway, the house stood before me, a poor copy of what it used to be. What once was a lush, well-kept lawn was now overgrown with dry, yellowed grass. The house and garage across from it were thankfully made of brick; who knows what shape they would be in if they weren’t. Brush was piled into the old, rusty dog cage across from the garage.
As I walked up the path, childhood memories flashed through my mind: Dad tossing the ball to me when I was ten, Mom helping me walk the dog around the house when I was twelve. The memories quickly faded away, and reality sunk in. I’d never be able to make new memories with them. My knees buckled from beneath me, and I fell to the ground. I let out a loud sob.
My parents were gone forever. Nothing I did would ever change that. Wiping the tears from my face, I tried to follow the breathing exercises my new therapist taught me. I took a few deep breaths and counted to ten, and once I calmed down, I stood back up. I unlocked the front door, took another deep breath, and entered the house.
The inside of the house didn’t look abandoned. For a moment, it felt like Mom and Dad were still in their bedroom, as if nothing had changed. It was almost like being inside of one of the Chernobyl houses. Everything in the house looked the same as it did when it was abandoned. Canned and boxed food still sat in the cabinets. There was a smell of rot coming from the refrigerator, accompanying the house’s strong scent of mold and mildew.
I held my breath, and stepping around the mouse droppings, I trudged forward to the bedrooms to look for my parents’ financial information. After a few minutes of rummaging through their drawers, I found the paperwork I needed, but I also found a box. Inside of it were letters written by people I didn’t recognize. Curious, I began to read through them.
Nov. 14th, 1989
Dear Uncle Tony,
Happy Birthday! Love is not something you can see. Love is something you feel deep in your heart. I love you!
Love,
Lorraine.
Lorraine? The letter is addressing my father, but he and my mother didn’t have any siblings. Even if he had a falling out and decided he didn’t want anything to do with his family, why would he lie to me?
Nov. 21th, 1989
Dear Uncle Tony,
I really like staying over and spending time with you and Aunt Pam. I love staying up past my bedtime to watch cartoons and eat chocolate chip cookies. At bedtime, I heard someone whispering my name from under my bed. I was scared. But I peeked over the side of my bed, and my Daddy’s head popped out from underneath. I haven’t seen him since he and Mommy got divorced. I was so happy to see him. Then he asked me to go under the bed with him. His voice was deeper. There was something wrong with his eyes. They were all black. I told him no and rolled back over. I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
- Lorraine
Really strange. This probably was just a dream she had; when I was younger I had a similar dream about my parents being under my bed. It probably felt so real to her that she believed it actually happened.
Nov. 28th, 1989
Dear Uncle Tony,
I had lots of fun building snow forts with you and Aunt Pam last weekend. I had more fun when I caught both of you by surprise and nailed you with snowballs. It was fun until bedtime, when the thing that looked like my Daddy called my name again. I told him I wasn’t going to go under the bed with him, and I knew he wasn’t my Daddy. The thing got really mad at me. It grabbed my foot that was hanging off the edge of the bed and scratched it. I wanted to run away, but I was afraid that whatever was under my bed would come out from underneath it and get me.
- Lorraine
Dec. 4th, 1989
To Tony:
I’m always happy to let Lorraine spend the weekend over your house. You’re family after all, and I want her to know her Uncle and Aunt. You and Pam have really been there for Lorraine and I ever since Rick abandoned us a few years ago, but Lorraine came home on Sunday with a scratch on her foot. Please keep a better eye on her while she’s playing.
- Susan
Man, it must have been hard for her to take care of a child by herself. It’s a good thing Mom and Dad were there to help her. I had a friend who was raised by a single mother, life was hard for them.
Dec. 8th, 1989
Dear Uncle Tony,
I’m really looking forward to spending Christmas with you! Thank you for buying me a barbie. I love her so much. I was having fun until the monster under my bed started talking to me again. He promised not to hurt me again. He told me if I went under the bed with him I could have all the cookies I wanted. He even held one out for me to take from him. I know it was dumb, but I was hungry and I reached for it, but when I did he grabbed my wrist. I was able to pull back, but he scratched me again and it really hurt this time.
- Lorraine
Dec. 18th, 1989
Dear Pam,
For whatever reason Tony hasn’t bothered to listen to me. I’m looking forward to having Christmas with you, but Lorraine got a big scratch on her wrist. How is she getting hurt so much?
- Susan
Jan. 1st, 1990
Dear Pam,
I really appreciate you and Tony having us over for the holidays, but there’s something really odd that happened when I was there. Lorraine woke me up in the middle of the night. She was crying and telling me that someone was someone under her bed. I walked into the room she was staying in, and there was nothing there. She had fresh scratches on her. What is going on? Clearly, I have not been listened to. I do not think I can allow her over your house if you continue to ignore my requests. I’ll allow both of you one more chance. I do not want to have to do this, but if you force my hand, I will do what I feel is best.
- Susan
Jan. 4th, 1990
Dear Uncle Tony,
I really enjoy seeing you and Aunt Pam, but I don’t know if I wanna come over anymore. I appreciate you letting me sleep in your bed last time, but I’m not safe even with you and Aunt Pam. I could hear the monster calling my name from my bedroom.
- Lorraine
Jan 7th, 1990
Dear Tony and Pam,
I can not allow Lorraine at your house. When she got home from the last visit, she said she never wanted to go back and wouldn’t stop crying. I don’t know what happened, but she is not going to your home anymore. I’m furious that my rules were not obeyed! How dare you undermine me! I think you know how Lorraine got hurt, too, but I’m starting to think it wasn’t just an accident due to your negligence.
- Susan
February 1st, 1990
Dear Tony and Pam,
How dare you try and play the victim. You want me to reconsider? No way! If you guys didn’t hurt Lorraine, then how come you can’t at the very least admit the both of you are negligent caretakers? How dare you throw in my face all the things you did for Lorraine financially, emotionally, or otherwise. Don’t try to spin me a sob story “Lorraine is the daughter I’ll never have.” Cry me a river. Also, never throw my condition in my face again! I’ve been just fine mentally, and I’ve been taking my medicine. My illness has nothing to do with the decision I’m making. I laughed when I read the part of your letter when you mentioned you were afraid for the child’s well-being because I’m unwell. Don’t ever threaten me! You’ll never see Lorraine or me again as long as you live.
I heard my parents calling my name down the hallway. I followed it to a bedroom. The door creaked loudly as I opened it.
“Max.” The voices called again.
As I entered the room, the door slammed shut behind me. It was probably the wind. Cold, stale air nipped at my face. The bedroom looked like it hadn’t been touched in over thirty years. I remember it my parents said it was a guest bedroom, but we never had any guests. The walls were painted pink and the bedspread was littered with bug carcasses and a few mouse carcasses as well. The whole room smelt so strongly of death and decay I could taste it.
“Hello?” I called out.
“Under here.”
The voice was coming from under the bed. Dread filled my entire being. There had to be a reasonable, logical explanation. I haven’t been sleeping or eating much, maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I crouched down to see under the bed. I had to do it; I needed to see who was calling my name. I peeked under the bed expecting to see the face of some unworldly monster, but instead, I saw the faces of my mother and father.
My father’s old, wrinkled face was stretched into an unnatural smile, and his eyes were black and void of all emotion and life. Long, white, wispy hair hung over his face. My mother’s appearance was nearly identical to Dad’s: her wrinkled face stretched into a smile, her eyes all black, and her hair hanging over her face.
“You’re both dead. I buried you. This isn’t real. You’re not real!” I screamed.
My heart pounded rapidly as I backed away from them.
“We’re real, and we’ve come to see you.” They said.
There was a hope for a minute. Maybe, my parents were still alive and the trip to the morgue along with the funeral were all part of a terrible dream that I’ve woken up from. Perhaps, there was a chance that I had my parents back. As I gazed into their strange smiling faces I realized that there was hardly any mirth in their smiles. These weren’t happy smiles, they were deceptive, designed to get me to let my guard down. The imposters looked hungry and ready to pounce. I knew these were not my parents
I dropped to my knees and clasped my hands around my head. Tears streamed down my face. This can’t be real. I did the only thing that I could think: I got up and ran to the door. The door knob wouldn’t turn. I kicked the door and threw myself against it, but it wouldn’t budge.
They crawled out from under the bed and seized my ankles, pulling them out from underneath me, sending my face crashing down to the cold, hard floor. They continued to pull me towards the endless abyss.
“If you don’t come to us, we’ll come to you.”
I tried to sink my nails into the floorboards. “No!”
Their grip was inhumanly tight. As they dragged me, my nails left trails in the wood. Their nails sank into my ankles, drawing blood. Hot, searing pain filled the bottom half of my body.
“Please let me go.” My plea was only meant with cruel laughter, they were enjoying this.
“Please let me go.” Mom mocked.
“Don’t waste your tears, son. There will be plenty of time for tears soon enough.” Dad said.
I made another attempt to pull my feet loose, and their grip loosened as my ankles grew more and more slick with blood. I pulled and jerked, getting more and more control with each try. I pulled my left foot and slipped from Mom’s grasped. She looked at her blood-stained hands in disbelief, and then I freed my right foot. Before they could grab me again, I kicked both of them in the face. My ankles burning, I struggled to get to my feet. I charged the door with my shoulder lowered. The door gave way on impact, falling off its hinges. Dull, agonizing pain traveled up and down my shoulder, but I ignored it. I rushed down the hallway and threw the front door open.
“Come back!” They screamed.
“Fuck you. You’re not my parents!” I screamed back.
Before I slammed the door shut, a horrible, growl filled the house. The house shook as if there was an earthquake. I slammed the door shut and sprinted to my car. I sped off, gunning it down the street with no care for the speed limit. I don’t know what that thing under the bed was, and sadly, I’ll never know what happened to my Cousin Lorraine or my Aunt Susan.
I haven’t been to my parents’ house since and I refuse to go back there alone. The thing that bothers me the most is that the next owner doesn’t know what they’re in for. I could have the house demolished, but my gut tells me house or no house that, that thing will still be there no matter what.
“They”
They is all that I can call them. They have no name. They have no origin. They are just there. Who exactly are They? Surely They were someone before.
It was a warm mid July day when I first had an encounter with them. I had just made plans with my friends to hang out for an afternoon. This is slightly unusual as we seldom do anything together. We had made plans to eat at some sort of restaurant that I had never heard of that is way out in the middle of nowhere. These friends that I have are just one guy, Mark, and two ladies, Vanessa and Lily. Mark tried to convince me that I had been to this restaurant before, and I just didn’t remember. So we made our plans, and we all got into Mark’s car. Mark drove because it was his car, Vanessa sat next to him in the passenger side. I sat in the back behind Vanessa with Lily. Everything seemed normal.
It was July and we were in a middle of a drought. All we could see on the way to the restaurant was dried up farmland and rotting barns. No one was out because of the heat. The whole trip up was very pleasant. The radio was blasting Great White and Led Zeppelin, we were all laughing and telling jokes and stories about our lives. After driving for about an hour we had reached our destination. There was the restaurant, very small, but also well maintained, unlike the neighboring houses. After recuperating from the long drive and the sinus pressure brought on by being in the valley, we went in. We had a great time, service was great, but the food was absolutely horrible, it tasted as if it was microwaved. With our stomachs full we decided to drive around and look at the scenery as we digested our food.
This is where I noticed a change. We drove around for what seemed to be an hour, looking at abandoned farmlands and listening to all the Foreigner and John Mellencamp that the radio station threw at us to hear, naturally I started to get a little bored. I asked, “How much longer are we going to be driving around?”
No answer. So I repeated, “How much longer are we going to be driving around?”
“This farmland is beautiful, I wish I lived on a farm!” Vanessa exclaimed.
“You know, I always wanted to live on a farm,” Mark happily replied.
“How much longer are we going to be driving around?” I repeated a third time.
“Look at the silos, Lily, you used to be obsessed with silos when you were a kid right?” Vanessa asked, completely ignoring my question.
I repeated my question a fourth time, then a fifth time, “How much longer are we going to be driving around?” Then I realized something. They couldn’t hear me.
They couldn’t hear me. These were not the same people anymore.
Every comment I made, every question I asked was ignored. Vanessa kept blurting out how much she loved the scenery, Mark kept adding on to her comments, and Lily just went along with it. I was just invisible to them. They would ask me a question, but never hear my answer to it. Not only that, but some change occurred over them. Vanessa just stared at all the scenery with a stupid smile on her face. Mark had some sort of blank grin going on, and Lily just quietly smirked while looking out the window. These were not the friends that I had grown up with. These people just became them, not my friends.
Mark kept driving around and around stuck in his trance along with everyone else. They had all become one. They had become They. Mark drove around for another hour as it felt. The sun was still shining bright, not a cloud in the sky, all the farmland plots looked exactly the same as the farmland plots next to it, until we came across an abandoned church-like building.
This building looked a lot like a church, but it was about the size of an old one-room schoolhouse. Mark screeched to a stop. He wanted to check it out. “Hey guys, let’s check this out!” he practically shouted.
“No, what if someone is there and they yell at us?” Vanessa said with a sudden tone of concern.
“No,” I replied, “it is obviously abandoned and there is not a single house in sight.”
Of course They did not hear me and Vanessa complained as Mark stupidly drove around the building over and over until he came to a decision. Lily still staring blankly outside with that smirk on her face pretty much repeated what I had said earlier about no one being there.
“See Vanessa,” Mark replied. “Lily knows everything, why didn’t anyone bring that up before I circled this building five times?”
We pulled over onto the side of the road. Still nobody at all. The entire time we drove no one was around, and it was just about rush hour. I got out first and then They got out. I went up to the building along with Mark while Vanessa and Lily stood back. Mark noticed the door was open and went inside and I followed right after him. I try telling him about all my knowledge on the subject of school houses, but of course he couldn’t hear me. I was examining the interior of the school house when Mark started calling my name.
“Come out of there!” Mark yelled with an unusual gleeful tone.
“No,” I replied. I wanted to look more.
“Come out of there,” Mark kept repeating himself until I gave up and went out there. “Take a picture of it.” He handed me his phone despite my complaints of not wanting to do it. I took the picture and we got back into the car, and the same thing happened just like the entire trip there.
“We should really head back now, we have been driving for four hours,” I stated. He must of somehow caught some of what I said because he turned to look at me. I nearly jumped out of my seat. His face was melting. The skin just dripped off his face until it just looked like a skeleton with eye balls. He payed no attention to me and turned to Vanessa and started speaking some gibberish which was a childhood story of his that I never experienced. Vanessa laughed at him and she turned her head to face him and the same thing happened to her. Her skin just melted right off her skull. I turned to look at Lily; I could not see her face but there was a puddle of a skin colored liquid in her lap that was not there before.
I’m never going to get out of here. That thought just kept repeating in my head. Mark just kept driving, and driving, and driving, and driving. Talking and laughing, talking and laughing, talking and laughing. Melting and melting, melting and melting and melting and melting. I started to panic. Just the thought of driving nonstop for hours and hours. The perfect day just kept going and going. The sun shone as bright as ever, it had not even set the slightest. Eventually the conversation just came to a stop and it was complete silence while They were all in their trance. I was in panic mode for at least a couple hours until I found that I was smiling too. I began to feel like I was sweating more despite the temperature being exactly the same. However I did not care. I also discovered something else…
I felt fine.
