r/TalesFromTheCreeps

Let me just start by stating I have written at least a half dozen stories since coming to Reddit last year (I actually had an account for longer than that; I just wasn'tusing it). From invisible gorillas to drunks with satanic dietary restrictions, I've truly been inspired by you guys to write some of the most off-the-wall bizarreness in my writing life.

I have a final two short stories that I've started that I'm going to put into a compilation and self-publish hopefully by the end of the year. I also want to do something very long-form on here that I thought of a while back and just figured out how to execute. More on that last one later.

But my final two stories (without synopsis) are:

I Can Drive Anyone Insane with This One Simple Shape

and

We Can't Take Off Our T-shirts

I'm hoping to have both done by next week and start posting them shortly after. But what about the rest of you--what are you getting ready to put up?

That's what they call them.

"The Sun Swellers".

Sounds pretty badass for some creature that's the result of earth roasting like a rotisserie chicken. I personally would have given them a more fearful name, just so we're constantly reminded of what's happening. Not that I could list you any, I'm not a very creative person.

None of these scientists can really do anything about it. We aren't capable of producing a ship strong enough to withhold being that close to the surface of the sun.

We aren't even sure what these fuckers look like, just that they are MASSIVE. I imagine giant leeches that suction onto the side of the sun we can't see, and move to the other side when it's about to show itself to Earth. They don't want to be seen, which creeps me out even more.

It's been about a week or two since we found out about these things, and we found them by "listening" to the sun. I won't bore you with the details, considering I don't know them much myself, but basically the sun sounded different compared to how it used too. And they did some math and concluded that there must be giant lumps of something hiding on the surface.

We don't know if they're feeding, giving to the sun, or even mating on the sun. But we know that they are responsible for the sun swelling. Thinking about this is stressing me out all over again. My thoughts are scattered, and I need a drink to calm my nerves. I walk over to my fridge, navigating through the mounds of garbage that line my trailer. The smell is sickening, and my nose is begging for mercy.

Once I wiggle my way through, I grab a beer from the fridge and sit at the kitchen table. This shit is fucking embarrassing. I thought, sipping on my beer. It's not my garbage lining the hallways, It's my mothers. She got into a pretty gnarly accident a couple years ago, paralyzed her, got into a coma, woke up, and ever since she came home she's turned into some sort of hoarder. I try to take out the trash, but she yells at me when I do.

I can't leave her, she won't last on her own. I love her so much, but it destroys me to see her like this. I stand up and walk outside onto our porch. The cold night winter air fills my lungs and it has never felt so good. The last winter, huh? I thought, sipping my beer. The scientists estimated that the sun would grow large enough to cook the earth in about 2 days.

And that estimate might be wrong. I got no job, but I do consider myself smart. By my math, we have less than a week. We might only have a day, possibly even hours. The rate of the sun's expansion is rising so fast, that it's impossible to actually know. I don't blame them for trying to instill some hope in us surviving somehow. But I've come to peace with the truth.

I worm my way back to my couch, I move a garbage bag out of the way, and sit down. I flicker on the TV, and switch it to the news channel. My blood runs cold. I watch as the news shows hundreds of thousands of tiny black pods descend upon the Earth. Some don't manage to reach, and get caught in an orbit, giving Earth a black ring. The obviously panicked news anchor explains that these pods came out from behind the sun, and shot directly towards us.

The atmosphere isn't burning them up, which twists my stomach even more than it already was. I shift uncomfortably in my seat as the screen switches to the news anchor himself, sweating profusely but swearing that everything is okay. I scoff when he says that, and right as I go to change the channel, the power cuts out.

Great, they hit the powerlines. I get up with a groan, and my back tweaks, causing a louder groan. I peek my head down the hallway.

"Are you alright mom?" I yell out.

Silence.

"Mom?" I yell again.

Nothing.

My eyes go wide and I start to scamper over, turning around halfway through to get a flashlight. tumbling over mounds and mounds of trash. Although it's a short distance, I'm out of breath by the time I reach her door. I practically kick the door down and run in worriedly, shining the light in her face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you boy?" My mom grumbled, setting down her book.

"Me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Even though I was a grown man, I flinched at the look she gave me.

I cleared my throat.

"Sorry, but why didn't you say anything when I called your name? You fuckin' scared me!"

"I didn't hear ya." She said, picking her book back up.

I scoffed and walked out of her room, going to check on the breaker next. A giant boom followed by a shockwave that shakes the trailer and sends me flying into the piles of garbage nearly makes me piss myself. I quickly throw the trash off and sprint right back to my moms room opening the door.

"Fuck off boy, they're just choppin' trees nearby. Let me enjoy some literature before I burn to a fuckin' crisp!" She didn't bother to look at me.

Chopping trees down when the world is gonna burn in a couple hours? Unlikely.

"God forbid I care about you..." I mumbled, shutting the door and walking away.

Fuck the breaker, I'm just gonna go outside. The stench is getting to me and I'm gonna vomit if I spend another minute in here. I grab my coat and boots, swing the door open and step outside, slamming it behind me. Just so the universe knows I'm upset. I reach into my coat pocket and take out a cigarette. I bring it to my mouth and as I try to convince my dying lighter to light up one more time, I see something in my peripheral dart. I glance over but see nothing.

Just a rabbit. I lit my cigarette and chucked my lighter into our dumpster. Could refill it, but I don't really care at this point. I lean against the banister and take a drag. I take out my phone to scroll on Instagram, but then I see it again. But this time it did it in front of me. I stared upwards and glared at the tree that I knew it was behind. Without taking my eyes off the tree, I walk backwards towards the door, open it, and reach for the shotgun just off to the side.

"Mom, stay inside okay?" I yell, knowing she probably isn't listening anyways.

I grasp the shotgun, and shut the door behind me. It still hasn't moved. I slowly walk forward, but stop about 10 feet away.

"Show yourself!" I yell, and steady my shotgun.

I hear the snow crunch behind the tree as whatever it is shifts around. But before I can say anything, it darts behind another tree, this one only about 5 feet away. The fear that now took over my body is almost indescribable. I didn't even see what it was, but just the thought of anything being that fast scared me.

I started to retreat slowly back towards my trailer. I noticed that the night sky was now turning to day. It was only 3 am, and the sun wasn't in the sky. I started trembling and right as I glanced upwards, I heard snow crunch, and then a warm sensation started to drip down. I felt like I was peeing my pants, but when I glanced down to my stomach, all I see is a giant claw mark, gushing blood. I fall to my knees. I fumble for my phone and manage to dial 911 before tumbling down into the snow.

I couldn't hear what the lady on the phone was saying, was it even English? The snow around me became soft and pillowy, it had never felt so comfortable. My thoughts, as well as my vision, became muddled. Yet, there was still a noticeable voice in the back of my mind. Slightly muffled by the sirens in my head lulling me to a final slumber, but it was still there, screaming at me to help my mother. It would come for her next. I knew that, yet... all I wanted to do was sleep.

But I couldn't.

We were all gonna fucking die anyways, but I'll be damned if I let my mother or myself die to this fucking creature from space. As I crawled vigorously to the steps, I noticed the snow around me was beginning to melt slowly, and I glanced up to the sky turning to a dark orange colour. I gritted my teeth and stood up, my body was failing, but I can't let it. I went up the stairs, one hardly fought step at a time. I tried to yell for my mother, but nothing came out other than blood. I slammed open the door, and stumbled towards her bedroom.

Navigating the trash piles now was harder than ever. My blood was pooling on the slippery plastic bags, causing me to faceplant into the mess. I can't bring myself to stand, so I drag myself across the garbage. Something sharp in one of the bags snags on my open wound, and cuts it open even more.

The pain is unbearable, but I must keep going. It's not until I reach my mothers door that I look back and realize that my intestines are dragging behind me. The sight freaks me out, but I got to hold on. Inside the trailer it's boiling, and the trash is cooking, the smell makes me vomit on the floor.

I hear a window smash, as I desperately reach up to the handle and open her door. I can only watch as my mom flails her arms, trying to punch the thing as it drags her out of the window, the broken glass that was left slices her throat open as she is dragged away. I barely even react on the outside, but on the inside I was sobbing.

I crawled all the way here for jack shit. In my last attempt to spare myself from cooking, I use all of my strength to heave the shotgun underneath my chin. I pull the trigger but hear a click. I forgot to put a shell in, and they're all the way back at the front door.

I manage to actually let out a sob, as I drop the shotgun while my eyes start to close. The heat is starting to cook my skin, and I can see it char. All I can do now is go to sleep, and pray that I see my mother again.

I know I said I came to peace with it, but I'm terrified.

I've recently noticed that the overwhelming majority of horror stories are written in first person. I'm a writer myself, tho I haven't done a horror story yet. I'm considering writing down one of my ideas that I find interesting, but I do not like writing in first person at all. So I'm wondering if third person writing is something that makes the story generally less enjoyable or more difficult to comprehend for most? That's what I'm getting from the amount of such stories I find

Kind of surreal to type this.

I discovered CreepCast a while back, and it completely changed the way I looked at horror. Seeing how much people connected with weird, internet-born horror gave me the confidence to stop chasing trends and just write the story I wanted to tell.

That script became NEUROSALINE—a psychological/cosmic horror feature about four teenagers who wake up stranded on an ocean that is actually a conscious nervous system.

After months of writing, rewriting, and pitching, it’s now heading into development.

Whether CreepCast ever sees this or not, thanks for inspiring me to actually sit down and write the thing. Here’s hoping I can pay that inspiration forward someday.

Hello everyone. Sorry about the delay!

The winner of the final three poll is u/theAbominableMantis for their story "Butterflies Beneath My Skin" and special thanks to the runner ups u/ShatteredTestimony and u/NarrowDirector911! AbominableMantis's story will be pinned until the start of the next contest!

And now for the July Contest!

Subgenre: Any Genre
Other details: Any pov, feel free to rewrite prompt however you want as long as the central concept remains intact.

Prompt: Something changed and I could feel my heart start to slow. Despite the icy wind cutting into my skin, a warmth passed over my burning blue hands like a soothing balm. The snow no longer felt like a thousand needles pricking my flesh but a cloud-like cushion. My thoughts, as well as my vision, became muddled. Yet, there was still a noticeable voice in the back of my mind. Slightly muffled by the sirens in my head lulling me to a final slumber, but it was still there--still screaming at me to get help. It would come for them next. I knew that, yet... all I wanted to do was sleep.

Task: Write the leadup this finale

Rules/Requirements: Written submissions only. Submissions MUST have “[insert month] Submission” after the title. Otherwise, they will be not be entered. Limit submission to one post (Reddit’s character limit is 40K) but you can write more parts for yourself. Follow the rules of the subreddit. Winner of the previous month is not eligible for winning this month.

Submissions will be closed July 24th. I’ll make an announcement post and you guys can tell me what are your favorite stories (NO SELF PROMO). I’ll take feedback into account, but ultimately, me and the other mods will be the final judges–meaning that we will consider your picks but if we like a story better that went under the radar, we’ll most likely go with that. Just an example of what I mean. On July 29th, we’ll announce the top three and that’s when you guys vote. August1st is when I’ll announce the winner and the next challenge!

I’m currently working on a couple of story ideas regarding vampirism, and I’m curious what everyone here enjoys most about vampires. What makes those stories memorable for you personally? Do you prefer traditional folklore/monstrous creature interpretations or the more modern psychological/gothic horror? Maybe something completely different altogether?

Are there any tropes you’re tired of seeing in regard to vampires? Are there any ideas or aspects of vampirism that you think deserve more attention?

I’d love to hear your thoughts!

August Hancock rested in his favorite chair, remote hanging loosely in his hand. It had gotten late enough in the evening that the local television stations had slipped into static, the black and white specs dancing across his screen. He didn’t mind, he always found the sound calming.

August had been living on his own for so long now, any amount of noise was welcome. Phone and internet companies hadn’t quite reached his neck of the woods which left him relying on his spotty at best cellphone service for contact with the outside world. Running a hand through his salt and pepper hair, he sighs deeply. He argued with his kids about even having the phone, thinking it wouldn't get good reception up here anyway. Now it was just a reminder that no one calls.

He'd complain about how isolated the house felt at times, but he preferred solitude. He could live without amenities if he had peace and quiet. After his wife died, day to day life started to feel too busy. The city, once full of life, now felt like it was moving too fast. When everything was sorted, no one wanted the house. No one could live there after Angelas stroke. Him and the kids were getting home from one of their camping trips, him having them unpack the car while he headed in to tell her they were back. She wasn't much of a camper, perfectly happy to stay behind when him and the kids wanted to "rough it." He knew something was wrong when he saw her laying down in the middle of the kitchen.

The doctors reassured him she didn't feel anything, not that it made going back to the house any easier. That was their last real camping trip that August could remember, any after felt more like going through the motions. The kids had been forced to grow up, the magic was gone. He made sure they all got shares, using his portion to buy a cabin on his favorite mountain. He was grateful the sale could cover giving them each a nest egg while still being able to afford somewhere minutes from his favorite memories. Close to the places he took the kids when they were younger, listening to the rivers he taught them to fish in. He missed when they loved this place as much as he did. 

August contemplated flipping channels, now eyeing his cellphone sitting on the coffee table. He could feel the weight, the itch to check if any of them had called or texted.  A futile ritual. As usual he has 0 notifications, choosing to blame the lone bar of reception the phone was showing. It was always easier to blame the cell towers then face the truth. He sent a few small messages telling them he was thinking of them, loved them, and hoped he'd see them soon. Not waiting to make sure the messages sent, he locked his phone and tried to distract himself with domestic duties. Collecting old dishes and a few pieces of trash, he walked into the kitchen to deposit it all in the sink. His stomach let out a weak growl. Taking a hungry man TV dinner out, he gently removed the packaging and set the timer. He cracked open a can of Rainier and drank deeply. He was determined to have a good night. August had never been the kind of guy to let himself get lost in his own head.

He walked over to his coat rack, feeling around his pockets for his cigarettes. The kids would never forgive him for starting up again. It had always been a point of contention for him and Angela, and they'd all been so proud of him when he finally quit. But he was an old man now, and people deserve a vice. He’d been a good husband, but a husband he was no more. August promised himself for the hundredth time he’d tell Angela he was sorry when he saw her in Heaven. Joking to himself that if anything it would just bring them back together faster. The kids always loved to tell him the cigarettes would kill him someday. The ding of the microwave bringing his thoughts back from glowing fluffy clouds and halos.

He shoveled chicken fried steak into his mouth at lightening speeds. It'd been a long time since he ate for pleasure and not necessity. He tossed the tray once it was empty and began the tedious process of putting his winter layers on. The snow might've just started, but the temperatures dropped weeks ago. The lowest they'd been in decades. He wasn't worried, the only difference it made for him would be a few extra wild animals coming around because they're desperate for food. He was always careful and was comfortable with local wildlife. The animals were one of the big reasons he was excited to live in the woods. Checking the front was locked up for bed time, he headed to the back porch for his night cap. The house itself didn't have much curb appeal, but he didn't care. He bought the place for the view from the large back deck that overlooked a sheer drop off. At the bottom, you could see the lush native foliage as it traced the narrowest part of the river and winded around the bend of the gulch. The snow ever so slowly burying anything green. Soon it would freeze, but for the time being he had the usual soundtrack of its gentle trickling. August leaned back in his lounge chair and snubbed his cigarette out. He tilted his head taking in the full map of stars; it didn't matter how long he lived here, he loved that view. He felt so much closer to nature out here where it wasn't polluted by street lights and urbanization.

While tracing a silly new constellation, August realized he could hear something out of harmony with the otherwise peaceful evening. He couldn't place it, even after cupping his hands around his ears to increase their sensitivity. A thrumming. Not loud, but constant. Cocking his head, he began to wonder if it was some type of engine or aircraft. He stood, leaning over the deck to take a look at his drive way from around the side of the house. He expected to see a vehicle approaching, but all he saw was his Ford truck and trees. A chill ran down his spine as he noticed the sound was getting closer, a feeling of claustrophobia beginning to rise as he realized the noise was surrounding him. The more he paid attention, the more he realized that there were no other sounds; no insects or critters. How? August couldn't remember the last time they had silence like that. Even in the winter, there was life. All he could hear was the water and the ominous thrum.

He felt silly being so afraid. He thought of camping trips past where he'd comfort his kids, scared by an unusual noise in the night. Wishing there was someone there to comfort him. He considered going inside to grab his phone, just pick one of their numbers and call...but then the loud creak of a tree caught him off guard. August did a 360 looking for the source of the sound, feeling silly for letting it startle him that much. He took a deep breath  telling himself he was being anxious for no reason. It was just him up here, wasn't it? August leaned against the railing, facing his open back door. He could see his empty driveway through the front window. His deadbolt locked in place. Why was he so on edge? Everything was safe. The weird humming had finally stopped, hopefully having passed by and on its way far away from him. He began to relax, leaning back further back against the handrail to stretch. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply to hold the smell of the frozen forest in his lungs.

A rapid, high-speed thrum-thrum-thrum again. August realizes why the sound is so familiar. Its like the flapping of birds, but louder than he'd ever heard before. He feels a sudden breeze and before he can open his eyes there's blinding, hot pain in his neck. He staggers, almost falling flat before getting his feet under him and making for his back door. Did someone throw something at him? Where is it? What hit him? His mind is running wild, one foot in front of the other as he rushes to get inside. A warm, wet sensation spreading down his back. Only a few feet to go, he feels giant hands wrapping around his shoulders, hooking his armpits. The nausea is immediate, the sense of vertigo as his feet leave the porch. He is screaming, eyes burning as the wind blinds him.

It's chaos, his sensory organs struggling to process all the different stimuli. His vision is hazy, all he can make out is what looks like two giant scaled hands on either side of his head. They swallow his shoulders, almost locking his arms in place. Below him he sees the snowy tops of trees rushing by. August tries to fight, but it's like a child trying to get out of an adult's grasp. The hands are solid and only squeeze harder as he tries to pull them away. The armored flesh scratching his finger tips as he claws desperately. The smell is overwhelming, earthy and tinged with old rot. It burns his nose and churns his stomach. He worries that if he's squeezed any harder, one of his shoulders might dislocate from the pressure. The pain causing him to panic, he doesn't realize the creature is approaching a dead tree at dangerous speeds. Above him a screech so loud he thinks it will blow out his ear drums. A bird? Is that even possible? He begins to wonder if it's just a dream when suddenly he is stationary, legs hanging listlessly in the air. The worst pain he's ever felt in his life. He looks down and realizes he's been impaled on a bare branch, the wood emerging like a malformed limb. Slick, and sticky with pieces of offal. The immensity of his suffering is enough to make him delirious, he doesn't realize the claws that carried him here have finally let go. He barely has time to process the agony before he feels a sharp, sudden crack to the back of his neck. Unlike the first one, this one lands solidly. He feels like a puppet with cut strings. The haziness in his eyes starts darkening, the sensation in his limbs beginning to fade. The tree creaking around him as his killer leans down to check if he's still moving, two black eyes staring at him. The cold indifference of nature in physical form. The last thing he feels is the curious beak of the giant Shrike exploring his limp limbs, his last thought a simple prayer for the lord to take him before the bird begins its meal.

"A shrike's larder (or pantry) is a grisly food cache where the predatory songbird impales its prey—such as insects, rodents, lizards, and other small birds—onto thorns, sharp twigs, or barbed wire."

Hello friends! Thank you for reading ❤️ As a teenager, I loved writing stories. I had a ton of misc stuff on an old hard drive the other day and felt inspired. On 12/12/2012 I was hit by two cars as a pedestrian and physical therapy/recovery kept me from writing. Its been a long journey getting everything it took from me. Creepcast and TalesFromTheCreeps has been a big inspiration, can't thank y'all enough for the stories.

I remember every detail from that night. The chill creeping in from my window that woke me up. The tickling on the back of my neck like a cold breath. It was almost pitch black in my room save for the rays of moon light joining the cold. I turned annoyedly in my covers and let out a groan didn't I just close this window? I saw something that changed my life when I looked across my room. something that I see everywhere that I go. Something that follows me between windows, like some tumour stuck to the back of my head. Something that I've lost relationships over because they just wouldn't believe me. between the window sill and the sheer curtains were a pair of eyes. Eyes that were perfectly ovular staring unblinkingly at me while I slept. They were wide and had streaky red veins in the whites and small, black, beady pupils. Staring at me with a silent hunger. I lay frozen on my side staring back at the glowing evil eyes. Ill never forget that feeling. Like a tangle in my stomach binding me still. A helpless, profound fear that ill never forget. I'm getting sick now thinking about it. I haven't had a full night of sleep in years. I barely passed my GCSES and after that I stopped going outside. I just know that its somewhere out there watching me from some window. I know its there. My friends all stopped talking to me after secondary because apparently I'm "Too paranoid". I'm not paranoid. I know its real and its out there. Just because you cant see it, that makes me crazy? Fuck you. I don't need any of you.

I'm writing this because I need someone I need to tell someone about this before I go fucking crazy. Almost every night I feel that cold breeze on my neck and turn to meet that devilish gaze. I've tried so many times to just get away from it. I've covered up my window, but whatever I put over my window is torn away and I'm woken up anyway. I put three padlocks on it a while ago and when I woke up in the night they were strewn across my floor in pieces. I've tried to change rooms but my parents always have an issue with me sleeping on the couch. Its like they're in on it or something. I cant wait to move out. But I tried something new yesterday night. I Just didn't look. I know that's an obvious solution but you don't understand the fear of that things staring. I feel the breeze like an awful command to turn and I do every time. But when I felt the cold air on the back of my neck last night I didn't look. I fixed my gaze to the wall beside me and didn't look. Then something different happened. something that had never happened before. I heard it speak. In a whisper through gritted teeth. Brimming with anger and pain I heard it say "Look at me" Then I heard my window fly open and slam hard against its frame.

Hey. Before I start, I guess I should say.

“Vote Chris Penton”

Nah that’s shit. I’ve got to workshop a new slogan.

Now that’s out of the way. Hello internet, and potential focus group. I’m here with a weird situation and a weirder request.

I need you to help me get elected.

I mean I’m still considering it. Just want to test the waters to see if I have what it takes. There is one small, tiny caveat, however.

In my town, only monsters get to be mayor.

Like actual creatures, I’ll explain as I go. So yeah, it’s not your typical political scenario. And I kind of have no experience. So that’s why I’m reaching out.

And no, I’m not secretly a monster in need. I am a human being.

And the monsters? Well, they are a fucking problem. So I could really use the help.

Don’t believe me?

One year, the mayor who was elected, was well, you guessed it, a monster. An Orgron to be exact. He gave his little acceptance speech, flapped his little appendices in front of his mouth and then ate the resident mayor secretary.

Right there. In front of the crowd.

See what I mean?

I don’t know when, but sometime in the past, the people in town struck some sort of deal with these creatures. It used to be chaos. Death, fear, war. It used to be a shitshow. But then we came to an agreement. There’s more of us than there are of them. But they’re stronger, more dangerous. So, we decided.

Every five years we get to elect one of them to be our leader.

This was the bizarre… compromise people came up with at the time. The monsters want to rule us, and we just want peace. So, we accept that they become our leaders as opposed to just going on reckless rampages.

Democratically of course.

And don’t bother trying to find us. That’s not a good idea. What we do here is for the sake of other people. Other towns.

You should be thanking us. Other places could face the same issue if it wasn’t for us. We keep them controlled, while they control us.

It isn’t an easy life. I’m trying to figure out who exactly would put a human in the running? You don’t get to run yourself. You’re chosen by a “committee of your peers”. Whatever that means.

So, screw it. Maybe I will run. I just need experience. I need to understand how people think, how they work. I need help. Maybe someone can share their ideas for our town if I explain our issues.

Maybe I should describe the revolting swinging doors of creatures that live with us first.

So, I mentioned Orgrons already. Orgrons are the main monsters in town. There’s like fifty of them. They’re big, they’re disgusting and they eat us. They’re the ones responsible for the greatest number of deaths between humans.

That’s it. Not much more to say. They suck, I wish they would all die.

Starting to see what we’re dealing with? That’s why it’s unheard of for a human to be elected.

There used to be a mass murderer in our town. A human one. He tried to run for office.

He was rejected. You know what they told him?

“We don’t take amateurs.”

Standards are high for politics around here. You’re either a monster or you don’t get to run. Which is why I’m confused to who appointed me.

But there’s more.

There are these, like, shadow things? The umbral they call it. They’re very bizarre. They’re basically shadows that aren’t attached to anything. They’re like little tricksters with a twisted sense of humor.

They kind of attach themselves to your shadow and move you around. One time they made a cat spaz-out mid-air. Poor cat. It was fine afterwards, just super scared. Assholes.

They still kill people.

They made someone vanish once. Attached themselves to someone’s shadow and made the guy translucent. Yes, translucent. Do you know what that means?

Light passed through him. The guy was basically half invisible.

He didn’t have a shadow. He couldn’t absorb heat properly and he eventually got too weak to continue. Every day he was fading away more and more…

I don’t know how they do it. I can’t understand the physics of it. But I know they’re here.

Try not to step on them.

What else is there…

Lempkits. Oh God. I HATE Lempkits!

They are shitty little furry bastards who run around everywhere and are little pieces of shit. I hate them. They don’t do anything much besides being annoying little shits.

They break machines, they clog pipes, they eat everything. They’re like cockroaches with hair, but bigger. They don’t do much individually, but get twenty of them together and they will attack a human.

I saw it once. An old man fell down, on the street. I even started walking to go help him. A Lempkit spotted him first. He sniffed the old man and tasted him with his antenna. It was… so fast. I didn’t have time to react.

They swarmed him. He was dead in a matter of seconds.

It’s not right. We shouldn’t have to live like this. Something needs to change.

This town matters to me. I want to make a difference, to help people. Help my family.

My own family… My uncle. He was a victim of this.

There are these things. We don’t talk about them a lot. Even though we should. They are, well, invisible. But trust me you’ll know they’re there. They are massive, like building size, but they barely move.

My uncle was killed by one of them.

They always do the same thing. You can’t see them but one day you’ll just be walking by and they’ll pick you up. They’ll pick you up until you’re as high as you’ve ever been. Soaring through the sky, like a bird…

And then pop. They twist you.

That’s what they did with my uncle. People can’t see much; you just see a red mist exploding in the sky. I don’t know why they even do it.

People don’t talk about them a lot because they’re the most “peaceful”. Only a death every five years or so. I don’t care. I hate them.

Fuck those things. They are weird. You can see them sometimes. During thunderstorms they become visible. Do you know those old radio towers? They look like that. Or some high voltage tower. They just stand there waiting.

If you are ever going down the freeway during a storm and you spot a radio tower suspiciously in the middle of the forest. Well, watch out. It could be one of them.

You might be close to our town. Don’t go near it.

And finally, Therions. I’m not going to bother talking about Therions. They suck, they don’t do anything useful for society. They don’t even kill people properly.

Everyone hates Therions, from human to monster alike. They’re… They’re just repulsive. Who the hell would like Therions?! They should go back from where they come from as far as I’m concerned.

That’s most of them, I think. It sucks. It’s always the same thing every election cycle. Some creature gets elected, usually an Orgron. They make a bunch of promises they can’t keep, and then their side kills a bunch of people.

The monsters usually try to make things cordial between themselves, but they couldn’t care less what humans think.

That’s why I think I can make a difference. For our side. I need to convince people. Maybe even get the monster’s vote (yeah sure thing).

I mean I can’t be worse than our last mayor. He was an umbral. It was kinda controversial.

He had to resign.

Now you must be thinking. Did he kill someone? Or maybe too many people? And that’s why he had to go? Nope. He had an affair. Cheating on his wife (shadow wife?). That’s not really that unheard of for these creatures. The issue was slightly different.

He had an affair with a human.

I guess that’s going to be our last umbral mayor for a while. Probably back to Ogrons as usual. Those massive invisible things are unlikely to win, they’ve never won an election. I don’t think they even vote.

And hell if I ever vote for a Lempkit. You might assume they’d win a lot of since there’s so many of them. Well, no, each Lempkit counts as one fifth of a vote.

So maybe there’s a chance for me. Maybe I’ll win, I don’t know I think it’s worth trying. So, like I said I’m asking for opinions online and seeing what works and what doesn’t.

I guess I’ll go out there and mingle with people. Try to see what they need in their lives. I’ll also try to figure out why I’m the only human in fifty years that’s in the running. What a shitshow this is going to be.

Catch you later! Don’t forget to vote!

 

 

Update:

Hey Chris here, haven’t updated this in five days. Came to check on it. There’s been some new… developments.

I found out an uncomfortable truth during my absence. I found out who appointed me. It was the monsters, well except Therions (fuck them). I guess it makes sense…

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I was bound to be found out eventually.

It’s not every day they see their eggs smashed by a baseball bat. It’s not every day they see their children being set ablaze by Molotovs.  I really can’t help myself. I wish nothing more but to crush their little skulls.

Even Orgrons. It’s surprisingly easy to strangle their necks when they’re young.

So yeah, I was caught. They found out about me. But it got me thinking.

Why not?

Why not do things different? Who says monsters are the ones who have to kill? Who says we need to have peace?

I think it’s time for a change. I think it’s time to be different. For a new way of thinking. Maybe we shouldn’t just want peace, maybe we should learn something from them.

I guess that’s why I’m in the running. They respect that. It’s the only thing they understand.

 

Hey, I just got the idea for my slogan.

“Vote Chris Penton. For a future without monsters”.

 I check the time, 11:32 PM. I was supposed to go to sleep after three “last episodes" ago since I have a meeting with my boss tomorrow and can’t afford to wake up late. 

 I finally get up off the couch and start getting ready for bed. I brush my teeth, brush my hair, check the locks on the doors. All that's left is to say good night to Albert.

 Albert is exactly where I expected him to be, in front of the patio door, his tail and ears tucked while his eyes watch the empty back yard like a camera.

 I reach out to pet him, but he startles back. 

 “Calm down buddy, it’s me. What’s got you all spooked?”

 I scan the backyard, not seeing anything but the dark empty lawn.

 There’s nothing there, he probably just needs to use the bathroom.

 “Why don’t you use the buttons, tell me what's wrong.” I gesture to the buttons on the ground.

 I bought Albert a set of buttons that have a word associated and read aloud when they're pressed. There are buttons for walk, bathroom, play, outside, mom, food, now, and a few more.

 Albert hesitantly walks over, not wanting to abandon his post. He stands in front of them for a moment thinking before placing his paw on a button.

 Outside. The robotic button announces.

 Weird, he never uses that one. If he wants to go outside, he picks “walk” or “bathroom”.

 “You wanna go outside?” It’s late, but a few minutes of cold fresh air could be nice before bed.

 “Sure, let’s go.”

 I walk towards the glass sliding door, reaching for the handle. A loud bark startles me.  Albert is an old dog and he hardly ever barks. Instead he relies on the buttons.

 “I get it, I get it. You're too energetic for your age. Watch, I'm opening it right now.”

 I unlock the door, and slide it open. He firmly stands in place, but his ears and tail are tucked and he explodes into deafening barks, each one sounds like it's using all the air in his lungs. 

 It freaks me out. I quickly shut the door and lock it and put a stick behind the door for extra measure.

 Albert stops barking but he’s growling weakly.

 There has to be something out there. He never acts like this. I flip on the patio light.

 Nothing. No light.

 I flick the switch a few more times.

 Still dark.

 Damn. The bulbs dead. I don’t use the patio lights much, how’s it’s burned out?

 I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight and try to wave the beam through the glass. But the light is too weak to see anything more than a few feet.

 Should I call the cops? But what would I say? “My dogs barking at nothing.” I should get some sleep, I don’t have time for this. 

 “Ok buddy, maybe you just saw a squirrel or something, you can sleep in my room tonight if that calms you down, and maybe calm me down too.” 

 I try guiding him by lightly dragging his collar but he doesn't move, he just stares into the empty nothingness outside. I try yanking harder, but it feels like I'm trying to pull a statue.
 
 “Come on Albert-” I huff, “I’ll give you a treat if you come.” I'm practically choking him but he still won’t budge.

 I defeatedly let go. “Fine, be that way. You can stay out here.” 

 I walk away, expecting to hear his paws scrabble to follow me. But no, when I glance back, he’s still there, in the same spot, watching.

 I crawl into bed and close my eyes and try to relax.

 Outside. 

 The sound of the button is muffled through the wall. I roll over and try to ignore it.

 Outside.

 Outside. 

 Does Albert know what the button means? Did I teach him correctly?

 Outside. Outside. Outside.

 He’s starting to piss me off, I just want to sleep.

 Outside. Now. Outside. Now.

 I push myself out of bed to see what's going on.

 I walk back into the dining room.  Albert is still in his spot now focused more than ever, his growling vibrates the air.

 I stare into the yard, for a moment, the clouds part, moon lights beams down to reveal… nothing.

 “That's it Albert, you're going on mute. Sorry buddy.”

 I remove the batteries from the ‘outside’ and ‘now’ buttons.

 I scrutinize the rest. Just in case, I thought and pulled out all the batteries for the rest of the buttons.

 “I promise I'll put them back after we figure out what's got you jumpy, for now just try to get some rest.”

 I march back to bed, finally at ease. My eyes get heavy and I start to drift to sleep.

 Outside. Now. 

 The buttons again.…

I imagined it, I tell myself. But I doubt that the moment I think it. I pull the blankets over my head, every muscle tense, always one moment away from calling the police.

 OUTSIDE.  NOW. 

 This time I know I wasn't imagining it, and it’s much louder. I grab my phone and dial 911.

 The call rings, and rings and rings endlessly. My grip tightens around the phone.

 COME. OUTSIDE. NOW.

 …’Come’ isn't one of the buttons, I think to myself, and I'm too scared to move, or to even cry.

I opened my eyes, looking around confused. How did I get here? My last memory was winding down before bed; I had a bad headache that wouldn’t go away.
I lift my head and start to look around me. It’s dark, the ground is a heavy clay below me leaving imprints of my feet. There was a forest of tall trees all clawing towards the sky, completely naked. Brittle, dead leaves barely clinging onto the limbs of the trees. The sky was dark, only a few stars glimmering overhead. There was a big lake, the water looked like spilled black ink. There was no wind, no warmth but the water was folding over itself in the distance.
I noticed an old shipwreck not too far from me, it looked abandoned. I know I should have been scared, but it was quiet and I felt safe. Against everything I would have normally done, I started walking towards the shipwreck. It’s like it called to me, this feeling, an urge to go see what’s inside. It wasn’t a big boat. I climbed up a small ladder leading me up to the deck. The floor below me creaked slightly. I realised I was holding my breath this whole time. I let myself exhale while I was finding the courage to look around.
I started walking to the back of the boat towards a door that was slightly leaned open, like it was already waiting for me. I pulled the door open slowly, trying to make no noise. It was too quiet, I felt like everyone in the world could hear my every move.
I took half a step in, even though a big curiosity took over me I was still on high alert. I looked around a small room; it was almost empty. I took another, this time full step into the room. I squinted my eyes still adjusting to the dark. I saw the walls were covered in picture frames. Some were normal, like portraits of people, couples, families. But some were alarming, portraits of people covered in blood, but not as if they were in danger but as if they were dangerous themselves. My stomach started getting an uneasy feeling, my hands started to become wet, and I had a weird feeling all the way down my spine. I stepped back out of the room, closing the door fully behind me. I exhaled.
The question came to me again -Where am I? How did I get here? Is this real?
I walked back onto the deck, looking into the lake. I noticed another shipwreck, this time only half a ship. I could barely make it out. My eyes started adjusting to the darkness in the distance and I could just barely make out a person, standing at the top of the shipwreck waving at me.
I thought they might be in danger, I need to help them. I felt my pockets for my phone just to realise I had nothing on me. My mouth felt dry. I should ignore them, but what if they were in real danger? I could never forgive myself if something happened to this person, knowing that I could have at least tried to help.
I felt a pain in my hands. I looked down, there was four crescent shapes in each palm. I didn’t realise how tense I was just thinking about it. I must help. I start looking around me and notice a small blow-up boat with a small paddle. It’s all ready to go.
Weird, I thought to myself. It’s like it was already prepared and left there for me to use. Ignoring all the signs that would usually have me rolling my eyes at people in horror movies, I pick up the blow-up boat. I throw it onto the ground by the ladder. I take one quick look all around me just to make sure it’s just me here.
All clear. I put the blow-up boat onto the lake and sit into it.
Is this really a good idea? I have never even been on a boat until now, and I don’t know how to swim so if anything, I’m putting me and the other person in danger.
But the guilt hits me again, I rather at least attempt to help.
I start doing my best to paddle out to the other shipwreck. It’s not far, but the water isn’t steady
As soon as I’m close to the shipwreck, I look up. A coldness runs through me. The person is dressed head to toe. Black leather gloves, black hoodie, black bottoms, black shoes, a black hat and a black ski mask and glasses. I start to really regret my decision, but I still want to make sure they are okay. I shout up “are you okay? Do you need help? Are you hurt?” but no answer. The person, I’m assuming male by the height and build.
I got a bad gut feeling, So I started backing away. I kept checking over my shoulder, but he was still standing there, not moving one inch just facing my direction. When I was halfway back to land, I looked back again. He jumped into the water and started swimming towards me. My heart started to hammer against my ribs, my pulse like thunder in my ears. What was he doing? Why am I here? Did he bring me here on purpose? My thoughts were racing.
I finally got to land. With every breath I took, I could feel my heart in my throat. I ran up to the shipwreck I had explored minutes earlier. I hid by the small room, trying to become one with the darkness.
He got to land and did a stretch like it was a casual sunny day at the beach, and he had just had a nice swim.
He started casually walking up to the shipwreck I was on. My stomach was in a knot, I didn’t know if I was going to throw up, scream, I could barely tell I was breathing.
He was on the deck. He walked towards the room I had explored earlier and started doing a tap on the wall. There was no rhythm to it, he was just letting me know he was close. He knew I was here. He knew I was close.
I started crawling towards the opposite side of the deck, I wanted to try make my way around and back to the ladder. His head kept following every direction I went. He continued with the tapping, the slow walking towards me like he knew there was no way out for me.
Fear had a grip on me; the panic was clawing at the edges of my mind. All I could think was ‘run’.
I stood up, and ran towards the ladder, taking one look at him before jumping down the ladder. He just stood there, watching me. Watching my panic completely take over. He was playing a game with me, and I was losing.
I ran towards the trees. I didn’t go too deep into those woods because I was scared I would get lost. I peered past the tree towards the shipwreck. He jumped down and started sprinting towards the trees. He was so close to me.
I started to sprint in a blind panic.
Why? Where am I? How did I get here? What does he want from me?
I was running out of options; I didn’t know where I was or what to do. Fear completely took over. I ran towards the lake. I just jumped into the water and tried my best to swim away. I looked back, and there he was.
He slowed down, got in the water and started swimming towards me. He was swimming right behind me, looking at me the way an alligator looks at its prey.
I spun around and tried swimming away in a panic.
I couldn’t help it. I kept looking back. He was so calm, the water was rippling around him. He wasn’t in a rush. He was taking this all in.
“What do you want from me??” I screamed desperately. No answer. Only silence. Only the noise of me trying to swim away.
I looked back again. This time he caught my ankle. He slowly lifted out of the water something shiny. At first, it was hard to make out. But then my vision adjusted and undeniably it was a carving knife.
I lost hope at the sight of it. I had nowhere left to go.
I stopped struggling. My arms fell limp at my sides as I let myself sink, surrendering to the cold embrace of the water. I could feel the cold lake consume me; the water was pulling me down making me feel heavy and weightless at the same time. The cold water was pouring into my lungs. My vision blurred,I saw him dive under the water, knife held tightly in his hand, drawings his arm back ready to strike.
Just as he was about to make contact, I saw blackness.
I opened my eyes. I was holding my breath. I sat up examining every part of my body I could see. I looked around me; I was in my room.
I was exactly where I had laid down right after taking ibuprofen to help with the awful headache I had. I felt like my skin was buzzing, sweat trickled down my back and forehead,
It was just a dream.    

Hey guys I’ve been stressing about making a part two to my story Welcome to the Jungle:Part 1. anytime I’ve written a sequel it always falls flat or I become hyper critical of it myself. But I really enjoy this story and want to make sure it lives up to part 1

any ideas that could help?

Edit: thanks to you guys I got the courage to write my rough draft of part two.

Hey guys, just wanted to slap some advice on this community. Don’t hesitate to reach out to publishers and pros if you’re trying to make a career out of being an author. After publishing my last story, I personally reached out to small bookstores and found that MOST of them offer a program to sell indie authors!!!! So now, I am in the process of getting my book to the store for them to sell!! Where I’m getting with this is, SHOOT YOUR SHOT. Stop second guessing, stop handicapping your own stories!! Let them fly, let them explore the world!!! That being said, if you have a story you want read, we are still taking submissions!!! This train don’t stop!! We’ve already recorded 2 more episodes! So please SHOOT YOUR SHOT!!! I can’t offer much but an audience!! Please reach out!!! We want to help you!!! Happy fourth fellow Americans!!!!

Nosleep is by far the biggest horror story subreddit, but it's rules are somewhat limiting in tearms of how you can write your story.

So I'm wondering if it's worth the extra exposure to make sure my story is also suitable for nosleep?

Okay as some of yall may know, I pretty much ONLY write horror stories based on Hunter and Isaiah’s bits where they’re like “we need a story like this” and it’s outlandish and stupid. I’m almost done with “replaced” and surprisingly, I did live through that weird Canada trip, so I got time.
Are there any good bits I should do by them and write out?
(This is how I procrastinate writing my actual book when I get writers block and or what I do when I’m in the hospital)