swing installation

Creepypasta #1029: The Things That Live Under My House Just Found A Way In

Length: Super long

Last week, my wife Katie and I finally closed on our new house, which we’d purchased for a laughable fraction of what the place was really worth. In retrospect, the price should’ve been a red flag, but who can blame me for jumping on this deal? The place was a steal and was no more than a half hour from my downtown office. It was a decent sized two story home with 3 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, and a large but not unmanageably colossal backyard where I planned to install a swing set or a swimming pool when Ellie was old enough (she’s currently the most adorable four year old on the face of the earth, but I digress). Not to mention, we were separated from our neighbors by a good half-acre of woods on either side, so we had more than enough privacy. Anyway, the house wasn’t a mansion by any stretch of the imagination, but it was more than adequate for the purposes of raising a young family in.

Unfortunately, the collective high of buying our first home didn’t last long. By the end of the second or third night, we’d become aware of some bizarre things going on in and around the house. The first thing we noticed were these faint scratching noises coming from what sounded like inside the walls. We figured a squirrel or a small bird had likely found its way behind the drywall and gotten trapped, so we began scheming ways to get the poor thing out without wreaking havoc on the structure. But we had no idea what the hell we were doing and got absolutely nowhere. I was just about one step away from taking a sledgehammer to the living room wall when Katie smartly suggested to let animal control take a swing at things before I ended up bringing down the entire damn house.

But in the three days before the specialist arrived, things took a sharp and unnerving downturn. The scratching got exponentially worse, and when things were quiet enough, we realized we could hear a distinct buzzing sound from underneath the floorboards, almost like there was a titanic beehive beneath the foundations of the house. 

As the hours turned into days, the buzzing got increasingly loud until you no longer had to strain to hear it. Then we noticed we could hear different scratchings from different parts of the wall simultaneously, and we realized we weren’t dealing with a single animal, but likely an infestation of some kind.

Things finally came to a head the morning the exterminator was scheduled to arrive. Katie and I woke up about an hour after dawn to the sound of Ellie screaming herself hoarse from her bedroom down the hall. My paternal instincts immediately kicked in and burned right through my early-morning grogginess, and before I knew what was happening I was bounding away towards her room. I threw open her door and immediately froze in my tracks.

What I saw there still scares the shit out of me - it was some kind of enormous hornet-like thing the size of a football, with a three and a half inch stinger jutting from its lower abdomen. Its hard to describe, but to put the damn thing’s sheer size into perspective, the flapping of its wings produced a sound that was as much like a small whooshing as it was identical to the insect-like buzz we’d been hearing.

In any case, I’d like to say I grit my teeth and charged the bastard with an upturned broom stick for threatening my baby girl, but that’s not the case - I instead slipped on my own sweat and fell on my ass out of sheer shock. Luckily for everyone, though, the bug didn’t seem too interested in taking on a full grown man, and it bolted back into the hole beneath the loose closet floor board the second it spotted me. 

Ellie was screaming uncontrollably the entire time, and a second or two later, Katie burst into the room, eyes wide with anxious confusion. I scrambled to my feet and ran to my daughter, hugging and kissing her and telling her the “mean bug” was gone and that she’d be okay, but it did little good. She continued to wail, and before long Katie began bombarding me with questions of her own.

“I don’t know, Kate,” I said as I picked the still whimpering Ellie up over my shoulder and started stroking her hair. “It was some sort of bug. Like a really, really huge one. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

We headed downstairs, plopped Ellie on the couch with a bowl of cereal and some cartoons, and headed into the kitchen to discuss the incident in harsh whispers.

Keep reading

Starter

@gathering-storm (I’m up for any character)

How Angel would spend his days off is either hanging with his friends or bring work to the streets. By that, meaning put on a show for the urban masses. In fact, the young man can be seen standing atop a building holding an installed trapeze swing. Another identical swing is set up atop another building across the street from it. A handful of people stopped to see what the daredevil of a performer is doing. Angel immediately started swinging back and forth. Occasionally, he detaches himself to do a 360˚ spin before grabbing the same bar. After gaining enough momentum, Angel hurls himself into the open air. His body made numerous twirls and flips. He made it to the other side of the wide street, catching the other swing with his hands. The crowd went extremely wild, some whistled, others are recording Angel on their devices. As long as the crowd is enjoying the show, nothing could make the acrobat happier.