Archive for the ‘Creepypasta’ Category

4-2-14
6:55am

Welcome to Southern California where if we have anything other than sunny 80 degree days, all hell breaks loose.

Where the hell do I even start?

We lost power for several hours yesterday, lightning strike took out a major transformer or something. Radio reports are saying that this storm came out of nowhere, and that all the indicators said that such a storm shouldn’t be sustainable, let alone growing. And it is growing, apparently at a ‘frightening rate’. Most of California and Oregon are covered in it now, it’s expected to hit Washington, Nevada and Utah later today.
Elizabeth’s boss called last night and told her to stay home until things get better.
Lexy’s school is canceled because of the hazard.
The Emergency Broadcast Signal is going off every fifteen minutes with flash flood warnings, high surf advisories, mud slide evacuation instructions…
There have been six ‘serious’ slides in the past twenty four hours.
Streets are flooding.

But I still need to go to work.
I shit you not.

Weird side note from yesterday: I don’t know if I just missed it or something, but there were a couple of lightning strikes that didn’t have thunder. I mean, they HAD to have thunder right? You can’t have lightning without thunder, its the way nature works, but I swear there were four or five strikes yesterday where there weren’t. I mean, I guess I could’ve missed them…fifty mile an hour winds can get pretty loud…but one of the strikes was only a block from the shop, I should’ve heard that one.

8:20am

The storm is starting to mess with the radio, must be all the electricity in the air, or that LIGHTNING HIT THE DAMN ROAD 20 YARDS FROM ME ON THE WAY TO WORK. I’m still shaking from that. Winds are really kicking up an causing the clouds to move really oddly, makes some really strange shadows. Creepy.

11:55pm
Massive evacuations underway.
Laguna Beach, Newport and most coastal cities are being emptied.
EBS isn’t saying why, but most people are assuming mud slides, or something to do with that 8.2 Chilean earthquake. All that’s for sure is that all hell is breaking loose.
The storm had already reached Stateline, and there’s talks of widespread evacuations of many desert towns because of fears of Flash flooding.
Radios continue to have weird interference, and cable is out.
I’ll be amazed if the network holds up for this to get posted.

2:04pm
Roads are being closed, cops are telling people to stay inside.
More lightning without thunder, the girls at the flowershop have noticed it too.
Think we just had an aftershock from the La Habra quake last week, the whole floor rumbled. We thought it was a low helicopter at first, but all air traffic has been grounded.
What the hell is going on?

2:10pm
Cops just told us we are being evacuated to higher ground and away from the hills.
‘We don’t care where you go, just get to higher ground.’
WTF?
Cell network is down. I can’t reach my wife or my kid. Running on WiFi right now. Can anyone let me know if they’re okay?

5:52pm

Wife and daughter are safe, getting home took every bit of street lore that I have.
Elizabeth insists she saw something moving in the clouds. She had a lot of trouble describing it, clouds obscured the view, but she insists it was there.

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4-1-14
6:55am

Woke up to rain today, a heavy torrential downpour that I vaguely recall hearing begin last night after we went to bed. Between that and Edison’s snorting, wheezing, protests at realizing he was going to have to get walked in it made for an interesting start to my day. Thank god for coffee, right? Even while driving Elizabeth to work we were hard pressed to see at certain points during the 15 mile drive down to her office in Capistrano. The drive back was even more eventful since people in Southern California can’t drive in a light mist, let alone a god damn torrent like what is outside right now. I saw cars hydroplane and spin more than once, and pointedly made sure to keep myself to the side and moving at no more than 50mph the whole way back home.

Had to ‘Alarm Pug’ Lex to get her out of bed, but when she got up and heard the storm she was grinning. She loves the rain.

The storm is going to complicate work, doing delivery driving in the rain is a big enough pain, but when it’s flowers…uhg.

I doubt I’ll be making any money today at all.

7:21am

Oh great, now there’s thunder and lightning.
Awesome.

8:46am
Jesus Christ! So, dropped off Lex at school and somehow managed to make it to work without getting killed. Damn California drivers, I swear.
I think the storm has actually gotten worse, and the thunder constantly sounds like it’s directly overhead, no matter how far off the lightning is.

9:30am
I’ve been watching the clouds while my orders are getting prepped, gun metal gray masses wrapped in velvet black. This roiling, churning, ebon morass hanging over our head. I can’t believe people are ordering flowers in this shit..

Hey people, so we are going to try an experiment.

As mentioned in a previous post, I’m going to try my hand at a epistolary novel. I’m not going to give you any spoilers, except that it is going to be sci-fi/survival/horror based.
Any time you see a post marked [Storm Wardens], make sure you check back periodically throughout the day for additional edits throughout the day as our intrepid hero chronicles his journey.

Basically, this is something I’m going to be writing and dictating in my downtime while I’m at work. Partly because I want to, partly because it’ll keep me sane on super slow days.

So, remember, if you see a post from me marked [Storm Wardens] to check back frequently to keep abreast of the story as it unfolds!

We heard it again today, that low droning noise that knocked out our communication with Huston for hours on end.

Humans truly have no scope of the sheer size of the universe, nor for the unfathomable ocean of blackness that stretches between heavenly bodies.

Things that seem so close, even within our own solar system, can take months or even years to reach by any man made craft. But when the human mind is finally confronted with the vast abyss between planets, and then try to compare that to the virtual infinite night between stars, we just can’t process it.

We, as a species, can not fathom being so small.

That is why when we first saw them in 2009, we couldn’t understand. The first time we saw them, truly saw them, was in imagery from the Cassini and Hubble telescopes. An infrared silhouette just outside the outer most ring of Saturn. We called it an ‘outgassing’ of one of the larger bodies within the rings, dust and ice refracting light and causing the line just outside the rings. Then the Helio Observatory caught another image in 2012. A shadow, just on the rim of the sun, sucking in plasma like a vacuum. We tried to reason it away, calling it a ‘coronal cavity’ or ‘plasma cooling event’. We could only see a slight edge, and already we knew the shadow was bigger than our entire world. We buried our heads, reasoned it away, and never thought of it again. The objects we were seeing were bigger than anything conceivable to the human mind, things bigger than entire continents. Bigger than our Moon. Bigger than Earth.

It was…impossible.

In 2014, the Europa Races began. It was quiet at first, but word began to slip that we were bypassing our old fixation with our closest neighbor, Mars, in favor of going to one of the frozen moons of Jupiter. Over the next decade, we saw a surge in the dwindling space program. The Second Cold War was grinding into motion, pitting us against the Allied Eastern Bloc of Russia, China, Syria and Iran.

We saw them again in our own sky, or at least their shadow, when the moon went dark for fifteen minutes. Again, we scrambled for a rational explanation. A massive, previously undetected asteroid crossing at just the right angle. A coronal mass ejection that darkened the sun just enough.
Something.
Anything.

China was the first to launch, the combined manpower of a million workers with the greatest minds of the rest of the Allied Eastern Bloc propelled them into the heavens and streaking towards Jupiter. The world watched, every day, as the AEB broadcast the reports and messages of the crew. It would take them two years to reach Jupiter, but it never arrived. The signal, terminating midstream, eighteen months into the journey.

We found the chinese ship yesterday. Their craft hidden, unmarked and undamaged, on the other side of Ganymede.
There was no one inside.

We can only assume their encounters have been similar to ours. I don’t know if you can hear any of this, if it will ever reach you, but I have to try.

We are so very small.

We caught our first real look at them, a clear image, last week after we lost contact. They were rising out of Jupiter’s atmosphere, the wisps of gas clouds leaving tendrils that seemed to stick to the hull. When the light catches it just right, it twinkles in colors that I have no words to describe.

I can scarcely say whether they notice us at all, or if they do, if we are but little more than an amusing afterthought as one would have looking at a puppy or even an insect that was investigating us. How dim and simple we must seem, little more than grunting animals that have learned to hurl themselves brutally into the void where these beings glide and dance.

I have seen them stop, suddenly, while traveling at speeds we can not fathom. Turn and spin in ways that defy every known law.

How can we even begin to dream that we could, even one day, be likened unto them? How can we dare?

Hollister cut his own throat this morning after rambling of how we were trespassing among Gods. McKenzie hasn’t left the barracks in two days, saying that even glimpsing them causes her eyes to throb and a stabbing pain in her temples. She talks in her sleep, as though being asked questions, but I can rarely make out her murmured words. Is this what happened to the Chinese? Did those brave men and women simply go mad at this revelation, or was it something else? Did they take them, and now realize exactly how truly simple we are and now do not even bother to acknowledge us?

I’ve been staring at one of them for hours now, here in the command module. It has simply been sitting, silent and unmoving. We feel no pull of gravity, the nearby moons and stellar debris seem as oblivious to its presence as it is to theirs.

Is it even metal? The twinkle and shimmer of those bizarre colors seem almost crystalline, yet the shell is opaque and seems as solid as  the moons it hovers around.

I get the feeling they are looking at us now. Assessing. Wondering. As though they somehow know I’m talking about them, like when your ears burn when someone elsewhere speaks ill of you. Can they understand awe? Do they even have a concept for it anymore? Could we even communicate with such beings? Would we truly want to? We have been trying. Broadcasting sequences of prime numbers, complex mathematics, patterns of lights, even ‘Hello, we come in peace’, but we are only ever answered in silence.

I’ve been so lost in this that I didn’t notice the warning lights. The proximity warning. One is directly above us now, maybe only thirty feet from our ship. We felt nothing as it approached. It’s like I could reach out and touch it, as though we were hung from the bottom of the world like a toy rocket. But now I feel a sense of dread. An annoyance at we tiny things who dare to look where we ought not.

I think it won’t be long unt-