Episode Details

Welcome to Creepypasta and Scary StoriesI am your host Spooky Boo. I’m back from a nice little vacation and I’m all rested up. Coming back from the beautiful beaches of Norcal to my comfy little studio has been difficult to get used to, but the show must go on! Today I bring to you ghosts, ghouls, and creepy things that go bump in the night.  Are these true stories? No one really knows. They come from the creepy pasta library where some are assumed to be true. All we know is that someone had an idea to write about something dark and eerie.First, I’d like to invite you to listen to the stories I’ve written at my other podcast Spooky Boo’s Scary Story Time. You can find out more at www.scarystorytime.com or visit my Patreon page at www.spookyboo.club.I’d also like to invite you to watch Creature Features with me on Saturday nights at 9 pm Pacific on YouTube where you can watch the wonderful Vincent van Dahl interview exciting guests along with his housemate Tangella and his valet Mr. Livingston. Get the link at www.creaturefeatures.tv.Now let’s begin.The Children of Woodharrow ParkMy life had recently been plagued by a persistent bought of rotten luck.I’d been terminated from my last job, the weeks spent unemployed were slipping into months despite the stacks of applications I’d filled out, and every credit card I possessed had been maxed out to its limit. Bitterness and self-loathing had poisoned every fiber of my being and left me with an inescapable melancholy that I was starting to believe was incurable. My latest humiliation had been to dig through my wallet for spare change as a cashier fixed me with a plastered-on smile and an impatient line grew behind me, only to find that I still didn’t have enough money to purchase a meager amount of groceries.I’d headed to Woodharrow Park afterwards—a local secluded, sleepy stretch of land—to clear my head. The park was empty when I arrived, leaving me free to wander the paths alone and aimlessly. Hunger gnawed away at me like a familiar enemy I could never quite shake. In a final indignity, the previously-sunny sky suddenly began to pour rain—I, of course, was not carrying an umbrella.I was so absorbed in my own misery that I barely felt the gentle tug on my jacket sleeve.Looking back, I wish that I’d kept walking along the park path without so much as glancing downwards. I wish that I’d ignored the soft, silent plea for my attention. I wish that I hadn’t made the horrible mistake of believing that a hand with a touch so timid and helpless was incapable of holding the power to be terrifying. But instead I foolishly stopped in my tracks, and ever since that fateful decision I have not had a single moment of peace.I looked down to see two children standing at my side and immediately felt a jolt of unpleasant surprise. Both stood no higher than my waist, one slightly taller than the other, and both were clad in black raincoats that looked more suited for a sepia-toned photograph than a modern day child. They each wore matching wide brim hats that drooped atop their small heads and obscured most of their faces. Though I could vaguely discern that the taller of the pair was boy and the shortest a girl, I was unable to see any features above the pallid flesh of their swollen cheeks. Their lips were so colorless that it appeared as if they had little more than a thin white sliver for a mouth. The children’s bodies were round without any of the cherubic softness associated with youth—rather, they looked unnaturally bulbous, bloated to the point of near grotesqueness. Unbrushed tufts of stringy blond hair jutted from beneath their hats like tangled straw, dry as a brittle bone and seemingly untouched by so much as a single drop of rain.“Hello,” I said, forcing myself to sound upbeat.They stared up at me in silence. The girl continued to cling to my sleeve.“Are you okay?” I asked. By now I was drenched and eager to head back to my car. “Do you need some help?”But the pair remained mute. I st