The Neverglades by David Farrow

Author:David Farrow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, supernatural, creepypasta
Publisher: David Farrow
Published: 2021-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

IF THE INSPECTOR WASN'T going to come to me, I would have to go to him. My first instinct was to check the station. I had no idea how widespread this was, but if the world had turned purple and all the townsfolk had been replaced by those sticky orbs, surely the Inspector would be on the case. I pulled on some clothes, grabbed a jacket from the closet, and headed out into the night. It was colder than it had been yesterday. The air out here was full of those little specks, which floated past my face on a breeze I couldn’t feel.

After five minutes of struggling with the engine, I had to begrudgingly accept that my car wasn’t going to start. I yanked my old mountain bike off the wall in the garage, praying the tires weren’t completely shot; it had been years since I’d given the thing a whirl. But the bike stood steady, so I resumed the old stance, my fingers gripping the handlebars with a little more force than necessary. I kicked off and sped down the road.

The Glade didn’t quite look like the hellscape from my dream, but the similarities were there. The purple light made everything seem slightly off and turned perfectly innocent cars and houses into grotesque shadows of themselves. I stared at them and not the void overhead, which threatened to give me a migraine if I looked at it for too long.

There wasn’t a single soul out on the streets. I had never heard such utter silence before; no birds chirping, no distant cars, no rustle of leaves along the pavement. Even the clatter of my bike seemed muted. Was I the only one left?

The thought had barely crossed my mind when I felt a sudden buzzing in my pocket. The sensation scared the hell out of me and I almost took a tumble off the bicycle. Gliding to a stop in the closest driveway, I yanked the phone from my pocket. The screen was dark and dead, like everything else in this place, but somehow a call was still coming through. I held the black screen up to my ear.

“Hello?” I breathed.

“Hannigan?” said the voice on the other end. “Sweet Christ, is that really you?”

“Marconi!” I tucked the phone against my shoulder and glanced around the empty neighborhood. “God, I’ve never been so happy to hear your voice. Where the hell are you?”

“I’m at home. Where the hell are you?”

“Trying to find the Inspector. Are you seeing this?”

“I’m not sure what I’m seeing, Hannigan.”

A low moaning floated down the street, like a wheezing foghorn, and I nearly dropped my cell. I ducked behind a peeling fence and peered through a crack in the wood. The flecks in the air had grown agitated, and there were... things... slithering along the pavement. I’m not even sure what to call them. They had too many scuttling legs to be snakes but were far too big to be centipedes. I cringed a little, my fingers curling around the phone, but the wriggling little beasts didn’t get anywhere near me.

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