Latest / History Dark / I Searched for a Legend in the Desert. I Found a Nightmare Instead _ Creepypasta

Transcript

I Searched for a Legend in the Desert. I Found a Nightmare Instead _ Creepypasta · History Dark

• 0:00
  Speaker 1: Before we begin tonight's story, I just want to say
• 0:03
  Speaker 1: thank you for listening to Macabre Horror. If you enjoy
• 0:06
  Speaker 1: my horror narrations, you can also follow the Macabre Horror
• 0:09
  Speaker 1: podcast on Spotify, where I upload new stories regularly. And
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• 0:24
  Speaker 1: will help you stay connected to the channel, regardless of
• 0:27
  Speaker 1: what happens. Now, turn down the lights, get comfortable, and
• 0:33
  Speaker 1: let's begin tonight's story. I'm sure everyone has heard of
• 0:39
  Speaker 1: mirages in the desert. At one point or another, I'm
• 0:43
  Speaker 1: certain that everyone has seen that old cartoon where two
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  Speaker 1: people are stuck in the desert, and one begins to
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  Speaker 1: hallucinate and see an oasis, which upon investigation, quickly turns
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  Speaker 1: into a cactus or a scorpion nest. I want you
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  Speaker 1: to keep that concept of mirages and desert hallucinations in
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  Speaker 1: the back of your mind while you hear this. I'm
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  Speaker 1: here to tell you something about mirages. To tell you
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  Speaker 1: the truth, I've always been afflicted with a bit of wanderlust.
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  Speaker 1: I just had to see everything and experience it all.
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  Speaker 1: I saw the Northern Lights, aka Aurora Borealis in Greenland,
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  Speaker 1: the jungles of the Amazon, and explored the abandoned radioactive
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  Speaker 1: ruins of Pripyat. I loved to visit places that very
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  Speaker 1: few people have actually seen. My latest conquest was the
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  Speaker 1: Gobi Desert. I'd always wanted to boast and say that
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  Speaker 1: I'd trekked through a desert. I'm also a bit of
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  Speaker 1: a cryptozoologist. I stalked around the woods of New Jersey,
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  Speaker 1: hoping to see the legendary Jersey Devil. I wandered around
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  Speaker 1: almost every wooded area, expecting to catch a glimpse of Bigfoot.
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  Speaker 1: My trip to the Gobi Desert held ulterior motives. I
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  Speaker 1: wanted to see the sights and travel through the desert.
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  Speaker 1: I also wanted to search for the Gobi Desert Death Worm,
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  Speaker 1: also known as the Mongolian Death Worm. The descriptions of
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  Speaker 1: the worm only piqued my interest. It was two to
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  Speaker 1: five feet long, bright red, and was capable of killing
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  Speaker 1: anyone that touched it. so I spent the next couple
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  Speaker 1: of months working, scrimping and saving enough money together to
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  Speaker 1: afford a trip to the Gobi Desert. I even managed
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  Speaker 1: to hire a guide. That cost me a little extra,
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  Speaker 1: but I thought it would be worth it. The day
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  Speaker 1: finally came when I hopped a plane to Mongolia and
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  Speaker 1: set about appeasing my wanderlust and hunt for the legendary cryptid.
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  Speaker 1: As I was inexperienced with the area, I wanted to
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  Speaker 1: find my guide right away, and set about touring the
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  Speaker 1: area and pick up a bit of the local culture.
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  Speaker 1: But first, I had to check into the hotel. My
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  Speaker 1: guide promised to meet me in the hotel lobby at noon.
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  Speaker 1: I had a few hours, so I lugged my suitcase
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  Speaker 1: up to my room and showered. I relaxed in the
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  Speaker 1: room for a bit, before heading out to find my guide.
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  Speaker 1: I wished I'd never hired him. Well, I finally found
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  Speaker 1: him I found him in the hotel bar. He was
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  Speaker 1: well into a bottle of whiskey when I showed up.
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  Speaker 1: He recognised me and slurred out. Dean Livingston, I presume.
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  Speaker 1: I now knew why he'd insisted on receiving a portion
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  Speaker 1: of his pay up front. His face was flushed red,
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  Speaker 1: and he insisted he was fine to take me out
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  Speaker 1: into the Gobi Desert. I thought at first he might
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  Speaker 1: be a high-functioning alcoholic, and he'd be able to do
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  Speaker 1: his job in this state. but then he tried to
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  Speaker 1: get up and fell off the barstool. I decided I'd
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  Speaker 1: had enough of him and I'd have to explore on
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  Speaker 1: my own. It wasn't the smartest idea I'd had in
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  Speaker 1: my life, but I tried to counterbalance the stupidity by preparing.
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  Speaker 1: I'd already brought clothes suitable for the desert sun and sunscreen.
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  Speaker 1: I stocked up on water too. I had my sat
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  Speaker 1: phone with me in case of emergencies as well. I
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  Speaker 1: bought a map and a compass at the store across
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  Speaker 1: the street, and checked to make sure the map was
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  Speaker 1: up to date and the compass was in working order.
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  Speaker 1: It took me a few hours to round up all
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  Speaker 1: the supplies, and now I was set to begin planning
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  Speaker 1: the logistics of my trip. Logically, I planned my route
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  Speaker 1: that would take me to lesser travelled parts of the
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  Speaker 1: desert to increase my chances of seeing evidence of the cryptid.
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  Speaker 1: I'd go on a horseshoe path that would bring me
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  Speaker 1: back to the city, It would be a day trip,
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  Speaker 1: and I'd be back before sundown. I was prepared for
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  Speaker 1: almost anything the desert could throw at me. With all
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  Speaker 1: my work and planning out of the way, I decided
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  Speaker 1: to get a good night's sleep before attempting the five-mile hike.
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  Speaker 1: On the way up to my room, I passed by
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  Speaker 1: my desert guide being thrown out of the hotel bar.
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  Speaker 1: Good riddance. Luckily, I woke up the next morning feeling
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  Speaker 1: refreshed and free of jet lag. I was ready for
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  Speaker 1: my trip. I loaded all of my stuff and set
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  Speaker 1: out on my journey. I felt foolish walking off on
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  Speaker 1: my own into the desert, but my desire to see
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  Speaker 1: something that only a few rare, extremely privileged people have
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  Speaker 1: seen drove me forward. I was going to see the
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  Speaker 1: Mongolian death worm if it was the last thing I
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  Speaker 1: ever did. That, boys and girls, is what you would
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  Speaker 1: call irony, or at least dramatic foreshadowing. Ordinarily, I'd be
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  Speaker 1: hesitant to go out in the desert like this, but
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  Speaker 1: I was oddly invigorated. The first few hours of my
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  Speaker 1: trip were fairly uneventful. I passed by a few people
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  Speaker 1: heading back into the city. They gave me odd looks,
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  Speaker 1: and I could tell they were wondering why I wasn't
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  Speaker 1: with a tour guide like they were. I'm sure my
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  Speaker 1: guide was passed out in an alley somewhere, and I
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  Speaker 1: had no intention of giving him a second chance. The
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  Speaker 1: sun wasn't that bad with my hat and sunscreen on.
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  Speaker 1: Of course, I didn't know that the Gobi Desert hit
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  Speaker 1: its peak temperature in the early afternoon. Walking through the desert,
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  Speaker 1: I'd check my compass every few minutes to make sure
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  Speaker 1: I was heading along the path that I'd set for myself.
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  Speaker 1: It's easier than you think to get completely lost. As
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  Speaker 1: soon as you get far enough out, there are no
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  Speaker 1: real defining landmarks that you can use to guide yourself back.
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  Speaker 1: By sticking southbound, I'd be able to return back to
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  Speaker 1: the city just by going north. My path was set
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  Speaker 1: to keep the city within my sight, just in case.
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  Speaker 1: I glanced back and saw the top of the buildings
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  Speaker 1: peeking out over the horizon. I was in constant awareness
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  Speaker 1: of my surroundings. I was always looking around, hoping to
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  Speaker 1: catch sight of the legendary cryptid. I knew it was
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  Speaker 1: a foolish dream. but this was just an exploration, a foray.
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  Speaker 1: I had a more detailed plan for the next time
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  Speaker 1: I ventured out into the Gobi Desert. I just wanted
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  Speaker 1: to acclimate myself so I could take a more daring
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  Speaker 1: route the next time. So I'm still not completely sure
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  Speaker 1: what I saw out there. I was looking at a
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  Speaker 1: ridge of the desert when a minute motion caught my eye.
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  Speaker 1: It was hardly anything, but it looked like sand falling,
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  Speaker 1: or at least shifting. I would have attributed it to
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  Speaker 1: the wind, but the way it shifted was odd. It
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  Speaker 1: wasn't like sand falling in a cascade. It was more
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  Speaker 1: like something was displacing the sand with an undulating motion.
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  Speaker 1: I rubbed my eyes, but the image stayed with me.
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  Speaker 1: Did I see what I thought I saw? Was I
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  Speaker 1: seeing a large creature slithering, burrowing under the Pushed onward
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  Speaker 1: by my encounter, I began to run towards the motion.
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  Speaker 1: This was what I was looking for, what I wanted
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  Speaker 1: to see. My backpack banged against my lower back, and
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  Speaker 1: the straps dug into my shoulders. The compass around my
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  Speaker 1: neck swung pendulously back and forth. I kept my eyes
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  Speaker 1: on the movement ahead of me, afraid that the second
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  Speaker 1: I moved my eyes from it, it would disappear. I
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  Speaker 1: ran for a couple of minutes, drawing closer with every step.
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  Speaker 1: Was this the legendary cryptid? I was a little way
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  Speaker 1: away when the shifting sand stopped completely. I stopped dead
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  Speaker 1: in my tracks. I wanted to get closer, but the
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  Speaker 1: mental image of walking forward and falling into a gaping
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  Speaker 1: Sarlacc-esque maw dissuaded me. I didn't want to disturb whatever
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  Speaker 1: was beneath the sands, especially something as reportedly toxic as
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  Speaker 1: the Gobi Desert Death Worm. I was paralysed with uncertainty
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  Speaker 1: for a few minutes. As I waited and weighed my options,
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  Speaker 1: a horrible realisation began to dawn on me. What direction
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  Speaker 1: was I heading when I ran after this thing? After
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  Speaker 1: this realisation, I whirled around. and realised I could no
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  Speaker 1: longer see the buildings behind me. I'd wandered off the path.
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  Speaker 1: I looked down at the footprints I'd left behind. Lady
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  Speaker 1: Luck was on my side. I could see them. A
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  Speaker 1: desert breeze hadn't eradicated them yet. I spun around, trying
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  Speaker 1: to find any identifying landmarks, but the desert was barren.
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  Speaker 1: I could use the compass to backtrack to the city.
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  Speaker 1: I went to look at my compass though, and my
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  Speaker 1: stomach sank. Magnetic fields. There had to be some magnetic
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  Speaker 1: disruption nearby. The compass needle was spinning like I was
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  Speaker 1: standing on a giant magnet. I moved around, hoping I'd
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  Speaker 1: get out of the range of the magnetic field and
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  Speaker 1: orient myself. No matter how I moved, I was stuck.
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  Speaker 1: As I spun around, growing increasingly desperate. Something caught my eye.
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  Speaker 1: It was like a shining light. It flickered off in
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  Speaker 1: the distance, kind of like a strobe light. Was someone
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  Speaker 1: signalling me? God had given me two choices. The sun
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  Speaker 1: was beating down on me now. I could try and
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  Speaker 1: follow my footprints back to the city, or I could
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  Speaker 1: go to whoever was flashing that light at me. I
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  Speaker 1: knew that if I tried to retrace my path, I'd
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  Speaker 1: eventually lose the trail because of the desert winds. I
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  Speaker 1: also knew that I had no idea who was signalling
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  Speaker 1: to me. I could walk right into an abduction, or worse.
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  Speaker 1: I decided to investigate whoever was calling out to me
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  Speaker 1: with the light. I began walking. Once I determined that
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  Speaker 1: the person was using a mirror or reflective surface in
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  Speaker 1: the sunlight to create that effect, I felt comforted. There
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  Speaker 1: had to be someone there to create that lighting effect.
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  Speaker 1: I refilled my canteen using the built-in camel pack in
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  Speaker 1: my backpack as I walked towards the flickering light. I
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  Speaker 1: looked down at my compass every now and then. It
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  Speaker 1: continued to mock me with its dancing needle. The sun
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  Speaker 1: continued its assault on the landscape, and I knew that
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  Speaker 1: at the end I was going to have hellacious sunburn
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  Speaker 1: on my exposed skin. I continued walking towards the signalling.
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  Speaker 1: I was drawing closer to that signalling light. I was
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  Speaker 1: now about a mile away. It seemed like the closer
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  Speaker 1: I got to the light, the more urgent its flashing became.
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  Speaker 1: Whoever was shifting the mirror in the sunlight was working
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  Speaker 1: as hard as they could to keep the light flashing
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  Speaker 1: and guide me to them. I could only hope that
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  Speaker 1: I was about to stumble upon a tour or an encampment.
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  Speaker 1: I needed to find someone who could take me back
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  Speaker 1: to the city, or at least point me in the
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  Speaker 1: right direction. Now I was so close to the person
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  Speaker 1: with the signalling mirror that I began to run. I
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  Speaker 1: was desperate to find someone else who could help me.
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  Speaker 1: They were just on the sand ridge above me. I
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  Speaker 1: was worried it would evaporate like the undulating sand had
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  Speaker 1: if I didn't reach it in time. It didn't go anywhere.
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  Speaker 1: It was strobing the light across the desert. I finally
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  Speaker 1: reached the source of the flashing, and I fell to
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  Speaker 1: my knees. I cried out in frustration and despair. The
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  Speaker 1: small pocket mirror continued to bounce sunlight off and signal
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  Speaker 1: to no one in particular. Good God, I was now
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  Speaker 1: even further off the trail, The compass was still spinning madly,
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  Speaker 1: and I realised that I'd left my sat phone in
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  Speaker 1: the hotel. My hope of following my footprints home was
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  Speaker 1: thoroughly dashed. By now, the wind had probably completely obliterated
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  Speaker 1: my footprints. They'd be buffeted over by the blowing winds
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  Speaker 1: and shifting sands. It would be as though I'd never
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  Speaker 1: left them, like I never existed. I could wander through
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  Speaker 1: the desert and hope to find someone, but that would
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  Speaker 1: only use up valuable energy. It was better to wait
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  Speaker 1: and survey the land. There was no one up on
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  Speaker 1: the ridge. It was just the mirror and I. I'd
• 14:29
  Speaker 1: never felt so alone in my life. I was in
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  Speaker 1: the desert, with no one for miles around. To be honest,
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  Speaker 1: I wasn't completely alone. I stood on the ridge and
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  Speaker 1: scanned the horizon, hoping to see the outline of buildings
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  Speaker 1: or at least a road. It was getting cooler and
• 14:51
  Speaker 1: the sun was beginning to set. It was when I
• 14:54
  Speaker 1: sat down hard on the surrounding sand in an expression
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  Speaker 1: of defeat that I noticed it. It was peeking out
• 15:02
  Speaker 1: from beneath the sand like an opal egg. I brushed
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  Speaker 1: at the dust and revealed the skull that the sand
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  Speaker 1: had concealed. the blowing sand had polished the skull into
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  Speaker 1: a smooth surface and buried it deep within its sandy bowels.
• 15:22
  Speaker 1: Ordinary people might have shrieked, but I was desensitised to
• 15:26
  Speaker 1: skeletons after my trip to the Sedlak ossuary. The fact
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  Speaker 1: that I didn't scream didn't mean I wasn't horrified. Here
• 15:36
  Speaker 1: lied the remains of someone who may have been in
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  Speaker 1: the very same position as me. The dark realisation insinuated
• 15:43
  Speaker 1: itself into my mind. I was going to join this
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  Speaker 1: skeleton if I didn't get help. The compass was no
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  Speaker 1: use and the sunscreen was now completely useless. The hat
• 15:57
  Speaker 1: would help me retain some heat but not enough to
• 16:00
  Speaker 1: keep me on this mortal coil to use poetic phrasing.
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  Speaker 1: Death is such an odd concept especially to the young.
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  Speaker 1: We think of death like it were a concept an
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  Speaker 1: intangible thing. Death is something that happens to other people.
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  Speaker 1: Death comes to the old, to the infirm, to the unfortunate,
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  Speaker 1: but not to us. Confronting it is surreal. I'm faced
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  Speaker 1: with it now. I have water and enough rations to
• 16:33
  Speaker 1: last a couple of days here, but the sun's setting
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  Speaker 1: and it's starting to get cold. It's going to get
• 16:41
  Speaker 1: so cold that my body just shuts down. I kept
• 16:46
  Speaker 1: looking out over the land, like I was going to
• 16:49
  Speaker 1: see someone patrolling the desert at night. I don't know
• 16:53
  Speaker 1: if what I'm seeing is a mirage or not. It's
• 16:56
  Speaker 1: out on the edge of the horizon. It's the same
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  Speaker 1: shifting sands pattern that I'd seen earlier. My eyes have
• 17:05
  Speaker 1: adjusted to the dark, but my body is not adjusting
• 17:09
  Speaker 1: to the cold. It won't and can't acclimate. I focus
• 17:15
  Speaker 1: on anything to keep the thoughts of freezing out here
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  Speaker 1: at bay. To keep my mind away from my shivering
• 17:22
  Speaker 1: body and foggy breath. I focus on that mirage. At least,
• 17:29
  Speaker 1: what I hope is a mirage. The sand seems to
• 17:33
  Speaker 1: be shifting in my direction. It seems like it's moving
• 17:37
  Speaker 1: towards me. Everything feels so odd now. It's an odd
• 17:43
  Speaker 1: feeling to realise you're going to freeze to death in
• 17:46
  Speaker 1: a desert. It feels counterintuitive. I think I'm writing this
• 17:53
  Speaker 1: just so people know what I went through in my
• 17:55
  Speaker 1: final moments. I don't want them imagining me as some coward.
• 18:02
  Speaker 1: I don't want people who find this to use it
• 18:04
  Speaker 1: as an excuse to stay away from experiencing new things.
• 18:08
  Speaker 1: The world can be a beautiful place. I'll face this
• 18:13
  Speaker 1: with a stiff upper lip. I'm being brave even though
• 18:17
  Speaker 1: I don't want to be brave right now. I hope
• 18:21
  Speaker 1: that if this gets back to my family and friends,
• 18:24
  Speaker 1: that they'll know I was brave to the very end.
• 18:28
  Speaker 1: The undulating sand mirage is getting closer, and I can
• 18:33
  Speaker 1: swear I see something crimson. slithering around beneath the sand. Later, H.M.
• 18:43
  Speaker 1: Stanley stood on the ridge and shielded his eyes from
• 18:46
  Speaker 1: the sand. The skeletal form was splayed out on the
• 18:49
  Speaker 1: sand before him. Its open jaw looked like something between
• 18:54
  Speaker 1: a scream and a laugh. The bones had been stripped
• 18:58
  Speaker 1: of meat by animals. He nudged the corroded compass with
• 19:03
  Speaker 1: the toe of his boot. He was on a drive
• 19:07
  Speaker 1: when a flashing light called his attention to one of
• 19:09
  Speaker 1: the many surrounding ridges. A few sheets of paper were
• 19:13
  Speaker 1: inside a raggedy-looking backpack. He picked them up and looked
• 19:18
  Speaker 1: over them. As he read, something off in the distance
• 19:23
  Speaker 1: shifted beneath the sands. He muttered, Dean Livingston, huh? He
• 19:31
  Speaker 1: would try to find a way to get his final
• 19:33
  Speaker 1: words home. Unbeknownst to H.M. Stanley, the thing in the
• 19:40
  Speaker 1: distance began to move towards him. Thank you for listening
• 19:48
  Speaker 1: to tonight's story. If you enjoyed it and would like
• 19:52
  Speaker 1: to hear more horror narrations, you can follow Macabre Horror
• 19:55
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• 20:14
  Speaker 1: Until next time, keep the lights low and the doors locked.