# "Growing Up, I Thought the Man in the Crawl Space Was My Dad’s Friend. He Wasn’t" Creepypasta

An episode of [CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio](https://invisiblenetwork.ai/podcast/1492008134), 22 Feb 2025, 25 min.

Audio: https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/64472048/growing_up_i_thought_the_man_in_the_crawl_space_was_my_dad_s_friend_he_wasn_t_creepypasta.mp3

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Frequent-Cat: / growing_up_i_thought_the_man_in_the_crawl_... Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO- SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd... iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast... SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS- ►"Good Places to Start"- • "I wasn't careful enough on the deep ... ►"Personal Favourites"- • "I sold my soul for a used dishwasher... ►"Written by me"- • "I've been Blind my Whole Life" Creep... ►"Long Stories"- • Long Stories FOLLOW ME ON- ►Twitter: / creeps_mcpasta ►Instagram: / creepsmcpasta ►Twitch: / creepsmcpasta ►Facebook: / creepsmcpasta CREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪ ►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪ ►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪ ►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪ This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only

## Transcript

[0:02] Speaker 1: I grew up in a small, single story house on
[0:04] Speaker 1: the outskirts of town. Our house was a mudge, just
[0:09] Speaker 1: the squat little box of peeling white paint, with a
[0:12] Speaker 1: porch that sag slightly in the middle. I always thought
[0:15] Speaker 1: it looked like it was tired of holding itself up.
[0:19] Speaker 1: I didn't care, though. To me, it was home. But
[0:26] Speaker 1: what I remember most about that house wasn't the porch,
[0:29] Speaker 1: or the yard or the tiny bedroom I shared with
[0:32] Speaker 1: my younger brother. It was the crawl space. It stretched
[0:39] Speaker 1: under the entire house, a hollow, black cavity barely two
[0:44] Speaker 1: feet high, covered by warped wooden slats nailed haphazardly across
[0:48] Speaker 1: the entrance. My dad always told me to stay away
[0:52] Speaker 1: from it, said it was full of spiders and mold,
[0:55] Speaker 1: sharp bits of rusted metal waiting to slice my hands
[0:58] Speaker 1: open if I reached. My mom wanted me too, though
[1:03] Speaker 1: she was less dramatic about it, more exasperated than afraid.
[1:10] Speaker 1: But I was a curious kid. I'd kneel by the slats,
[1:15] Speaker 1: peering through the gaps, trying to see what was inside.
[1:20] Speaker 1: Most of the time it was just dirt or darkness. Sometimes,
[1:25] Speaker 1: if the angle was just right, I catch a glimpse
[1:28] Speaker 1: of the wooden beams holding up the house, or maybe
[1:31] Speaker 1: a flash of something skittering out of sight. I never
[1:35] Speaker 1: got too close, never reached inside, until one summer afternoon
[1:43] Speaker 1: when I heard someone whisper my name. I was playing
[1:49] Speaker 1: in the backyard alone, kicking a plastic soccer ball around
[1:54] Speaker 1: when I heard it, faint at first, a dry voice
[1:58] Speaker 1: slipping out from beneath the house, like a draft. When
[2:02] Speaker 1: the voice slipped out from beneath the porch, it was
[2:05] Speaker 1: so soft I almost didn't hear it over the sound
[2:08] Speaker 1: of the ball bouncing. I stopped, turned toward the crawl space,
[2:15] Speaker 1: nothing but darkness, then again, slightly louder. Come here for
[2:23] Speaker 1: a second. Any adult would have ran inside and lured
[2:28] Speaker 1: to the police or done anything. But I was seven,
[2:33] Speaker 1: maybe eight, and I that stupid childlike fearlessness that makes
[2:38] Speaker 1: kids think nothing bad can happen to them. So instead
[2:42] Speaker 1: of being scared, I was just curious. I dropped my
[2:48] Speaker 1: soccer ball and walked toward the crawled space, dropping to
[2:52] Speaker 1: my knees to press my face to the gaps in
[2:54] Speaker 1: the wooden slats. Her face stared back at me. I
[3:01] Speaker 1: just stared back. The man didn't blink. His eyes were wide,
[3:08] Speaker 1: locked onto mine, sunken deep into a skull, like he
[3:11] Speaker 1: hadn't slept in a long time. His skin was sallow
[3:16] Speaker 1: and streaked with dirt, and his hair, what little of
[3:20] Speaker 1: it I could see, was long and stringy, clinging to
[3:23] Speaker 1: his face in limp, greasy strands. When he spoke again,
[3:29] Speaker 1: his voice was almost kind. Didn't mean to scare you, buddy,
[3:36] Speaker 1: I still didn't answer. I'm an old friend of your dad's,
[3:41] Speaker 1: he said, his lips curling. Really, I finally managed. He
[3:48] Speaker 1: shifted slightly, just enough that I could see more of him,
[3:53] Speaker 1: boney shoulders, his skin a mess of wounds. He looked filthy,
[3:58] Speaker 1: like he'd been rolling into But his voice was calm, friendly,
[4:03] Speaker 1: the way adults talk to kids when they want them
[4:06] Speaker 1: to feel safe. Yeah, who used to be real close
[4:11] Speaker 1: to the family. But it's been a while since we talked.
[4:16] Speaker 1: He probably wouldn't remember me, he nodded. That made sense.
[4:22] Speaker 1: Adults forgot things all the time. Hey, do me a favor,
[4:28] Speaker 1: he added, lowering his voice. Don't tell him I'm here yet.
[4:33] Speaker 1: Let's keep it a secret for now, just between us.
[4:38] Speaker 1: Your dad might not understand at that age, I thought,
[4:44] Speaker 1: secrets were fun. I don't know why I trusted him.
[4:50] Speaker 1: Maybe it was the way he spoke, the softness in
[4:53] Speaker 1: his voice. Maybe it was because I wanted it to
[4:56] Speaker 1: be true, because of the idea of finally having a
[4:59] Speaker 1: secret of my own to keep from my parents made
[5:02] Speaker 1: it seem grand special. I didn't tell my parents, and
[5:08] Speaker 1: I kept visiting the crawl space. We just talked. I'd
[5:15] Speaker 1: go outside and kneel by the crawl space, whispering through
[5:18] Speaker 1: the gaps in the wooden slats while the man lay
[5:21] Speaker 1: on the dirt on the other side. He never came out,
[5:25] Speaker 1: never reached for me, just stayed in the shadows, speaking
[5:29] Speaker 1: in that same soft, friendly tone that made me feel
[5:33] Speaker 1: like I was talking to someone I've known all my life.
[5:37] Speaker 1: I felt safe. What's your favorite thing to do? He
[5:42] Speaker 1: asked me. Once you play outside a lot, what do
[5:46] Speaker 1: you want to be when you grow up. His questions
[5:50] Speaker 1: were harmless at first, and he listened so intently, like
[5:54] Speaker 1: every little thing I said was the most important thing
[5:57] Speaker 1: he'd ever heard. I liked that, But over time the
[6:05] Speaker 1: questions started to change. Your dad still works late. Where
[6:11] Speaker 1: do you sleep in the house? Your mom locked the
[6:14] Speaker 1: doors at night The first time. He asked that I hesitated. Yeah,
[6:22] Speaker 1: I said, she locks them every night. I thought about it.
[6:29] Speaker 1: Sometimes she forgets, I admitted. He was quiet for a
[6:36] Speaker 1: long time. Really, he finally asked, she sometimes forgets. There
[6:46] Speaker 1: was something in his voice, something I didn't understand yet,
[6:50] Speaker 1: because I was just a kid. Looking back, I can
[6:56] Speaker 1: see now that they were never just questions. They were tests,
[7:01] Speaker 1: each one peeling back another layer, gauging how much I knew,
[7:05] Speaker 1: how much I was willing to tell him, how much
[7:08] Speaker 1: influence he had over me without me even realizing it,
[7:14] Speaker 1: and I'd let him do it. I had fed him
[7:17] Speaker 1: information piece by piece, unaware that I was giving him
[7:21] Speaker 1: everything he needed. Hey, Boddy, I missed you yesterday. Sorry,
[7:29] Speaker 1: I had whispered back. I went to my grandma's. Ah,
[7:34] Speaker 1: that's nice that she makes good cookies. Yeah, your little
[7:40] Speaker 1: brother go to The question was casual, effortless, like he
[7:47] Speaker 1: was just making small talk, I'd answered without thinking. I
[7:52] Speaker 1: didn't think back then of the fact that I'd never
[7:55] Speaker 1: mentioned my little brother to him. Uh huh, he always
[8:00] Speaker 1: comes with us. Of course, can't leave the little guy
[8:05] Speaker 1: behind her, I laughed, and then I heard the screen
[8:11] Speaker 1: door creak open. Hey, what are you doing. I flinched,
[8:18] Speaker 1: jerking back from the crawl space so fast that I
[8:21] Speaker 1: scraped my knee against the dirt. My little brother was
[8:25] Speaker 1: standing on the porch watching me with wide, suspicious eyes,
[8:30] Speaker 1: his small hands gripping the wooden railing, like he had
[8:33] Speaker 1: caught me doing something I wasn't supposed to. I panicked nothing,
[8:40] Speaker 1: I said, quickly, scrambling to my feet. I was just
[8:44] Speaker 1: looking for something. His face twisted into something skeptical, his
[8:50] Speaker 1: little brows knitting together as he took a step forward,
[8:54] Speaker 1: craning his neck to look at the crawl space entrance,
[8:58] Speaker 1: looking for what. The man was silent now. I could
[9:04] Speaker 1: feel him waiting just beyond the slats, watching, listening. I
[9:11] Speaker 1: had to think fast, my ball, I said, brushing dirt
[9:17] Speaker 1: off my shorts and trying to sound as normal as possible.
[9:21] Speaker 1: I think it rolled under there. My brother's gaze flicked
[9:26] Speaker 1: back to me. Okay, I want to go play in
[9:30] Speaker 1: the treehouse, I stumbled, and just like that, he forgot
[9:37] Speaker 1: all about it. I wish he never believed me. The
[9:45] Speaker 1: first time the man in the crawl space asked me
[9:47] Speaker 1: for something, I almost didn't even register it as a request. Hey, buddy,
[9:55] Speaker 1: can you do me a favor. He was an easy question.
[10:01] Speaker 1: We were just two old friends at this point, trading secrets.
[10:05] Speaker 1: I didn't even hesitate before nodding before giving him this simple,
[10:09] Speaker 1: automatic sure, because why wouldn't I. He had never asked
[10:16] Speaker 1: for anything before, He had never even implied that he
[10:19] Speaker 1: wanted something from me beyond my company. Your dad keeps
[10:24] Speaker 1: a spare key to the shed, right. I remember feeling
[10:29] Speaker 1: the slightest pang of discomfort then, But he was vague, unformed,
[10:34] Speaker 1: like the first tremor of a storm coming, a flicker
[10:38] Speaker 1: of something wrong just beneath the surface that my young
[10:41] Speaker 1: mind didn't yet know how to identify. I hesitated, but
[10:47] Speaker 1: the response came anyway, Yeah, you know where he hides it,
[10:56] Speaker 1: of course I did. It was under the porch, tucked
[10:59] Speaker 1: behind a row of old cinder blocks near the back steps.
[11:03] Speaker 1: My dad had told me once in case he ever
[11:05] Speaker 1: needed me to get it for him, and I'd filed
[11:08] Speaker 1: the information away, never thinking it would be useful for
[11:12] Speaker 1: anything else. Yeah, I said, think you could grab it
[11:19] Speaker 1: for me. That's when I finally hesitated for real. There
[11:25] Speaker 1: was a shift, a barely perceptible change in the air
[11:29] Speaker 1: between us, A tiny crack and the illusion that I
[11:33] Speaker 1: had never noticed before. I didn't understand why I felt wrong,
[11:38] Speaker 1: but it did, and for the first time since I'd
[11:41] Speaker 1: started talking to him, I found myself wanting to leave.
[11:48] Speaker 1: Why He laughed, as if the answer was obvious. Ah,
[11:56] Speaker 1: it's stupid, he said, dismissing the whole thing as a joke,
[12:01] Speaker 1: as if I was the silly one for taking it seriously.
[12:05] Speaker 1: I left something in there a long time ago, something
[12:08] Speaker 1: I meant to grab, A little keepsake, you know. That
[12:14] Speaker 1: made sense to me. All the adults had little things
[12:17] Speaker 1: they didn't need but couldn't bring themselves to throw away.
[12:22] Speaker 1: Even marm had shoe boxes full of old birthday cards
[12:24] Speaker 1: she never looked at. And my dad had a drawer
[12:27] Speaker 1: full of broken watches he always swore he was going
[12:30] Speaker 1: to fix. And maybe you noticed. Maybe he sensed that
[12:35] Speaker 1: my willingness was starting to crack, because after a moment
[12:40] Speaker 1: of silence, he gave me reassurance. It's all right, buddy,
[12:47] Speaker 1: he said, you don't have to do it, and that
[12:54] Speaker 1: was the end of it until the next time. But
[13:01] Speaker 1: he didn't ask about the shed key. Hey. His voice
[13:08] Speaker 1: was lower that day, quieter, like he didn't want any
[13:12] Speaker 1: one else to hear, even though we were alone in
[13:16] Speaker 1: the back yard, just as we always were. What could
[13:22] Speaker 1: you leave the back door unlocked for me? To night?
[13:27] Speaker 1: My stomach twists thinking back to it. Why I want
[13:33] Speaker 1: to leave you a little present? Trust me, I really
[13:40] Speaker 1: liked presents, and my parents hadn't gotten me a present
[13:43] Speaker 1: since my birthday a couple of months back. And then,
[13:48] Speaker 1: before I could decide what to do, dinner's ready. I
[13:53] Speaker 1: turned toward the house, the sounds snapping me out of
[13:57] Speaker 1: whatever fog I'd been slipping into, and when I looked back,
[14:02] Speaker 1: he was gone. I unlocked the back door that night.
[14:08] Speaker 1: I don't know if it was because I started trusting
[14:11] Speaker 1: the man too much, or if I wanted a present
[14:13] Speaker 1: that badly, or maybe I was just too caught up
[14:17] Speaker 1: in the normal rhythm of family life to think about
[14:20] Speaker 1: anything beyond the present moment. Either way, it didn't matter,
[14:26] Speaker 1: because the moment came and went, and by the time
[14:29] Speaker 1: we sat down for dinner, the whole thing was already
[14:33] Speaker 1: slipping from my mind, already losing its weight. And then
[14:39] Speaker 1: without thinking I said it, I'd talk to your friend
[14:46] Speaker 1: to day. I didn't even notice the reaction I was
[14:52] Speaker 1: focused on my plate, barely paying attention, my fork spearing
[14:56] Speaker 1: a piece of overcooked chicken as I chewed slowly, distantly.
[15:02] Speaker 1: But then the silence settled and I felt it. Dad's
[15:09] Speaker 1: hand frozen mid cut, his knuckles white around the handle
[15:13] Speaker 1: of his knife. Mom unmoving at the stove, her back
[15:18] Speaker 1: to me, her posture stiff. She looked like her entire
[15:22] Speaker 1: body had gone cold. All at once, What friend? Dad's
[15:30] Speaker 1: voice was slow, careful, like he already knew the answer
[15:35] Speaker 1: but was trying to delay it. I blinked at him,
[15:40] Speaker 1: confused by the sudden change in the atmosphere. He your friend.
[15:46] Speaker 1: In the cold space, the words landed. Mom dropped the
[15:54] Speaker 1: pan she had been holding, the middle, clattering against the
[15:57] Speaker 1: stove with a loud, jarring crash. Dad's face went white.
[16:04] Speaker 1: For a long time, no one moved, Then all at once,
[16:10] Speaker 1: Dad pushed back from the table, standing so fast his
[16:13] Speaker 1: chair scraped against the floor with a shriek of wood
[16:16] Speaker 1: and tile. Without a word, he turned, walked to the
[16:21] Speaker 1: front door, and stormed outside. My father was already in
[16:26] Speaker 1: motion before I could fully register what was happening, his
[16:30] Speaker 1: movement sharp and frantic as he ripped at the wooden
[16:33] Speaker 1: slats covering the crawl space entrance, his fingers prying at
[16:38] Speaker 1: the brittle planks with a kind of strength I had
[16:40] Speaker 1: never seen before. The nail shrieked as they were wrenched loose,
[16:46] Speaker 1: the old wood splintering beneath the force of his grip.
[16:50] Speaker 1: Dad My voice came out small, but he didn't answer.
[16:56] Speaker 1: He was breathing too hard, too fast, his hands shaking
[17:01] Speaker 1: as he pulled away the last of the boards and
[17:03] Speaker 1: tossed them aside. The entrance to the crawl space yawned
[17:08] Speaker 1: open before us, a gaping black mouth cut into the earth.
[17:14] Speaker 1: Dad grabbed the flashlight from his belt, flicked it on,
[17:17] Speaker 1: and shine the beam inside. For a moment, I expected
[17:23] Speaker 1: to see him. I expected the pale, thin man from
[17:27] Speaker 1: beneath our house to be crouched in the dirt, his
[17:30] Speaker 1: sunken eyes reflecting the beam of light as he stared.
[17:35] Speaker 1: But there was nothing, just emptiness. The flashlight beam swept
[17:44] Speaker 1: across the crawl space, illuminating nothing but bare dirt and
[17:48] Speaker 1: cobwebt wooden beams. The air that wafted out smelt stale
[17:52] Speaker 1: and sour, thick with the scent of damp rot and
[17:56] Speaker 1: things that had been left to decay in the dark
[17:58] Speaker 1: for too long though, No footprints in the dirt, no
[18:03] Speaker 1: sign that anyone had ever been inside, no mattress, no
[18:07] Speaker 1: discarded clothes, no remnants of a person who might have
[18:11] Speaker 1: been living there. Maybe I'd made up the entire thing
[18:16] Speaker 1: in my head, a game of pretend that it spiraled
[18:19] Speaker 1: out of control. But then the flashlight beam passed over
[18:25] Speaker 1: something small and familiar, something that shouldn't have been there.
[18:32] Speaker 1: A shoe, tiny red, half covered in dirt. I felt
[18:41] Speaker 1: a jolt of recognition before my mind fully processed what
[18:45] Speaker 1: I was looking at. My stomach twisted violently, and the
[18:50] Speaker 1: air seemed to thin around me, the world tilting sideways
[18:54] Speaker 1: as I stared at it. Because I knew that shoe
[18:59] Speaker 1: didn't belong to me. It belonged to my little brother.
[19:06] Speaker 1: What the hell? My dad's voice was hoarse, cracking at
[19:11] Speaker 1: the edges as he stepped closer, his flashlight trained on
[19:15] Speaker 1: the single out of place objects sitting in the dirt,
[19:19] Speaker 1: his hands clenched at his sides, his whole body rigid
[19:22] Speaker 1: with tension. He turned toward me, his face pale. Where
[19:29] Speaker 1: is your brother? The words barely had time to register
[19:35] Speaker 1: before my mother's voice rang out from behind us. Who
[19:39] Speaker 1: are you talking about? I turned and saw us standing
[19:43] Speaker 1: in the doorway, looking at us with an expression of deep,
[19:47] Speaker 1: unsettled confusion. Her brows furrowed as she tugging the scene
[19:51] Speaker 1: before her. Who was in the crawl space? She asked again,
[19:58] Speaker 1: and then the screaming started. I don't remember running inside.
[20:07] Speaker 1: I don't remember how I got from the front yard
[20:09] Speaker 1: to the hallway, how my legs carried me forward so
[20:12] Speaker 1: fast that my surroundings blurred, the walls stretching long and thin,
[20:18] Speaker 1: like something from a fever dream. I don't remember how
[20:21] Speaker 1: I ended up right behind my father, or how my
[20:24] Speaker 1: mother's voice, shouting something I couldn't understand, faded into a
[20:29] Speaker 1: dull hum. At the edges of my mind, I only
[20:34] Speaker 1: remember the screaming. It was raw and high and jagged,
[20:43] Speaker 1: something too broken to come from a person, something that
[20:46] Speaker 1: didn't sound human at all, and it was coming from
[20:52] Speaker 1: my brother's room. My father hit the door at full speed,
[20:57] Speaker 1: his shoulder slamming into it so hard that it must
[21:00] Speaker 1: have hurt. The wood buckled under his weight, and for
[21:05] Speaker 1: a moment it didn't budge, but then it gave way.
[21:09] Speaker 1: He stumbled forward nearly falling as he caught himself. And
[21:15] Speaker 1: then I saw the blood. It was everywhere, splattered across
[21:23] Speaker 1: the floor, painted up the walls, in thick visceral streaks,
[21:29] Speaker 1: so much of it, more than I thought a person
[21:31] Speaker 1: could even have inside them. He was still wet, still warm,
[21:37] Speaker 1: still spreading in slow creeping rivers, beneath the flickering light
[21:42] Speaker 1: of the ceiling van and in the center of it
[21:45] Speaker 1: all my brother, or what was left of him. I
[21:54] Speaker 1: don't think I screamed. I don't think I made any
[21:58] Speaker 1: noise at all, because something inside me broke, something deep
[22:04] Speaker 1: and dark and all consuming. And as I stood there,
[22:10] Speaker 1: staring at the thing and the floor that had once
[22:12] Speaker 1: been my little brother, the thought rose up in me,
[22:17] Speaker 1: slow and suffocating, curling around my throat like smoke. I
[22:24] Speaker 1: did this. I don't know when my mother pushed past me,
[22:30] Speaker 1: or when a voice cracked into a sound i'd never
[22:33] Speaker 1: heard before, something so shattered and animalistic that it didn't
[22:38] Speaker 1: even sound like words. I don't know if they tried
[22:41] Speaker 1: to shield me from the sight, if they pulled me
[22:44] Speaker 1: back or turned me away. I don't know if I
[22:47] Speaker 1: collapsed or ran or simply stood there as the room
[22:50] Speaker 1: spun and folded inward around me, because in that moment,
[22:56] Speaker 1: all I could hear was his voice, Where do you
[23:03] Speaker 1: sleep in the house? Who mum locked the doors at night?
[23:07] Speaker 1: She forgets sometimes? Really, the realization came slowly. It wasn't
[23:17] Speaker 1: like a sudden impact, not an explosion of clarity. It
[23:21] Speaker 1: was something worse, something creeping, something insidious, something that had
[23:27] Speaker 1: been building for weeks, for months, for however long it
[23:30] Speaker 1: had been listening to me. I had told him everything,
[23:35] Speaker 1: I'd given him the key to my family. I don't
[23:41] Speaker 1: know what happened after that. I don't know who called
[23:44] Speaker 1: the police, or how long it took them to arrive,
[23:48] Speaker 1: or how many times I was asked the same questions
[23:51] Speaker 1: over and over and over again, until my mouth was
[23:55] Speaker 1: dry and my voice cracked from the effort of trying
[23:58] Speaker 1: to answer. I don't know if I ever answered at all,
[24:03] Speaker 1: because how do you begin to explain something like that.
[24:07] Speaker 1: I don't remember the funeral. I don't remember the weeks
[24:10] Speaker 1: that followed, or the way my parents stopped talking to
[24:13] Speaker 1: each other, or the way my mother wouldn't even look
[24:16] Speaker 1: at me anymore. I don't remember how I got from
[24:19] Speaker 1: that house to a different one, or how much time
[24:22] Speaker 1: had passed before my father finally packed up all our
[24:25] Speaker 1: things and moved us away. But I remember the guilt

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