Galactic Horrors

Two winters ago, something escaped from the laboratory at a secret army research station deep in the northern pines. The scientists vanished the same night. Officially, they are away on fieldwork, and the army now fills the station with punished men.

On his first night there, a storeman stripped of his stripes for selling his own soldiers' boots is cut from elbow to wrist by something he cannot see. Then the lamplight shows him the yard. Dozens of towering, eyeless things stand among the barracks, lifting sleeping soldiers out of their bunks by one ankle and posting them through the laboratory's broken windows. Only the men they cut can see them, and only until the wound heals.

His new sight makes him useful. As a point man, he walks ahead into the forest to snare their young, and the reward is the one thing worth having here: a bunk across the yard, where the safe men sleep.

But his cut is closing, the creatures are fading from his sight, and he still doesn't know what happens to the men carried inside. The answer waits behind a padlocked door, and like everything at the station, the key has a price.

🔗 Official Links:

The only place to get daily and bonus Galactic Horrors stories with no ads or interruptions is Patreon:

📡 Join Patreon: https://patreon.com/GalacticHorrors

Galactic Horrors stories are also available as eBooks on Amazon, with new releases every week:

📚 eBooks: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0H2F5M2B3/allbooks

📖 Written by Galactic Horrors

⚠️ Content Ownership Notice

All stories, artwork, thumbnails, and animations featured on this channel are original creations of Galactic Horrors. I do not accept or feature submissions from other creators. Unauthorized reproduction, redistribution, or re-uploading of any content from this channel, in any form, is strictly prohibited and constitutes a violation of copyright. Legal action may be taken against any parties found infringing these rights.

📜 Fictional Work Disclaimer

This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. The events, characters, and organizations portrayed are entirely fictional, and any references to governmental bodies, entities, or individuals are not intended to represent reality. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real-life events or organizations is purely coincidental.

#scifi #scifihorror #creepypasta

Disclosure: This episode includes AI-generated elements.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Every time the truck stops, whoever is standing nearest its back doors begins to slow. Words drag. Faces sag. Then they fall flat and sink into the asphalt, and they keep sinking.

The cargo is a warm grey stone the size of a fist, heavy enough to bend the light around it, resting on a stack of steel plates it is slowly falling through. The man paid to haul it has one rule: never stop longer than it takes to fuel. A voice on a sealed radio picks every stop.

Along Interstate 80, people have learned to live with it. Drivers move their rigs when this one pulls in. A tow truck waits at the pumps before anyone calls. Children chalk outlines on the asphalt and take turns lying inside them.

The driver is sixty-one, fired for falling asleep at the wheel, with nobody left to miss him. Behind the voice on the radio, something knocks, slow and heavy, far below. He has heard that sound once before, lying on a farmhouse lawn in Nebraska.

🔗 Official Links:

The only place to get daily and bonus Galactic Horrors stories with no ads or interruptions is Patreon:

📡 Join Patreon: https://patreon.com/GalacticHorrors

Galactic Horrors stories are also available as eBooks on Amazon, with new releases every week:

📚 eBooks: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0H2F5M2B3/allbooks

📖 Written by Galactic Horrors

⚠️ Content Ownership Notice

All stories, artwork, thumbnails, and animations featured on this channel are original creations of Galactic Horrors. I do not accept or feature submissions from other creators. Unauthorized reproduction, redistribution, or re-uploading of any content from this channel, in any form, is strictly prohibited and constitutes a violation of copyright. Legal action may be taken against any parties found infringing these rights.

📜 Fictional Work Disclaimer

This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. The events, characters, and organizations portrayed are entirely fictional, and any references to governmental bodies, entities, or individuals are not intended to represent reality. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real-life events or organizations is purely coincidental.

#scifi #scifihorror #creepypasta

Disclosure: This episode includes AI-generated elements.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

For twenty-two years, an aging captain has fished the rings of a sea that drains endlessly into a vast hole past the horizon, where the catch grows richer the closer a boat dares to go. Each time he comes up short, the cannery that owns his trawler rivets another iron plate to her bow, and the newest one now sits at the waterline. One more short season will cost him his boat.

The only water rich enough to save him lies beyond the Barren Ring, where no bird flies and no net comes up with anything. When he was a boy, one man crossed it and came home so heavy with fish that the sea ran across his deck. The cannery rang the bell kept for a man who owes nothing and put his smiling face on every tin, and the boy pasted a hundred of those labels above his bed.

Forty-four years later, that man still waves at the harbor mouth every morning from a freshly painted boat the cannery has never let him sail. Now, with one season left, the captain takes his own crew across the Barren Ring, where no captain since has ever come back.

🔗 Official Links:

The only place to get daily and bonus Galactic Horrors stories with no ads or interruptions is Patreon:

📡 Join Patreon: https://patreon.com/GalacticHorrors

Galactic Horrors stories are also available as eBooks on Amazon, with new releases every week:

📚 eBooks: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0H2F5M2B3/allbooks

📖 Written by Galactic Horrors

⚠️ Content Ownership Notice

All stories, artwork, thumbnails, and animations featured on this channel are original creations of Galactic Horrors. I do not accept or feature submissions from other creators. Unauthorized reproduction, redistribution, or re-uploading of any content from this channel, in any form, is strictly prohibited and constitutes a violation of copyright. Legal action may be taken against any parties found infringing these rights.

📜 Fictional Work Disclaimer

This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. The events, characters, and organizations portrayed are entirely fictional, and any references to governmental bodies, entities, or individuals are not intended to represent reality. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real-life events or organizations is purely coincidental.

#scifi #scifihorror #creepypasta

Disclosure: This episode includes AI-generated elements.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

For two decades he has torn apart dead frontier colonies, and each one died of something he could dig up: a bad well, a burst dam, a hillside that came down in the dark. Every one except the farm town where half the town slid sideways across flat ground overnight and stopped as neatly as a train at a platform.

Six years later, the believers who stayed behind send for a man with a digging machine. They have a god buried under their broken town, and they want it dug out.

They drink rust scraped from its hide until their mouths turn orange. They wrap their hands in leather and keep clear of him. Their deacon wears his own severed hands on a cord. And every dusk, while the faithful watch from the banks, the outsider must kneel in the pit and lay his bare palm on the black metal. It is warm under the frozen dirt, and warmer each night. Every night afterward, the ground shivers, sooner and harder.

He blames the digging. Then his scanner shows him what lies beneath the town, and how far past the horizon it runs. The faithful asked for a digging machine. What they need is his bare hands, and they have no intention of letting him leave.

🔗 Official Links:

The only place to get daily and bonus Galactic Horrors stories with no ads or interruptions is Patreon:

📡 Join Patreon: https://patreon.com/GalacticHorrors

Galactic Horrors stories are also available as eBooks on Amazon, with new releases every week:

📚 eBooks: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0H2F5M2B3/allbooks

📖 Written by Galactic Horrors

⚠️ Content Ownership Notice

All stories, artwork, thumbnails, and animations featured on this channel are original creations of Galactic Horrors. I do not accept or feature submissions from other creators. Unauthorized reproduction, redistribution, or re-uploading of any content from this channel, in any form, is strictly prohibited and constitutes a violation of copyright. Legal action may be taken against any parties found infringing these rights.

📜 Fictional Work Disclaimer

This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. The events, characters, and organizations portrayed are entirely fictional, and any references to governmental bodies, entities, or individuals are not intended to represent reality. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real-life events or organizations is purely coincidental.

#scifi #scifihorror #creepypasta

Disclosure: This episode includes AI-generated elements.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

For eight years, a sapper sergeant has walked down into fresh bomb craters at first light and signed them closed. On the siege world of Bracken, six-ton spikes dropped from orbit cave in the tunnels of a burrowing enemy, and his signature certifies the ground has fallen. Every crater he signs is a piece of the war that is over.

Then a crater he sealed in the spring opens again. The thousand tons of stone he dropped into its tunnel are gone. The bone-hard door behind it should be cold. It is warm, and it gives under his hand. The listening bore picks up a wet, endless grinding, like something eating. In the haze over the basin, spotters see jointed legs hundreds of feet tall, perfectly still.

The army logs it as enemy activity, though nobody in his sector has seen a live one topside in over a year. He warns that the bombing must stop. Command answers with a final drop on every crater in the basin, citing his own report.

The first target is the crater he signed. Whatever lies beneath it grows stronger with every strike, and the army is about to give it everything it has.

🔗 Official Links:

The only place to get daily and bonus Galactic Horrors stories with no ads or interruptions is Patreon:

📡 Join Patreon: https://patreon.com/GalacticHorrors

Galactic Horrors stories are also available as eBooks on Amazon, with new releases every week:

📚 eBooks: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0H2F5M2B3/allbooks

📖 Written by Galactic Horrors

⚠️ Content Ownership Notice

All stories, artwork, thumbnails, and animations featured on this channel are original creations of Galactic Horrors. I do not accept or feature submissions from other creators. Unauthorized reproduction, redistribution, or re-uploading of any content from this channel, in any form, is strictly prohibited and constitutes a violation of copyright. Legal action may be taken against any parties found infringing these rights.

📜 Fictional Work Disclaimer

This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. The events, characters, and organizations portrayed are entirely fictional, and any references to governmental bodies, entities, or individuals are not intended to represent reality. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real-life events or organizations is purely coincidental.

#scifi #scifihorror #creepypasta

Disclosure: This episode includes AI-generated elements.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.