"Moniathan's Nest" (Creepypasta)

I was no sculptor heck I was no artist as a child I couldn't sketch paint color or create anything of any artistic worth and now that I'm in my mid-30s well I still can't everyone knows that about me I remember being 13 years old and watching with a jealous gaze as Miles Baker work with his carving tool what began as a grey rectangular piece of clay had transformed into a layered in spherical shape that resembled all when its nest miles his eyes Pinkston he carved with precision and intensity he worked like a child possessed every student in the class only pay half attention to their own projects every few seconds they'd look up and their eyes glistened with this sort of quiet ah no one looked at me with those eyes it was a bit aloof a little bit of a troublemaker not quite withdrawn not quite the class clown I regularly took ADHD pills and my sweet behavior was regular there was no predicting how I'd act on a day-to-day basis and when I was motivated and whom wasn't necessarily to do the right thing one inspired day I invented a series of baseball third-base coach like hand signals to communicate silently with other students in class tap your left ear swipe the forehead reach across the chest and touch your left shoulder with your right fist there were at least 10 signals the teacher went nuts and I found myself in the principal's office yet again it was a familiar place I just wanted to be like miles he had such talent so many gifts his finished sculpture was a true work of art he called it mana Athens nest and they quickly found its way into the display case by the front office in our school the piece was about 14 inches high and dozens of faces were carved into the nest with expert precision each face was unique and they were frozen expressions of surprise and terror it was almost hypnotizing to look at I thought about the name often when I have them I wondered what it meant but I was too sheepish to ask Myles for some reason I thought he'd be offended I caught myself stopping to look at the Minaya thens Nest sculpture far too often I wished I could create something like that to be as revered as Myles I wasn't that type of kid I didn't have the talent I was marked even by those who should have been above that sort of thing one day I lingered too long in the hallway to study Myles a sculpture rooted in place past the ringing of the school bell the principal turned the corner and he reached across his chest and touched his left shoulder one of the many baseball signs that had landed me in hot water merely a week before his eyes lasered in on me get to class he muttered I slink away filled with a mixture of embarrassment and anger even my own principal is mocking me and I remember thinking and that was the moment I decided to turn it around I studied more tried harder not just in school but in all areas I even stepped up my game in catechism classes Myles was also in my class at church his mere presence pushed me to be a better person I went from the kid who constantly peppered the teacher with half grand queries like did dogs go to heaven to memorizing into livering the missin Creed in front of the entire congregation even miles had been pressed smile on his face that day the invitation came shortly thereafter miles asked me if I wanted to sleep over at his house the following Saturday night he was inviting a few kids from my church and he'd have pizza and movies my quickly accepted my father though expressed his displeasure I don't want you spending time with the Baker's he firmly told me that entire family is bad news my father not a religious man launched into a laundry list of the hypocritical actions of the Baker clan his eyes burned and his voice cut with an extra edge as he rallied against the Baker patriarch the man preaches about the Word of God and touches every person he lays eyes on yet he's been abusing the bottle for thirty years everyone knows it but that piece of work will cast public shame upon anyone else who even sniffs booze in public he even has an illegitimate daughter in Texas but you didn't know that and the eldest son the one up in Madison he's an adulterer and has his own and of wedlock child but they're certainly quick to cover up those minor indiscretions lord knows how many other secrets they buried and hidden away I won't let my son be poisoned by these people no way but my father got sent off on a business trip that weekend and my mother well she didn't raise objections she was the one who strongly insisted I go to church and Nevins will get confirmed in the right place she practically dragged me out of bed every Sunday morning and I think she saw how much this invitation matter to me I didn't get invited to get together as often I was improving academically and socially and this was important she warmly smiled and insisted I go don't tell your father she said they certainly wasn't planning on it I didn't know what to expect as I rang the doorbell to the Baker home backpacks slung over my shoulder and sleeping bag under my arm miles lived on the edge of town in a private neighborhood his house sat on what must have been five acres of land his backyard directly backing up to the forest I shouldn't have been nervous but I was this was my chance to fit in and get more insight into how to be more like miles creative intelligent artistic miles the door opened and the first thing I noticed was a large portrait of Jesus his head covered in a white hood he was gently feeding sheep and holding a shepherd's crook Myles stood in the doorway I looked back waved and my mom backed out of the driveway and drove off the Baker home had a distinct smell a churchy sort of smell old and stale religious artifacts littered the main floor tabletop wooden crosses ancient candles and paintings of old men and white beards buried in between a set of medieval chalices inside a massive armoire I spotted another sculpture of Minaya thens nest a near identical version of what miles had created in class the faces seemed to cry out to me I studied it for a moment marveling at its intricacies I made that one two-mile set it's weird when I sculpt I don't feel like I'm creating something out of that block of clay it feels like the object is already inside of it fully formed I'm just destroying the shell and allowing it to be free it was remarkably personal and no one had ever talked to me like that before it felt like miles had just shared some intimate knowledge with me and I may have even blushed I finally worked up the courage and I asked miles woman I have been mint and doesn't mean anything he shrugged I made it out I just thought it sounded cool and mysterious minutes ticked by then an hour miles and I watch TV in the basement and talked about school church and even girls he told me about his creative process and how we hope to study hard in Europe no one else had arrived it was just me and miles mrs. Baker called down to us for dinner and the aroma of hot cheese and tomato sauce wafted downstairs it was a welcome respite even the basement smelled like a sanctuary the table was set for 4:00 the Baker parents Myles and me no one else was coming mrs. Baker told us they'd all called to cancel I didn't remember hearing the phone ring mrs. Baker was dressed plainly in a blue dress and mr. Baker wore pleated khakis in a slightly ill-fitting red flannel shirt I moved towards one end of the table but mrs. Baker smiled and pulled out a different chair for me our special guest gets the best seat in the house she said every chair looked pretty much the same but how was I to argue mrs. Baker Myles and I each had clear glasses of lemonade by our plate mr. Baker had a black coffee mug the cup was not steaming my thoughts immediately shifted to my father then I heard his voice in my head telling me that there sure wasn't coffee or tea in that mug mr. Baker lifted the mug and took a satisfying gulp smacking his lips together when he finished he noticed me watching him and my eyes darted away I grabbed my glass of lemonade and took a long drinkin I noticed my hand shaking the table conversation began innocently enough but soon the topics shifted to religion and faith mrs. Baker beamed as I told her about how much I had been studying and the gains I'd made and she even had me recite her favorite part of the Nicene Creed when you stood up in front of the whole congregation and that was one of my favorite days she said mr. Baker continued drinking from his black mug and left to refill it from the kitchen two three four more times he wobbled just a little more noticeably each time he kept silent cutting his pizza with a knife and fork and chewing each piece meticulously and every so often he leered at me studied me he constantly narrowed his eyes and grimaced like he doubted every word I was saying I pictured it in my seed each time finally mr. Baker spoke but he wasn't really talking to the table he was more talking at the table he wanted an audience he went on about a few people his mailman's gay son the henderson girls alleged abortion and his co-workers drinking problem all godless people soulless no direction and no purpose his head snapped at me and what do you think he asked I tipped my glass back and nervously finished my lemonade and out of the corner of my eye saw mr. Baker grinning ever so slightly mrs. Baker looked over at him her eyes silently asking mr. Baker for approval or agreement in something he stared back at her and they shared something on spoken miles shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked away something didn't feel right no nothing felt right I suddenly regretted being there hated being there I despised the smell in the crosses everywhere the eyes of all the religious figures and the paintings cast judgment upon me my head was spinning slowly at first and then faster and faster I looked over at Minaya thens Nast him I swore was vibrating like a thousand insects are about to break free and engulf me in a tornado of hornet fury I got it together I regained my senses Abed in I opened my eyes Minaya thens nasty sat unmoving mr. Baker's chair squeaked and he looked at me he'd been backing away from the table but he stopped cold what are you drinking mr. Baker I asked my grin slyly my word script with intent I'm not sure why I was so brazen it just came out of me I heard my father's voice in my head imploring me to stand up to mr. Baker my father's warnings and trepidations about the Baker's had finally bubbled to the surface my father was right these people were bad news mr. Baker didn't answer his gay shifted between me and mrs. Baker I didn't let him respond instead I excused myself and I stumbled downstairs collapsing on my sleeping bag I wanted to gather my things and call home but I couldn't will myself to do it my head spun with greater intensity and I thought about the safety of my own house my own bed but I was almost glued to my sleeping bag I wondered if I'd been drugged but my mind couldn't make the proper connections my body begged to pass out but something was fighting it was it my ADHD I was practically an insomniac because of my mags maybe the medicine was counteracting the drugs are my pills were wearing off and my mind was returning to its hyper alert state or perhaps the drugs just didn't work on me who knows I lay motionless unable to fall asleep and unable to do pretty much anything else hours passed at some point the door to the basement creaked open and I saw a sliver of light creep through the hushed voices of the Baker's spilt into the basement and it could only make out two fragments is not of pure faith his blood will not satisfy the door shut then I willed myself to get up my body fought whatever happened to me and I lurched to my feet I thought about grabbing my stuff and hightailing at home I was curious I wanted to know what was going on footsteps echoed above me on the first floor I heard the front door open and shot I figured I was alone in the house but I didn't take any chances when I'm walked a basement window slid it open and I climbed into the window well shaking off my dizziness I pulled myself up and outside my breath fogged the slightly chilly air and the dampness of the ground soaked through my socks I wasn't wearing shoes I turned towards home it will be about a 40 minute jog but something else caught my attention the Baker family was taking a midnight hike into the woods I thought about safety and my mother's embrace but again I thought of my father follow him I heard him say discover what secrets they have buried away against my better judgment I listened to the voice in my head I entered the forest and trailed the Baker's at a safe distance mindful of each and every stride one crack of a twig or one errant step would give me away and often stopped and peered around large trees reconsidering my course of action but adrenaline won the moment and I pushed forward I relied on the noises of the Baker's trampling through the dark woods the moon was full and rays of light peek through the foliage above I gained confidence with each and every step the effects of whatever happened to me earlier wearing off by the minute that heard rumblings ahead I ascended a small hill and I found myself looking down on a congregation of about 100 people in a small clearing the crowd stood arm-in-arm maybe ten rows deep they were chanting softly all facing the large tree I was looking directly at the backs of the chanters and not considered moving to get a better vantage point just who was down there I turned to make my way silently across the hill but my eyes caught something else I stopped dead in my tracks everyone in the crowd was looking at the same thing and I finally spotted it up in the tree it was a familiar sight Minaya thens nest but it was the real thing it was about 30 feet off the ground hanging off of a branch near the center of the tree the nest was much larger than miles of sculpture it looked to be about five feet long and two feet wide it was difficult to tell in the darkness but I swore I could see faces etched into the nest those screaming horrified faces that miles had recreated ever so delicately in art glass body suede and the sea of Chandra started in the center three people approached the tree from the back now each carrying what looked like a passed out child in his arms they slowly advanced toward the nest the children held out like offerings to an altar the nest pulsated slowly at first and then with increased bigger as the three people near the tree the chanting intensified and the arms of the congregation raised in unison the nest shook violently and started to break apart something was forcing its way out the chanting became louder and deeper for a moment I forgot where I was that was entranced and it felt like I was back in one of the schools display case staring spellbound at miles sculptor my foot slept in the mud and a small rock tumbled down the hill a head turns awards from the outermost row then another I wasn't sure if they'd seen me but it was the wake-up call I needed I stumbled backwards and fell to the ground I popped up and I killed it down the hill towards the Baker house just as a hideous and high-pitched screech echoed through the night my legs chugged and churned my lungs were aflame and my eyes burned with tears I tore through the woods running only on instinct hoping I was heading in the right direction but not sure if I was only heading deeper into the abyss the forest somehow I made it back into the Baker's backyard I collapsed onto the ground and I sobbed just a thirteen-year-old kid bawling his eyes out not quite sure of the magnitude of the horrific scene he'd just witnessed I eventually staggered to my feet covered in mud i amble to the window well climbed back inside through the window and collapsed into my sleeping bag I couldn't leave they would know what I'd seen they'd know that I bore witness to the ceremonia heard the terrible wail of what ever emerged from that nest I had to pretend I'd been sleeping the whole time they made some fast decisions I stripped off my muddy clothes and I put on some clean shorts of a t-shirt I cleaned up the debris I tracked into the basement make sure the window well looked as undisturbed as possible and washed my muddy clothes in the basement sink my heart saying when I realized I was missing a sock I had gone through the whole ordeal without shoes and my sock must have come off in the woods I cursed my carelessness and said a quick prayer that no one would stumble across it amongst the trees I slipped into my sleeping bag and I waited it was 3:00 a.m. I considered the possibilities of how I'd be caught and I remembered one crucial element footprints were my tracks plainly visible in the grass my stomach dropped almost at that very instant raindrops began peppering the house and it quickly turns into a downpour I took it as a sign I was getting through this against all odds I fell asleep I awoke to the smells and sounds of crackling bacon from upstairs I rolled up my sleeping bag grabbed my stuff and I climbed the basement steps I was greeted merrily by mrs. Baker who handed me a plate of breakfast I took my seat at the kitchen table next to miles whose plate of food was half-eaten he nibbled on some sausage links and mumbled the cheerful morning through bites of food mr. Baker strode into the kitchen kissed mrs. Baker on the cheek and took a seat at the table with the newspaper it was all very normal very all-american you'd never have thought some nefarious nest worshipping and human sacrifice had gone on the night before I almost doubted the whole thing happened my mother arrived to pick me up 30 minutes later miles stopped me right before I headed up the doorway and to be a muddy saag my sock I found this he said terror filled me but it dissipated quickly miles his eyes was soft he didn't have his father's rage I nodded and headed outside to say my life changed after that is an understatement I was weary of every single person around me how many people in my life had linked up Armand Tong to worship the nest in the tree I resolved to never tell a soul not even my own mother after all she had encouraged me to sleep over at the Baker home as awful as the thought was she could have been in on it if anyone suspected that I knew about the wail in the woods the children that were carried to the nasta or if miles decided to tell somebody about what he found it was simply too dangerous I was a threat I decided to carry the secret with me for as long as I lived but I had to make some changes I acted out more in class dawn was the new studious me back was the slacker devil-may-care attitude it was a return to form and in my mind it relieves suspicion I dropped out of my church classes which seemed to relieve my father but he never directly gave me a pat on the back my mother wouldn't allow that it was just something about what I'd heard the Baker's say in the hallway he is not a pure faith his blood will not satisfy that reasoned being is ungodly as possible was the safest bed for my survival that drifted away from miles within a few months we weren't speaking at all as I slacked off in my studies miles had only improved in my last day of church class he'd wowed the other students with a dramatic retelling of the creation story he soon was accepted to an art program overseas and was gone least that's what that woman said but mainly I tried to forget I tried to fool myself into thinking was ceremony never happened I grew up middle school high school college I tried to forget it all in a way I almost did the more years passed the more the incident receded into the deepest recesses of my memory by the time I was married with an 8 year old son of my own the ceremony in Manhattan's nest seemed like something out of a dream in a way I began to doubt that the experience had occurred it was a legend the stuff of the imagination of a 13 year old kid long since grown up but as is often the case incidents we think are buried have this remarkable way of crawling to the surface I was 36 years old and I had just accepted a job across the country in the Pacific Northwest I moved out to Oregon with my wife and son and we were exploring the local churches in town I had no interest in attending church I wasn't a religious man but I tagged along with my wife and son we sat in the office of the pastor and my eyes scanned the religious artifacts in display in the far wall buried amongst the collection was a sculpture of Minaya moons nest I choked up unable to breathe the memories came flooding back each more vivid than the last as the pastor talked to us about the congregation services and volunteering opportunities my gaze constantly shifted to the nest the meeting was a blur when it ended the pastor walked us to the door my family exited first but before I could slip up the door the pastor touched my arm I turned him he nodded at the artifact recollection he knew that I knew panic filled me but the pastor only smiled and he made a familiar motion he reached across his chest and touched his left shoulder with his right fist a sign it suddenly became clear all those years ago the principal wasn't mocking me he thought I was one of them one of the worshippers and for the first time in years I opened my eyes instead of trying to forget the incident occurred I embraced it and I started seeing it everywhere at a party at my new neighbor's house small painting of Minaya thens nest sat on a bookshelf two neighbors discreetly gave themselves a sign I spotted a small figurine at a barber shop a drawing at a coffee shop watercolors sketches and doodles on refrigerators all around me the whispers I was finally a toon I met a guy today his blood on the extra right she's believed in God all our life can we bring her to the nest pure of faith she believes it only takes the true believers we are the sculptures my brother molding the world stone Jess I fully realized the world in which I lived in which we all lived and I only had one thought I must protect my son he must never be given to the creature that emerged from the nest that night there may have been thousands of these creatures these Minaya thens I'd moved 2,000 miles away and Minaya thens nest had followed me I didn't know how many there were I'm not sure I wanted to know all that mattered was my boys safety and so my mission continues not long ago my wife opened a box in our basement and she discovered in interesting item Myles is sculpture of Minaya thens masked from decades ago my forgotten I'd had it not long after the incident in the woods I sneaked into school late at night I smashed the display case by the front office carefully when I lifted out Minaya thens nest and placed it into a box I proceeded to destroy every piece of art in the case save the nest and left them all in thousands of pieces on the hallway floor it was total carnage - whoever cleaned it up every single student art piece was shattered beyond recognition I needed my own Minaya thens nest and I remember thinking this may come in handy one day I might need to prove myself to the others so they don't offer me or eliminate me I looked upon the nest for the first time in over 20 years the one that started me on my journey they study that that familiar hypnotizing effect taking me once more such precision such detail dozens of faces all screaming in surprise or terror and I noticed one I didn't remember before maybe I'd never looked closely enough it was miles his face frozen in a horrified scream I placed the nest on a bookshelf in our family room it's best everyone sees it so they don't suspect anything I'd even give the sign when I know this a neighbor gazing upon it anything to keep my boy safe but I'm not one of them no way my wife asked me if I was the one who carved the nest but she should know better than anyone I don't have an artistic bone in my body have me a block of clay and I'm useless and I could never destroy the shell and allow something to be free I'm no sculptor you if you made it this far I hope you'll follow me on Twitter at Kings spook creepy you

Channel: KingSpook

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Id: s8fkn7XC054

Length: 33min 37sec (2017 seconds)

Published: Sun Aug 13 2017