''The Carpathian Carver'' by LJ | #Creepypasta

[Music] the Carpathian Mountains cast a long shadow as the Sun set I was in this godforsaken place for my brother he had left three months ago leaving a voice mail before vanishing he said he was on to something that it might take some time but that when he returned he would have no more worries I've been worried every day since you never really know how much you miss someone until they're gone I grown familiar with his journal the past week as I made my way here traveling from my home in America to hot rod in Ukraine I boarded a train from there destined for a small village off the maps I opened the journal to the entry I'd bookmarked June 13th looks like I wasn't lost turns out there's a town out of the way east of us all rot geez I had to read over the Train ruse like 13 times before I even saw it it took me all day to get here unfortunately it's super small pretty old but the worst thing is that it smells real bad like they've been cooking asparagus casserole in an oven and forgot to check it for two years I'm staying at a rundown in but at least they've got Internet the people here are really weird though they're I don't know stiff not unfriendly on purpose but just it's like I'm in a town of autistic children the Enki barely said a word to me just brushed his beard up on me and took my money and grunted and gave me a key his eyes were super sunken in and cataracts so bad I don't know how he could see and his skin looked really weird floppy but I left too quick to get a good look because I didn't want to spend any more time next day because he smelled like asparagus too tomorrow I begin my trek into the woods I've already packed my bag checked and double-checked for food water survival gear cigarettes essential and a knife and holy water I have no plan to engage the demon in the least but best to be prepared anyhow that's it for today so good night journey get it because it's like a pet nickname for journal and I'm on a journey yeah that's funny yeah I'm funny god I'm lonely but this will all be worth it when I come home ah yes the demon reference to as the carpathian carver on the internet i collected an assortment of tales of folklore and anecdotal evidence on the creature the earliest accounts attributed to the Carver date back to the mid 16th century during a period called the ruin a period of war for total control of Ukraine one origin story describes a chance encounter between a tribe of druids and a brigade of russian soldiers fearful of their blue painted bodies and wild faces and mistaking their sacred ruins for black magic the druids were slaughtered the last one they killed died clutching an ugly book to his bleeding chest a tome of esoteric incantation it's impossible to find anywhere else there are a multitude of other theories on the internet deviant mutants supernatural two-bit laws and then government sanctioned genetic mutation gone wrong oh and aliens someone's always thinking it's aliens regardless the cause something is happening in this forest I turned the page of the journal June 14th today was a waste I searched for hours losing the Train finding it and losing it again I gave up a couple of hours before sunset insanely disappointed I was wondering if this mimic guy was just some Ukranian asshole jokester there was an interesting development however the tails folk fished a body out of the river just before I got back a woman oh it was messed up real bad I only caught a glimpse but the throat was slashed so bad it was just a gaping hole nothing in it looked like a bear or something had taken the chick down she had some claw marks along her face and a shirt was torn up my Ukrainian hasn't improved much but I heard the villagers whisper voice or something like that to each other but what does that even mean I don't know and they all have weird numbers the innkeep saw me looking and I guess I must have looked really interested because he came up to me and started saying don't go I think I'm pointing upstream he seemed pretty calm for having seen a dead person he kept scratching himself I think he'd once had frostbite or something because a splotch of his neck looked real bad I mean like it was dead I'm somewhat hesitant to continue on this Carver do drinks blood like water but if he exists that means the transmutation exists I can't stop now I've got some weapons I've seen a few Jackie Chan movies with all the cool kung fu moves yeah I'm good one more day tomorrow I'll go upstream and the day after I'll be on a plane home turning all sorts of stuff into God a gold bed a gold toilet yeah a gold toilet will really help me pick up some chicks mimic this was all his fault mimic is a user on an internet forum for paranormal discussion he is by far the leading expert on the Carver and he says he's a historian he's got loads of evidence on the Carver he describes the Carver vaguely though he seems certain holy water is his weakness mimic focuses mostly on the explanation of transmutation the book he says the druid died holding he attributes all sorts of qualities to it such as the ability to raise the dead to grant immortality to convert substances to gold and myriad other fantastical things he wrote on it in such depth that I'm sure he's convinced a lot of people to search for it surely he's making some of it up he's crafting a story a prank to convince stupid foreigners to travel all the way out of Ukraine so he can have a laugh that's what I would have thought if I hadn't received my brother's journal in the mail shipped in a box the smelled of necrosis the box that contained his severed head his head missing the eyes the number 6061 carved on his forehead I turned to the last journal entry I'm dead so dead how'd I even end up here I'm locked in a closet I've only got a lighter and I'm writing my last words I walked up the stream there was this old stone house it's the Carver's it's also a mausoleum smells putrid it's full of the dead I saw it and waited I wasn't just going to enter it not right away night came I wasn't worried I'd be able to find my way back just followed the stream and then I saw him the Carver his flesh clings to his body he's so skinny almost a skeleton if not for the pale blue skin wrapped tightly to his bones he walked slowly but surely with a strange confidence I waited a while after I lost sight of him just to make sure I would be in and out in a flash I thought part of the wall had collapsed on one side I jumped it and I got hit by that smell a smell that follows me it sunk into my hair and my skin I smell like a corpse in moon it lit a bit of the room centuries old this building and it smelled there were fragments of bones and trinkets a stained rug but no book I went into a door the smell got stronger it was in my nostrils now and I vomited I wiped my mouth and pulled out my lighter my hands shaking so bad I almost couldn't get it lit and the dead people were there they were propped propped up like figures in a wax museum dressed in fashions from eons ago all different kinds of skeletal or ripe green or or dirt brown and some of them were hanging from the ceiling like marionettes dancing and others were sitting at a table silverware in hand and another was staring out the window another had a laptop in its hands and another the playing makeup while staring into a mirror can you imagine that a dead person staring at themselves in a mirror staring with no eyes just black sockets and there was another propped up in a chair reading a book the explanation of transmutation I pulled the book out of his hands knocking the corpse over a thousand baby spiders exploding from the skull I ran into the forest waiting to see the Carver but he wasn't there I was elated the world was mined I stopped to catch a breath and the book began calling my name I took a quick look the pages were blank they were all blank page after page after page I kept turning all blank except the last one one sentence scrawled need new eyes and I heard footsteps behind me then I woke up here and I'm waiting to die and I'm so alone I hope someone reads this please stay away my brother's address is as follows send this to him tell him I miss him tears came no longer I'd read it too many times imagined his death too many times I put the journal away as the train began to slow i dis embarked the only passenger to do so the air had a fetid odor and grew stronger the closer to town I walked it reminded me to prepare myself so I stopped and unzipped my travel back I didn't bring just a knife like my brother no I came to slaughter an mp5 and a fragmentation grenade which I purchased through a friend of a friend of a contact in my brother's journal six nine millimeter clips and a gallon of holy water blessed by a reluctant priest a machete and a liter of gasoline and matches I was going to torture the Carver to death with my weapons readied I continued into town oil street lamps lit the cobbled stone streets and I began to see people slow milling about aimlessly I continue down into the middle of the street studying the town it was a gypped storied with a history I would never know was it built during the ruin the throngs of towns wrote began to thicken they all looked sick and had numbers written on their shirts what did it mean they were all in the 6,000th but not one higher than these were the Carver's victims they had me surrounded dozens of them all staring at me the faint glow of the street lamps illuminating the sickly pallor of their dead flesh I saw the innkeep amongst them in the back he was a stranger to be sure but there was something I recognized in his gaze contrarily the villagers eyes were glazed void of consciousness they stepped toward me gun in hand I dropped the bag and began spraying bullets into the crowd black bloodless holes filled their bodies and he just kept coming ignoring the rounds aside for a flinch from impact clip after clip was spent I could smell the decay on their breath could see the yellowed whites of their eyes and then there was a click of the last magazine running dry only a few lay still and I began to worry I strapped the bag of munitions to my back and sprinted towards the closest building kicking down the door and barricading it as soon as I stepped away the door rattled on its hinges the villagers bloodlust made audible in clarion screams it wasn't gonna hold very long shadows flit by the windows I heard glass shatter somewhere got to go got to get out but where do I go I ran through the house searching desperately but only one thing came to mind burn baby burn I wouldn't be able to escape but I wouldn't be the only one to die tonight I'd be on another lap through the house unzipping the bag and pouring the gasoline in a trail evading villages that breached the building I struck a match and the trail lit consuming the house in an instant a few villages in the way of the trail became walking torches though they did not scream as the flames roasted their skin in fact they made no reaction other than to continue to lumber toward me it was useless I tried to run they were around every corner I couldn't get out I ascended a staircase trying to dodge the flames quickly climbing it and then I stopped as I heard a loud groan the stairwell broke and I fell [Music] I woke with a start my temple pulsing in agony the smoke was caustic as I inhaled and the light of flames flickered through the cracks above illuminating the tunnel I was in with eerie light after my eyes adjusted I crept down a dank passage I saw torchlight near the end said beside an ancient rotted door it was heavy and creaking loudly despite my caution it opened up into a mammoth room cobbled and mildewed lit by lanterns in intervals a foul odor crept into my lungs and there was not a breath shallow enough to save me from it stone tables were staggered throughout at least a hundred each with something on them embalming tables they were all embalming tables still occupied by bodies of mangled pale flesh that hadn't seen sunlight in decades I walked silently toward one careful not to wake them lest they be animated like the villagers the one I looked at had a carving in its chest the number 1012 he kept them the carver kept them as trophies this was disgusting I was disgusted and I needed out I needed out right now the confines of the room began to close in claustrophobia squeeze my lungs as I ran through the room aimlessly searching for an exit any way out but it was filled with tables tables and corpses and that terrible smell in my carelessness I knocked over a trap of tools rusted brown and they clattered to the ground the echo lasting several moments and before I even looked up I could feel I is on me when I did every corpse in the room was sitting up staring at me and then cold fetid hands clasped my face from behind me in the world faded to black I woke to darkness hanging by my arms I stood up the reek of death all around me when my eyes adjusted I realized I was in the room my brother had described the one with all the corpses propped up except they were all staring into my eyes with green withered faces I remained motionless for I could not tell if they were alive or not they were perfectly still but their eyes their eyes were alive and glistening they looked around but there was no escape I saw the bag with my supplies in it five feet away but impossible to reach for my wrists were bound by chains my head dropped this was it I had failed I would die in the same curse it place is my brother hats my poor brother I was not strong enough to avenge you I looked back up like an elucidation two corpses lay on the floor one freshly killed one headless and a ghastly figure kneeling beside them with a book in hand it had a mask of human flesh on the in keeps he was wearing the in keep the creature was frail emaciated his bone is more prominent than his musculature varicose veins pulsated splintering off from his heart like lightning there was a patchwork of his victims flesh wrapped around him in dispersed by dried blood and pale blue he began incanting an ancient language with a voice of a woman and he looked at me my brother's eyes inside his darkened sockets the demon put his finger inside the newly deceased head rubbed the brown blood on a page inside the book and then placed his hand on the headless body it began twitching the Carver dropped the book standing to look at me he ripped the flesh mask off the moon lighting a sickening smile on his lip les faced the headless course stood up wobbling 6061 carved in his chest a boast a trophy the Carver reached toward me his fingers miss shapen claws the corpse flinched bristle behind it as if agitated new ah he hissed he poked my chest and began pushing slowly maintaining eye contact the whole time his head tilted relishing my reaction his finger squirmed sliced tissue prodded my lung and suddenly he fell to the floor my brother's body had attacked it but as soon as the Carver lost sight of me it flailed blindly searching without eyes for the chains that bound me it made contact and with supernatural strength tore it from the ceiling I would have offered thanks but it didn't have ears with which to hear me Carver was back up and grabbed my brother's body throwing it outside through the wall as soon as he turned back to me I whipped the broken shallot denting its skull it fell back to the ground stunned and I went for my bag rifling through it I desperately threw the vials of holy water at the demon but they did not impede his recovery no no I grasped as the Carver pulled apart my chest and through the pain I swung them as sheti down tearing his torso wide open he recoiled falling to his knees at my feet clutching his spilt innards I reach back into the back grab the grenade pulled the pin with my teeth and shoved it inside his wound this was it the explosion was deafening I sailed through the air dead flesh rained from the sky everything was destroyed through the haze of my fading consciousness I realized that I was missing most of my body I lay still this was the end I gave it my best aunt had one even though it cost my life to succeed it was worth it I closed my eyes time passed but I could not tell how much nor did I care and then something shook me awake a cold breeze or a soft hell from far away I blinked the air was charged with some sort of energy I looked over my shoulder I saw a blue glow as the carvers body began piecing itself back together only tiny pieces but it was forming quickly already a finger was reformed no I won I had one I'd beaten him I would not allow my victory to be snatched away I would not allow this I began crawling with the last limb I had attached at first to the Carver but then to the book lying next year it was already open turn to a page which I could not read but something called to me from it whispering in my mind and I knew not what I did I only acted I picked a bit of the Carver's gray matter of my face and placed it on the page which said strange ruins a glow in blue lines the book spoke to my mind told me to trace the last room but I hesitated I knew what this meant I would become the new Carver I would become a monster unredeemable atrocious forsaken and alone but was I not already alone the Carver's head was mushy still but his face was forming and if I did this how many brothers would I steal from the world how many families would I destroy without regret or conscience was it worth vengeance the Carver's torso was fusing together bone popping out of a hand that reached toward me if I chose this I would be immortal undead leading a hollow life of stealing from the living could I live with myself and knowing what I was the Carver pulled himself on top of me his saliva dripping on my face was this worth absolute victory what would you think my brother I think so I traced the room my body disintegrated the transformation was extraordinary my mind was filled with knowledge foreign memories made consciousness transcended senses redefined beliefs and morals distorted and remained existence was understood from a whole different perspective life was in essence something tangible transferable if one used the right tools my body was reformed stronger more powerful restructured with a foreign genetic code but it was also malnourished I reached out for one of the myriad limbs laying around me and used it absorbed it ate it the feeling with a taste was intoxicating my greatest desire now was to use it to experiment to see how much flesh I could transmute the old carver stared up at me in horror broken and writhing yes I knew what he was thinking he had not known fear in centuries and to stand here above him to revel as he cowered hmm it was bliss I'm going to torture you to death by whispered and then I consumed him in thin ribbons of flesh and rivulets of blood dissecting him peeling his flesh taking inventory of his organs collecting his nails strangling the screams from his throat for hours on end and when I finished when he was not but a slimy paste I saw the long dead and consumed them too I left the old building to find one more corpse and found him ah but this one I would not eat I hungered yes and I would say that urge with a million souls for I was the new Carver i generated flesh on the body before me to raise the number placed on it except I left the one the first you are the first my brother let us share this victory together [Music] thanks for taking the time to drop by and watch this video you know what it make me a happy doctor hitting that like button leaving a comment and subscribing to my channel go on I've got plenty more stories to tell you

Channel: Dr. Creepen

Views: 49,716

Rating: 4.8453188 out of 5

Keywords: sexy british creepypasta narrator, creepsmcpasta is really shit, top 10 creepypastas of all time, romanian vampire creepypasta

Id: l1tmhlQKu7U

Length: 35min 30sec (2130 seconds)

Published: Mon Nov 28 2016