"War Stories"

Video Statistics and Information

Video

Captions Word Cloud

Captions

war stories by mr. Ostrow Blin a year before he died my grandfather told me a story he was in the way most old soldiers often are a no-nonsense or bright man a few words it was the morning following my 20th birthday he telephoned me at 9:30 on the dart requesting my presence at his house in the outskirts of celkon approximately a half an hour's drive I arrived nursing a hangover from the previous night and he offered me a cigarette when I hesitated he just laughed and told me that he knew I smoked and then he would not tell my father we sat together on his porch and smoked in silence watching the waves crash against the Devonshire coast eventually stubbed out the boat of his silk court and produced a shoebox which he handed to me I want to tell you about the war he sent his speech slow and slurred from a minor stroke that he suffered two years prior knowing how he felt on the matter for he had not even congratulated me on my successful application to join the army several weeks prior I said granddad you don't have to I need to he said open the box I obliged inside was a beret wrapped around three items a key a tubular bundle of tissue paper and something heavy in oil cloth I put the Box down and picked up the King admiring the intricate brass work and the unusually complex planed the only other person that knew this story was your grandmother and she's gone now I won't be around forever either you know it's important people know we were silent for a couple of minutes it sounds selfish but I hate when all people talk so fatalistically that said my curiosity was piqued by the grim show-and-tell atmosphere he lit another cigarette letting the flame of his match linger just long enough that the about its hand and just began to curl and blacken then he shook it out I joined the war to learned all through school my friend Nick and I just wanted to be heroes when the time finally came and we were gearing up to fight the Nazis in France our damn unit was diverted well he sent asked he took a deep drag on the smoke channel islands they are only part of the British Isles to be occupied by the Germans coinciding with the liberation of France we were preparing to attack the island of Jersey when the Gerry surrendered just a few hundred of them holed up in their raft Warren's in the cliffs we marched right in and rounded up all the troops he Paulist an attempt the cigarette with a four thing so that glowing ashes tumbled ferment and was snuffed out by the wind like a miniature dying star the night after the surrender Nick and I were sitting in the pot being brought drinks by the locals when a woman burst in from the rain crying and shouting for help naturally we asked her what was wrong and she told us that her children had been taken hostage and bastard by the name of Peter saw her he was some kind of priest that the Nazis had brought over with them when they'd landed also she said Nick asked where he'd taken the kids and she said that he had stolen a rowboat and was on his way to a little offshoot island called papal Rock she was sure that he was going to kill them Nick and I ran out to our superiors but as soon as we mentioned Abel wrong they wanted to call for help from the Americans and wait until light they took our rifles away and told us to forget the whole thing but I would sooner have been court-martialed and let some American GI have all the glory this was our fact our war and no matter how small it was how insignificant in the grand scheme of things we would fight it this is our home you know we stole the boat of our own and set out into the storm and wish I'd stop to think about things for a second but I was young and stupid we both were granddad put the cigarette down and unwrapped the old cloth inside it was a large old-fashioned looking pistol with faded wooden grymps Jesus granddad are you allowed to have that he winked what they don't know won't hurt them must true then it's true now at one itting cards from a Yank back in London before we set out for the islands nobody knew I had it so they couldn't take it away he sat down the gun and stoked the smoke back in his mouth exhaling blue fumes and the dying Sun that was slipping beneath the horizon long story short we land alone on this bleak old rock right in the middle of a storm lack as the devil's eyes and so sharp and craggy than its sliced wallop like boots right along the soul there was one building on this island a wooden shack overlooking the beach it was dark not just because of the time of day but like you couldn't see more than five feet in front of you I remember looking up at the sky and seen the clouds all the top by lights flashing from the inside like big stone lanterns the clouds were coiling around above Babel rock and there was a hole in the very center above the house not just a hole in the clouds like in the sky itself there were no stars just a blacked empty space sucking in the storm clouds as we were heading up the beach but nothing but the light to show us the way I swear to God it looked like the rain was falling up into that hole in the sky rendered poorest and soaked on a cigarette the tip glow and brightly and illuminated his face with a faint orange hue then he continued I pooped it open the door of the house waving the gun around like a madman but it was deserted we poked around and eventually came across a trapdoor under a carpet beneath the shack was stone steps coiling downwards into a handful of rooms carved into the rock itself not like rooms for people though the dimensions were all wrong the corridors were really tall about nine feet high but so narrow we had to turn sideways to even go through them everything was covered in wood scratchings too in the walls and on the ceiling roman numerals I think everything was quiet he said for the storm outside and we were just starting to regret even going there heroism we'll know when we rounded a corner and found the children he needed his brow and so bloody sight I'll never forget they were stood in a ring in this big oval-shaped room their eyes were all rolled back so you couldn't see the pupils and they were each reading from a little bunk like a Bible but I couldn't understand a word of what they were saying it wasn't German or Latin or any language I know before I could say anything or do anything I heard a voice from behind me horrible deep resounding it said halt and I turned around and there's Peter this fat cherry bastard in priests robes and he's got a little waffle pistol to Nick's hand told me to drop my gun and kick it over to him and I mean of course I did this was Nick he lived two doors down for me my entire life he was my best friend being a hero is nothing when it costs you everything grandpa paused I saw his leathery cheeks glistening wet with tears then he blew Knicks brains out just like that shut him in the side of the head i lunch for him trying to grab the gun and he shot me true shattered my kneecap so why I need this he tempt the heavy stick that he toppled around on as long as I knew him then he flicked away the end of his cigarette and reopened the pack with his trembling fingers it was empty I handed him my half smoked one and he nodded his head in thanks I passed out he said his face no loss to the rush of night when I came to his face was inches away from mine I could figure this breath on my cheek he stank of rotten meat there was something wrong with his eyes too black black as that hole in the sky he spoke to me then he asked me in broken English if I believed in God I could barely speak the pain was too much but I nodded and he asked me if I would like to meet him I thought then that he was just threatening to kill me to send me to meet my maker so I shook my head and I think that surprised him he stood up and walked away from me to the wall opposite and that's when I saw the door for the first time it was massive almost touching the ceiling around four feet wide and it was made of some kind of black wrong it had carved on it an apple tree and there was a snake coiling down the trunk the snake had its head turned side on to you and instead of an eye there was a weird jagged keyhole he went to the kids chanting throughout all this and picked up a key this key off the pedestal they were gathered around granddad gestured at the key it's brass was Tuukka hand glinting beneath the glow of his cigarette Peter said he spent eleven years of his life secretly visiting Babel Rock measuring the keyhole and designing a key to fit and asked him whether he put the door there and he gave me an aunt long and told me it had been there before men even walked the earth then he unlocked the door and stepped backwards saying mind God he can foresee and then something started to push the door open from the other side as it opened just a crack or the candles in the room went out and we were in done at the only light was coming from the lantern in the next room and it was just me Peter and what was ever opening the door and all the while the kids were chanting and singing had opened a few more inches and a hand came through all charred and calloused but it wasn't a human hand god no it was small with long hooked fingertips and it called around the edge of the door as though it were cautious of entering the room as it did the I began to taste of seawater and sulfur and I was more scared then than I've ever been in my entire life I told my eyes away dry myself off to 1.45 and then I turned around and I shot Peter in the back pow he mined with a pistol in his hand his blood splashed across the door and war but it also landed on that hand as soon as it came in contact with blond it went crazy then started tightening its grip on the door and started pushing it was solid stone about a foot thick and this thing was just shoving it open I forgot my pain then fear was giving me strength and I limped over the room and slammed my shoulder against the door I must have surprised because it gave way and I heaved it with every ounce of strength of my body god I was tough as a lad he sucked on a smoke the tip flaring bright against the night I almost hadn't the door was almost closed but that hand and the last and monstera hand stood there reaching around in me trying to grab my arm I pulled out my boot knife and I hacked off one of its fingers it held or maybe that was just the storm above us but the hand retreated and I slammed the door closed then to my horror the door shuddered and opened a crack it was throwing its weight against it desperate to get to our world I pushed it back and then I noticed the key sticking out beside my hand I forced the door closed one last time then I turned that key and threw it away from me across the room the second the key left the door the banging stopped everything was silent the kids all kinda jolted awake like sleepwalkers and started crying all of us were covered in nyx blonde and Peter's her finger I hacked off flared up caught fire and in seconds was nothing but bone I went to Nick but he was long gone so I picked up the gun and went to Peter instead he looked up at me and he said something words that mecco around my head every night it further dick Peterson I shot him again and again until or no bullets left in my gun and he was unrecognizable and still and then the pain hit me again and I blacked out Grenda took a final drag on his cigarette then he ground it into the ashtray he sat on moving and speaking in his garden silhouettes picked out white edge by the stars like marble statues seated in an eternal for the men that had sailed across the sea and never returned I guessed at him and in the Holland he could almost be the fit powerfully-built young man in the photographs that had adorned the walls of this house before grandmother and passed away I had no idea what to think or to feel of how much of his story was true but I was enthralled by his wild what happened then ran dad as he replied clouds began to shift over the stars like curtains being drawn over a stage so that his words seemed to come from some unspecified points in the darkness and I was speaking to a ghost when I came to I heard shouting from far above commands being given boots on the stairs english voices i was sure i grabbed the gun and shoved it inside my jacket I knew that if my superiors knew about it had been even deeper shit than I already was then I saw Nick lying there on the ground and I knew that I had to get something some proof so that other people would know that his death hadn't been in vain I grew up the key and put it into my pocket but then I figured it's just a key could be for anything and I saw that finger the one I'd hacked off the hand of God whatever the hell that thing was it was just a charred bone by now but it was intact so I grabbed that too as I stuck it into my pocket men burst into the room just like paratroopers and with camel paint smeared over their faces no symbols of sigils on their uniforms either next thing I know someone's sticking a Sten gun in my face and yelling at me to identify myself naturally I did and they talked amongst themselves for a few minutes then they dragged me out of the room and onto the island itself the storm had blown itself out one of them sat with me I tried talking to him but he just straight-up blanked me I guess there must have been some special forces of some sort on strict orders not to talk to prisoners I think I heard gunfire from the Thomas below but I was so far above them I couldn't be sure as far as I could recall the only living things down there with the SpecOps boys and those kids so what they could have been shooting at I have no idea eventually a rescue boat shows up and the medic seized my leg lost some big brass guys lecture me on the importance of subtlety before I was allowed on the bone though he straight-up told me that if I'd breathe a word of what I saw on Babel rocked to anyone my friends that townspeople anyone they'd shoot me then when I got back to Jersey my commanding officer sent me down in his office and told me that I would be retired due to my injuries and that if I kept my mouth shut I get a war pension from the British government and I'd be comfortable for the rest of my life I asked about Nick and the man went all silent then he told me that his next of kin would be looked after I think they got the newspapers to report him dying as a hero fighting Jerry commandos or something I never read past the first few lines of that article I just kept seeing him in that cave gone to his head and eyes pleading for me to save him so you never told anyone I asked he must have rounded on me then because I felt spittle spray on my face as he spoke who would you have me tell nobody would have believed me would there they just think I was insulting Nick's memory trying to steal the glory from him I loved him like a brother too much to take his heroic story away from him as for my pension I nearly gave all of it away to veterans charities and such I worked the fields of this countryside until I was 72 and every penny I spirit I'm sorry granddad I didn't mean I began and laid a hand on my shoulder it's okay I should have snapped at you he struck a match and unwrapped the tissue paper inside long and angular the lay a skeletal humanoid finger far too long to be from a man and with bone hardened to a point at the tip like a claw I guess at it in awe in horror of what whispering I'm so sorry granddad I'm really really sorry he smiled and patted me on the shoulder Danny blue hunt the match and I heard him gathering the three items he had shown me and back into the box it was as I unlocked my car that I heard him call to me again Matthew he was standing in his doorway lit from behind in otherwise featureless darkness well done forgetting your job be careful over there in Afghanistan I mean always rely on your judgement no matter what they tell you he closed the door i sat in my car in the dark for nearly an hour thinking about what he'd said when I got home my father was already in bed and I lay awake gazing at the dark ceiling imagining it to be that void a center of that storm my grandfather had seen all those years ago he left me the house in as well I retired from the army after being shot in the hip during an ambush in Kabul and I was looking forward to the peace that grandpa's old place on the coast would surely bring when I was moving some of his old things into the attic I stumbled across the shoebox again it was all there the gun the key the finger made the realization of some strange dream the memories of that night floated back and I sat down and cried for the first time since his funeral a ferry to Jersey recently and then hired a local fisherman to take me to Babel wrong under the Sun with nothing but the laughter of sea birds in my ears and the taste of salt water in the air it was actually a relatively peaceful place the eye of the storm there was no Shack though in any suppose it was probably destroyed shortly after the events of my grandfather's story I found a heavy iron hatch under which was a stairwell but that ended in a square brick room scrawled with graffiti and strewn with empty crisp packets when the sunset was and its apex licking the ocean with a long orange tongue I rent the three items in his beret and held them off the cliff the hungry fronting jaws of the sea snapped them up then I sent with a thermos of tea and imagined grandad and neck sitting together on a boat destined for London full of stories of heroism perhaps he believes the story best forgotten that he wasn't a hero but I believe differently you you

Info

Channel: NaturesTemper

Views: 170,654

Rating: 4.9009256 out of 5

Keywords: Horror (Film Genre), Demon (Character Species), predators, creepy, pasta, spooky, story, haunted, monster, myuuji, my, dead, reddit, no, sleep, nosleep, narration, naturestemper, natures, temper, creature, reality, Creepypasta, real, life, ghost, twist, shadows, wolf, incompetech, weird, suggested, reading, being, demon, ASMR, British accent, national, park, service, forestry

Id: VwRZrkOeNwg

Channel Id: undefined

Length: 23min 15sec (1395 seconds)

Published: Mon Dec 25 2017

Reddit Comments