August 3, 2025 • 11 mins
No service. No roads. Just a drop-off by helicopter and a daily check-in by radio.
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📹 Video!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xCKmfExdILA
📖 Read Along!: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1ld9gbx/i_spent_the_night_in_a_fire_lookout_tower/
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🖋️ The Author: https://www.reddit.com/user/pentyworth223/submitted/
📹 Video!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xCKmfExdILA
📖 Read Along!: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1ld9gbx/i_spent_the_night_in_a_fire_lookout_tower/
Check out my new books! A collection of Creepypasta compiled by some of my all time favorite authors and friends!
💀 Volume 1: http://a.co/iNqTwRZ
💀 Volume 2: http://a.co/i0O9zks
💀 Comic Book: http://a.co/2POGdNW
🧊 Chill with the Community!: https://www.thechillingapp.com/
Visit the stores!
🍵 Wife's Tea Shop: https://etsy.com/shop/IvoryMonocleTea
👕 Shirts & Stuff!: https://shop.spreadshirt.com/MrCreepyPasta/
💰 Patreon (Only if you want to kids!): https://www.patreon.com/MrCreepyPasta
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/mrcreepypasta-s-storytime--4244348/support.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:01):
I'm not looking for advice. I just want someone, anyone,
to tell me I'm not the first that I didn't
imagine it. Something else is knocked on that hatch before.
When I took the job, it felt like a blessing.
Two weeks alone on a firewatch tower off grid, paid
(00:23):
in cash, so that was part of a remote reactivation program.
Some of the towers hadn't been used in years. This
one needed a body to make it active again. For
funding fine by me. No service, no roads, just a
drop off by helicopter and a daily check in by radio. Notebooks,
(00:49):
coffee and way too much instant ramen, and I thought
I'd be bored. That was the plan. The tower itself
was old than I expected, steel frame, probably World War
II era, forty feet tall, with a vertical ladder that
groaned when I climbed it. At the top was a
(01:10):
single room cabin with wide windows on all four sides,
a trapdoor entry, and a thick metal latch locked from within.
The moment I stepped inside, I knew something was off,
not wrong, exactly, just off. The room felt colder than outside,
(01:33):
even in the afternoon sun. The air was still musty, stale,
just still kind of still that feels intentional. The first
few days passed like I hoped, slow, uneventful. The red
wrote watched clouds, no fire, activity, no animals, barely any wind.
(02:02):
But the silence didn't feel peaceful, felt held. Then the
scratching started. He was faint, inconsistent, always at night. At
(02:24):
first I thought maybe it was a bird or a squirrel,
testing the supports, but it always came from the same spot,
beneath the northeast corner of the floorboards. I crouched there
with a flashlight more than once, checked the bolts, the framing. Nothing,
no gaps, no nests. The sounds kept coming, like fingernails,
dragging the slow spirals into the wood. By the fourth night,
(02:48):
I couldn't sleep. I kept imagining it something under the floorboard,
tracing circles. Then I found the first message. It wasn't written.
It was carved, shallow but deliberate, into the underside of
the desk, barely visible unless you were lying on the
(03:09):
floor like I was. Five lines don't leave after dark,
don't answer the latter, don't look at its hands, don't
speak your name, and whatever you do, don't open the
(03:31):
trap door. My stomach turned. I hadn't carved that, I
hadn't even touched the desk. I stared at it for
a long time, then radioed it in HQ. Told me
I was probably reading old graffiti, said a guy station
here a decade ago used to write creepy poems. Laughed
(03:54):
it off and reminded myself that I was one hundred
miles from the nearest person. But that didn't explain the
sixth line that I found the next night, or how
it was fresh. It doesn't like being watched. That was
(04:19):
carved into the window frame, same jagged strokes. I started
leaving lights on after that all night, every bulb, even
the flashlight. But around midnight the power flickered, and then
I heard it knocking, four slow knocks from beneath the
(04:44):
trap door, not from the ladder, not from below, from
inside the room, under the floorboards. I didn't move, I
just I just stared at the hatch. The bolt was
rattling gently, not forced, just tested the way someone might
(05:05):
turn a doorknob to see if it's locked. Her voice
whispered my name, not shouted, just whispered, like someone who
was lying just beneath the wood, mouth pressed to the grain,
and it sounded. It sounded like me. I stayed frozen
(05:29):
until the first light of dawn pushed through the windows.
When I finally moved, I found something by my cot
in the dust. Footprints, bare, human shaped but wrong, the
toes the room backwards. The next day I tried to
(05:58):
convince myself I was They opened all the windows, let
the wind in, took a cold sponge bath, anything to
break the spell. And that's when I noticed the trees.
They were closer.
Speaker 2 (06:16):
I don't mean they felt closer, I mean they were.
There used to be a clearing around the tower, fifty
sixty feet at least. Now the pines pressed just below
the window. Ledge needles brushed the glass. And that's when
I found the photo, folded and wedged between two floorboards
(06:40):
near the cot. It was black and white, faded, curled
with age. They showed the tower taken from a distance,
maybe the edge of the tree line. But something was wrong.
There was a figure standing at the top of the tower,
just beneath the hatch, tall, thin, too thin, arms.
Speaker 1 (07:08):
Long enough to bend at the knees, fingers that trailed
below the rungs. The face wasn't cleared. It was just
a smudge like the film had been warped. But in
the window above someone was watching, pressed to the glass,
(07:31):
wearing my jacket, same hat, same patched shoulder, same expression
I'd seen in the mirror that morning. I turned the
photo over. A single line was written in blocky uneven pen.
Speaker 2 (07:52):
You let it out. I locked the trap door, blocked
it with the desk there. I locked the windows, turn
on every light in there.
Speaker 1 (08:01):
I waited. It didn't knock that night. Instead it whispered,
not my name. This time it had said, come back down,
like it knew that I remembered something. And that's when
(08:25):
the final carving appeared. I thought it yesterday, beneath the cot,
carved into the metal support frame. You opened it in
your sleep. I checked the hatch, still bolted. I checked
(08:45):
the desk, still wedged. But my nails were cracked, my
hands ached, My shirt was dirty, staying with pine needles
and something darker. I haven't radioed in since I don't
think they're listening anymore. Clearing's gone. I'm surrounded by trees.
I don't know if the chopper will ever see me.
(09:06):
And across the canopy there's another tower. Was it there before?
It's taller, it's thinner, built of darker metal, windows blacked out,
no movement, he said last night when I saw a
(09:27):
light inside it just a second, a flicker like a
flashlight or a match, and then something at the window
pressed against the glass watching me, and it.
Speaker 3 (09:43):
Looked like me only smiling.
Speaker 2 (09:57):
Either.
Speaker 1 (09:58):
Kids, It's me, mister Greepasta, And I just wanted to
tell you thank you so much for watching tonight's video
or for listening to tonight's episode of the podcast wherever
you happen to do that.
Speaker 2 (10:07):
So if it's like on YouTube, then you're probably, you know,
watching the video, But if it's on not then you're
probably listening to the podcast. You're like with Spotify or
Apple or something like that. But yeah, thank you so
much for listening. And as always, I want to give
a very big thank you to everybody who supports me
over at Patreon, Patreon dot com slash mister Creepypasta.
Speaker 1 (10:27):
I cannot thank you guys enough. Thank you guys so
much for being supporters.
Speaker 2 (10:32):
That goes for everybody who is down in the description,
as well as Acid System, Ball Arms of the Rat, Blake, Ratler, Random, Mendoza,
Grena Crow, Brimstone, Pnemonium, Caltuna, Shame, Smoker Dealer, Chicago hit Man,
Corey Tench grow up by the Way, Crusader, Jocobo, curs
Po's Primark to go to Best, Thanka Polson, Don't take
n Kaid, Dina Kraus, Ellie Hotmeyer and Chatted Buns est
to Bean Jellahalsey Hay, his nephew Himbo Jerry. However a
minute second time, Jay Keams Jeenni's pat Jordan, Humble Kin Krab,
(10:52):
Mister Marcus Splitz, Old Penguin, Peaceful Buddha, cyco Ol, Red
Shadow Cat, remember the song Rinku Star Salty Surprise, samaraw
Line Seclude, Simba's Buddy, Mojo Sky Harper, My Psychotic Sully Man,
Tully Sue, the Shapez Brothers. Thank you so much, and honestly,
thank you to everybody, even those guys that are in
there for just one dollar.
Speaker 1 (11:07):
It really helps me out. Once again, that's patreon dot
com slash mister Creepy Pasta or if you guys like
to just listen, honestly, it helps me out a lot too.
Thank you guys so much for being here, thank you
for listening, thank you for watching. They're sweet, your hins
I'm not looking for advice. I just want someone, anyone,
to tell me I'm not the first that I didn't
imagine it. Something else is knocked on that hatch before.
When I took the job, it felt like a blessing.
Two weeks alone on a firewatch tower off grid, paid
(00:23):
in cash, so that was part of a remote reactivation program.
Some of the towers hadn't been used in years. This
one needed a body to make it active again. For
funding fine by me. No service, no roads, just a
drop off by helicopter and a daily check in by radio. Notebooks,
(00:49):
coffee and way too much instant ramen, and I thought
I'd be bored. That was the plan. The tower itself
was old than I expected, steel frame, probably World War
II era, forty feet tall, with a vertical ladder that
groaned when I climbed it. At the top was a
(01:10):
single room cabin with wide windows on all four sides,
a trapdoor entry, and a thick metal latch locked from within.
The moment I stepped inside, I knew something was off,
not wrong, exactly, just off. The room felt colder than outside,
(01:33):
even in the afternoon sun. The air was still musty, stale,
just still kind of still that feels intentional. The first
few days passed like I hoped, slow, uneventful. The red
wrote watched clouds, no fire, activity, no animals, barely any wind.
(02:02):
But the silence didn't feel peaceful, felt held. Then the
scratching started. He was faint, inconsistent, always at night. At
(02:24):
first I thought maybe it was a bird or a squirrel,
testing the supports, but it always came from the same spot,
beneath the northeast corner of the floorboards. I crouched there
with a flashlight more than once, checked the bolts, the framing. Nothing,
no gaps, no nests. The sounds kept coming, like fingernails,
dragging the slow spirals into the wood. By the fourth night,
(02:48):
I couldn't sleep. I kept imagining it something under the floorboard,
tracing circles. Then I found the first message. It wasn't written.
It was carved, shallow but deliberate, into the underside of
the desk, barely visible unless you were lying on the
(03:09):
floor like I was. Five lines don't leave after dark,
don't answer the latter, don't look at its hands, don't
speak your name, and whatever you do, don't open the
(03:31):
trap door. My stomach turned. I hadn't carved that, I
hadn't even touched the desk. I stared at it for
a long time, then radioed it in HQ. Told me
I was probably reading old graffiti, said a guy station
here a decade ago used to write creepy poems. Laughed
(03:54):
it off and reminded myself that I was one hundred
miles from the nearest person. But that didn't explain the
sixth line that I found the next night, or how
it was fresh. It doesn't like being watched. That was
(04:19):
carved into the window frame, same jagged strokes. I started
leaving lights on after that all night, every bulb, even
the flashlight. But around midnight the power flickered, and then
I heard it knocking, four slow knocks from beneath the
(04:44):
trap door, not from the ladder, not from below, from
inside the room, under the floorboards. I didn't move, I
just I just stared at the hatch. The bolt was
rattling gently, not forced, just tested the way someone might
(05:05):
turn a doorknob to see if it's locked. Her voice
whispered my name, not shouted, just whispered, like someone who
was lying just beneath the wood, mouth pressed to the grain,
and it sounded. It sounded like me. I stayed frozen
(05:29):
until the first light of dawn pushed through the windows.
When I finally moved, I found something by my cot
in the dust. Footprints, bare, human shaped but wrong, the
toes the room backwards. The next day I tried to
(05:58):
convince myself I was They opened all the windows, let
the wind in, took a cold sponge bath, anything to
break the spell. And that's when I noticed the trees.
They were closer.
Speaker 2 (06:16):
I don't mean they felt closer, I mean they were.
There used to be a clearing around the tower, fifty
sixty feet at least. Now the pines pressed just below
the window. Ledge needles brushed the glass. And that's when
I found the photo, folded and wedged between two floorboards
(06:40):
near the cot. It was black and white, faded, curled
with age. They showed the tower taken from a distance,
maybe the edge of the tree line. But something was wrong.
There was a figure standing at the top of the tower,
just beneath the hatch, tall, thin, too thin, arms.
Speaker 1 (07:08):
Long enough to bend at the knees, fingers that trailed
below the rungs. The face wasn't cleared. It was just
a smudge like the film had been warped. But in
the window above someone was watching, pressed to the glass,
(07:31):
wearing my jacket, same hat, same patched shoulder, same expression
I'd seen in the mirror that morning. I turned the
photo over. A single line was written in blocky uneven pen.
Speaker 2 (07:52):
You let it out. I locked the trap door, blocked
it with the desk there. I locked the windows, turn
on every light in there.
Speaker 1 (08:01):
I waited. It didn't knock that night. Instead it whispered,
not my name. This time it had said, come back down,
like it knew that I remembered something. And that's when
(08:25):
the final carving appeared. I thought it yesterday, beneath the cot,
carved into the metal support frame. You opened it in
your sleep. I checked the hatch, still bolted. I checked
(08:45):
the desk, still wedged. But my nails were cracked, my
hands ached, My shirt was dirty, staying with pine needles
and something darker. I haven't radioed in since I don't
think they're listening anymore. Clearing's gone. I'm surrounded by trees.
I don't know if the chopper will ever see me.
(09:06):
And across the canopy there's another tower. Was it there before?
It's taller, it's thinner, built of darker metal, windows blacked out,
no movement, he said last night when I saw a
(09:27):
light inside it just a second, a flicker like a
flashlight or a match, and then something at the window
pressed against the glass watching me, and it.
Speaker 3 (09:43):
Looked like me only smiling.
Speaker 2 (09:57):
Either.
Speaker 1 (09:58):
Kids, It's me, mister Greepasta, And I just wanted to
tell you thank you so much for watching tonight's video
or for listening to tonight's episode of the podcast wherever
you happen to do that.
Speaker 2 (10:07):
So if it's like on YouTube, then you're probably, you know,
watching the video, But if it's on not then you're
probably listening to the podcast. You're like with Spotify or
Apple or something like that. But yeah, thank you so
much for listening. And as always, I want to give
a very big thank you to everybody who supports me
over at Patreon, Patreon dot com slash mister Creepypasta.
Speaker 1 (10:27):
I cannot thank you guys enough. Thank you guys so
much for being supporters.
Speaker 2 (10:32):
That goes for everybody who is down in the description,
as well as Acid System, Ball Arms of the Rat, Blake, Ratler, Random, Mendoza,
Grena Crow, Brimstone, Pnemonium, Caltuna, Shame, Smoker Dealer, Chicago hit Man,
Corey Tench grow up by the Way, Crusader, Jocobo, curs
Po's Primark to go to Best, Thanka Polson, Don't take
n Kaid, Dina Kraus, Ellie Hotmeyer and Chatted Buns est
to Bean Jellahalsey Hay, his nephew Himbo Jerry. However a
minute second time, Jay Keams Jeenni's pat Jordan, Humble Kin Krab,
(10:52):
Mister Marcus Splitz, Old Penguin, Peaceful Buddha, cyco Ol, Red
Shadow Cat, remember the song Rinku Star Salty Surprise, samaraw
Line Seclude, Simba's Buddy, Mojo Sky Harper, My Psychotic Sully Man,
Tully Sue, the Shapez Brothers. Thank you so much, and honestly,
thank you to everybody, even those guys that are in
there for just one dollar.
Speaker 1 (11:07):
It really helps me out. Once again, that's patreon dot
com slash mister Creepy Pasta or if you guys like
to just listen, honestly, it helps me out a lot too.
Thank you guys so much for being here, thank you
for listening, thank you for watching. They're sweet, your hins
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