Day 4 - We Meet Again & Do You See It Too?

Creepy

This episode of Creepy Presents features two original horror stories narrated by hosts Danielle Hewitt and John Grylls as part of a '31 Days of Horror' series. The first tale follows a grieving mother who chases a mysterious man in

Key takeaways

• Toni Nicolino authored 'We Meet Again,' narrated by Danielle Hewitt, which explores themes of grief and supernatural intervention on a New York City subway platform.
• The protagonist in the first story realizes she and her daughter Inez are deceased after witnessing their mangled reflections, revealing the man in the sweater was trying to warn them about an approaching train.

Main topics

• Supernatural horror and urban legends
• Grief and psychological trauma

Notable quotes

"You tried to warn me."

Conclusion

The episode delivers a tightly paced, atmospheric horror experience that leverages graphic imagery

Transcript preview

Speaker 2 (0:00) I'm John Grylls from Creepy, and I listen to the Be Afraid Podcast Network. Creepy Presents The 31 Days of Horror Day 4 Speaker 2 (0:13) No. Speaker 4 (0:20) This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous, chilling, and disturbing creepypastas and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Speaker 3 (1:00) Let's hear another round of applause for Martin's story. Why I still live in my mom's basement. Or if I ever heard it, Speaker 4 (1:07) especially those of us who've had his Speaker 3 (1:09) mom's apple crumble. Speaker 3 (1:12) Okay, next up. Speaker 1 (1:17) Um, hi. I'm Danielle, and this is my story. We meet again. Speaker 1 (1:28) I recognize you immediately. Speaker 1 (1:31) It's the jack-o'-lantern sweater that catches my attention. The cheap heat transfer vinyl. A gaping, hideous mouth of square teeth and shifty rectangular eyes. The orange has faded. The black silhouette cracked along the edges. but it still radiates like a hazard light. I'm surprised you've kept it after all this time. How long has it been? or dared to wear it again. Speaker 1 (2:00) But I'm glad you did. I may not have noticed you otherwise. Speaker 1 (2:06) I've been waiting to happen upon you again. To confront you about the day you unraveled on the subway platform during rush hour. The day I felt my heart claw into my throat. felt the wet looseness in my bowels that only true fear can provoke. At the time, I thought you were just another loony in a city full of loonies. Speaker 1 (2:30) But you weren't, were you? Speaker 1 (2:34) You must be in a hurry, because you're walking fast, and I'm struggling to keep up. The sidewalk is crowded, and no one seems to notice my desperate hustle. I'm anxious I'll lose you, and an intense heat has settled over me. My skin feels tight and itchy. The cacophony of the city fades, and I can hear the clap of your souls against the cement. Speaker 1 (2:59) I'd like to call out your name. But I don't know it. I don't remember it being broadcast on the news after. Speaker 1 (3:09) You turn the corner now, and I follow. A woman in black leggings blows peppermint vape in my face, and I wave my hand at it, but she doesn't seem to see me. On my left, a red neon light in the bodega window says open, and I narrow my eyes against its irritating glare. Speaker 1 (3:29) I step over a spattering of milky coffee that's running toward the curb, and it reminds me of the way my daughter's bladder let go when you grabbed her. Speaker 1 (3:39) It happened so fast. A small crowd, waiting for the six train, heads down. Speaker 1 (3:48) My daughter and I had been in a hurry. There was no school, and Inez had to spend the day at my office. Speaker 1 (3:56) I remember being annoyed. My armpits damp. I plucked a strand of hair, watched it drift to the ground. Speaker 1 (4:05) We should have just stayed home. But we didn't. Speaker 1 (4:11) And then you dropped your phone on the tracks. The sound was like a grenade in the impatient silence of the platform. Speaker 1 (4:19) Your face had faded to a sickly cooked corn yellow. Your head flick flick flickering to one side. Like a puppet's on a string. You grabbed the woman closest to you and spoke to her. than to someone else. Speaker 1 (4:35) I couldn't hear what you said at first. But then your words gathered momentum. burst forth, a pus-filled whitehead exploding onto all of us. Don't get on the train. Speaker 1 (4:49) People backed away, turned their heads, walked briskly to the other end of the platform. This is New York City. People like you. Loud. Wild-eyed. Unhinged. are like the errant bottles of warm piss sometimes left on the sidewalk. We see you, but we grimace in disgust and look away. I felt a slight vibration then. heard the rumble of heavy machinery approaching. The air twisted around us as the train approached. Speaker 1 (5:22) And then there you were, your fingers around Inez's collar, dragging her away. Her bladder let go just as the jack-o'-lantern on your sweater opened its mouth wide and wider. We were all screaming, but our voices were swallowed by the deafening roar of the oncoming train. And then the police were there. And you were on the ground. And Inez was in my arms. And the train, silver and steel and safe, was in the station. and we backed away as you cried. Enormous, breathless, wet, heaving sobs. We should have gone home. Speaker 1 (6:03) But we didn't. Speaker 1 (6:06) I was late. And you were crazy. and the train doors were open. Speaker 1 (6:14) And now I can't remember why I ever wanted to see you again, or what I was going to say when I caught up to you. On my left, a red neon light in a bodega window says nope. and I narrow my eyes against its irritating brightness. Speaker 1 (6:31) I step over a spattering of milky coffee that's running towards the curb. and something isn't right. Speaker 1 (6:39) Up ahead, the subway entrance beckons. Shiny. Rebuilt. the dust and the flames and the burnt flesh forgotten. Speaker 1 (6:51) You're already through the turnstile, and the train is pulling in. So I slip onto the platform through the emergency exit. It's clean and freshly painted here, but it smells putrid. and I think about the time I discovered an old wedge of cheese in the back of the fridge. I reach out to