Day 7 - Five-String Guitar & Supermarket Swamp Monster

Creepy

This episode of Creepy presents two distinct horror narratives: a tale about a haunted, self-playing five-string guitar that grants musical genius at a terrifying cost, and a

Key takeaways

• Elijah, a disillusioned musician, finds a pristine five-string guitar in his new home's underground studio that plays itself and produces flawless tones.
• Producer Bob pressures Elijah to modernize his sound but is initially captivated by the supernatural guitar's audio quality.

Main topics

• Haunted musical instruments
• Supernatural music studios

Notable quotes

"The lack of a first string was a little weird to him. But the amazing tone of the previous strings more than made up for it."

Conclusion

The episode delivers two atmospheric horror stories that blend psychol

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 7 Speaker 2 (0:13) No. Speaker 3 (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 2 (0:55) Thanks so much for that one, Jack. I think that's the first story I've heard with its own guitar accompaniment. Let's take a little break while we get the next story lined up. Speaker 1 (1:07) John, are you telling a story tonight? Speaker 2 (1:10) Me? Hell Speaker 1 (1:12) no, not Speaker 2 (1:13) after that. Speaker 1 (1:14) What? You have a bad incident with an acoustic guitar or something? Speaker 2 (1:19) Just about every college party I ever went to, yeah. But it's a little more of a precaution. Haven't you ever heard of the story about the five-string Speaker 3 (1:30) guitar? Speaker 2 (1:33) It was late in the afternoon when Elijah had finally finished lugging his possessions into his new home. This was his last chance, and he needed a new environment for inspiration. Speaker 3 (1:44) I've given Speaker 2 (1:44) you too Speaker 3 (1:45) many chances. Your shit doesn't Speaker 2 (1:47) sell. Speaker 3 (1:47) Give me a hit song or you're fired. Speaker 2 (1:50) His producer had lashed during their last discussion. Elijah hated his producer with a passion, and his reluctance to change his style in favor of record sales had to be overlooked if he wanted to keep a roof over his head. Elijah came from an era where great musicians could sell through sheer talent alone. But times were changing, and he was being left behind in favor of what he referred to as overproduced horseshit. He often found himself turning on the radio for inspiration, only to lose faith in the pursuit after hearing what people actually listened to. I can't make this trash. I refuse. Speaker 3 (2:29) He Speaker 2 (2:30) chanted to himself. But after settling down and thinking it through, he'd unenthusiastically flip the radio back on and get back to his chore. Elijah had come into this business with the hope that his creativity and personal expression could shine through. But after years of touring with the band and finally disbanding due to lack of income, He was now forced into the business of writing songs for the new, younger bands. Elijah despised the new generation, as they completely lacked the creativity and musicianship that originally propelled him to fame. Having someone else write a song for you was an embarrassment in his day, but now it seemed the norm. The music business was a disgusting beast, he thought. But he was already in the industry, and he couldn't stop now. After hours of relentless labor, Elijah pummeled into his couch, exhausted and unmotivated. His muscles ached and throbbed with every movement. After a few minutes of motionless thought, Elijah pulled himself to his feet to explore his new home. His tight schedule meant that he had not had a chance to even investigate his property before the purchase. But his producer had promised that the house was amazing, and that the previous owner, like him, was a songwriter and already had a studio installed. Red walls lined the hallways. Dusty shapes littered the walls from what Elijah imagined to be the location of the previous owner's paintings and posters. Nails still protruded from the empty spaces. It was clear that the man's belongings were quickly and harshly removed for the new owner. The house was considerably larger than he'd imagined, considering what he'd paid for it, and it seemed almost larger on the inside than it was on the outside. As he moved through the lengthy hallways, he stumbled upon a large, impressive hall, with a steel winding staircase leading into a basement area. Elijah assumed that this must have been where the studio was located. Eager to see the place he'd be spending most of his time in, he hurried towards the stairs. When he reached his destination, He glared in awe at how far down the stairs winded. His studio must be underground, he surmised. Elijah began to wonder how the previous owner could have possibly given this place up. It was simply the most amazing house he'd ever seen, and he couldn't imagine why someone could possibly leave. The producer said the man had just gone missing. The police explained without a doubt that there was no forced entry and no signs of struggle, so they assumed that the man had just moved on, leaving all his possessions behind. Why, Elijah couldn't even surmise. But he wasn't about to question the decision. He cautiously moved down the flight of cold stairs, clawing the railing as he descended into the darkness. The steel was sturdy and sleek, without a creak or vibration during his trek. As he reached the bottom, the light from the hall began to fade and he lost sight of where he was. After a few seconds of fumbling around in the dark, he happened upon a light switch and frantically flipped it on. It was a small, isolated room, with a single red door towering in front of him. An ominous chill ran up Elijah's spine, but he quickly got a hold of himself and moved toward the handle. The door seemed to call him in a way, and after pondering it in his head for longer than he realized, he began to hear faint notes coming from the room. Beautiful, echoing notes. Notes from what he thought had to be some sort of stringed instrument. Someone must have left the radio on, he thought, only to realize that he hadn't heard something so beautiful come out of a radio in what seemed like a decade. Speaker 2 (6:18) Overwhelmed with haunting curiosity, he cautiously moved toward the door. He reached for the gold, shining handle and slowly turned the knob. Suddenly, he came to the realization that someone could be inside there, playing the instrument. and he bashed open the door with the fury of his instincts and gazed into the room. It had to have been the most polished and intricate studio he'd ever seen. State-of-the-art microphones, tables, and computers littered the room. The moving guys must have completely missed the room, otherwise they would have taken everything. Elijah estimated that the room must have had thousands of dollars worth of equipment. After a few seconds of admiration, he quickly remembered why he'd come in the first place, and was startled to find that the music had stopped. The room was empty. Man, I really am losing it. He scoffed to himself and moved toward the equipment. Speaker 3 (7:13) To Speaker 2 (7:14) his surprise, the studio was still recording, as if the previous owner had just got up and left before he even stopped the recording. Speaker 2 (7:22) Elijah moved through Speaker 3 (7:23) the equipment with professional Speaker 2 (7:24) quickness, as years of experience had given him a mastery over the various knobs and buttons, and stopped the recording. Speaker 3 (7:31) Later, he Speaker 2 (7:32) decided, he'd go back through the days of recording to see if he could figure out some clues as to why the previous owner had left so quickly. But something else had caught his attention that seemed to pull his eyes and mind away. A white, gleaming guitar, still plugged in, lying on the floor near a fallen stool. Elijah quickly moved closer for further inspection. The craftsmanship was absolutely superb, and despite having the styling of a guitar from fifty years ago, the frets were completely fresh, and the strings showed no sign of wear. As he subconsciously examined the find, he quickly realized that something was off. He was so mesmerized by the design that he had not realized that the guitar was missing a string. Only five strings, ending with B. Even more interesting, the guitar seemed to be designed for six strings. Considering the empty spot on the neck for the final missing string, how would someone go through the trouble of making such an amazing guitar and then neglect the final string? More interesting, he questioned, why was the previous owner playing an incomplete guitar? Furthermore, the guitar had clearly been dropped, but it was still in perfect condition. Elijah, filled with even more questions, moved to grab the guitar. As his hand reached for the neck, the guitar seemed to glow even more than before, as if it were