Trigger Warning: This story includes discussions of r*pe and child death. Scott receives a letter from himself. This Scott claims to be from another world. Soon, he will find out just how different that world really is. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Chapter 1: Who are the hosts and what is the story about?
Welcome back to Creepcast. How are you guys doing today? We are reading a story called, I wrote a letter to myself and I got a response. Got a response. Which if I wrote myself a letter, I would respond. I would say, you know what? Hey, nice to... I would carry a nice, pleasant conversation with myself. Is that because that's the only one who will write you back?
That is the only person that will write me back. And I'll tell you another person that will write me back are you guys about this new merch we're wearing. Merch. We got new merch. Beautiful new merch. Matching.
beautiful new merch it's the uh we're both wearing the eat me like a bug shirt it's beautiful like a bug we also got a long sleeve uh shirt as well where isaiah's the jeff goldblum i'm the tumor we have a beautiful crew neck we have a beautiful crew neck sweatshirt with a ghastly little ghost and then a nice pair of shorts because it's the springtime put out your legs
play ball, get out there, stay comfy. So just wanted to let y'all know, creepcast.store. Go there, grab some beautiful merch if you want to support the channel. And if you just want some new kicks, some new to look fresh, feel free. Also, for all of our audio listeners, thank you for... listening on Spotify and Apple Podcast.
If you haven't done that yet, please go to Apple Podcast or Spotify and check out Creepcast where you can give us a five-star rating there and listen on the audio. It helps us out a lot. Isaiah, who writes this beautiful, beautiful story?
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Chapter 2: Who is the author of 'I Wrote Myself A Letter, I Got A Response'?
This story is written by Veristal. Veristal, however you pronounce it. Veristal.
That sounds familiar.
Now, we have covered his work before. His real name is Brandon Faircloth. He has several different stories on Amazon, one of them being Roadside Sarcophagus, which I believe we shouted out last time. There's several more that will be linked in the description. Be sure to show Brandon some love.
Brandon has some stories that we've covered before, one of which being My Job is Watching a Woman Trapped in a Room. And I understand that Hunter and I had a bit of a crash out with that story. Okay.
Thomas, that's what I'm here to tell you. Things aren't like you think they are.
They never have been.
I need you to tone down the Valley Girl accent by like two notches.
Okay. Just a little bit.
Because I can tell, I can tell, I know you.
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Chapter 3: What happens when Scott receives a mysterious letter from himself?
I'm going to write this out so I'll have it all recorded, and also so I can wait a bit before having to go back in. It started when I was bored yesterday. The internet was out of my apartment, and after casting about for a couple of hours trying to read or do some cleaning, I was out of ideas to entertain myself. That's when I saw the box of stationery on my desk.
My Aunt Emma had given me the stationery as a birthday gift the week before, and there was nothing inherently wrong with such a gift. It was a box of high quality paper and envelopes personalized with my initials at the top of the sheets of paper and on the back fold of the envelopes. As a 20-year-old... Oh, sorry. As a 70-year-old man... I don't know why I said 20, whatever.
As a 70-year-old man, I would probably have thought that's... Okay, I don't know why I can't read all of a sudden. It's okay. The gift of, what is the, literacy. The gift of literacy has been taken from me. As a 70-year-old man, I would probably have thought they were the cat's pajamas. But as a 25-year-old man, not so much. But still, I was very bored.
So I sat down at my desk and started messing around with it. First, I tried writing as neatly and fancily as I knew how. My handwriting is horrible, and my best efforts looked like a slow fourth grader as opposed to a slower second grader, but it was something to do. Then I doodle a bit, but my drawing skills are equally lacking.
I was feeling myself getting drowsy, but then a thought occurred to me of what to do with the stationery. I'd write a letter to myself. It was a stupid idea, but I thought it was kind of funny too. So I took out a clean sheet of paper and set to work. Hey Scott, how are you today? My day is okay, if kind of boring. Christine's out of town visiting her parents and the internet's dead.
I have zero ideas of what to do with myself. This is lame. Goodbye. Sincerely, Scott. I just want to say right now, I've done, I've done shit like that before. Oh, yeah, like if the power's out or whatever, it's like, well, I guess it's time to set up a calendar for the year, even though I don't use paper calendars.
Yeah, it's like, or even just like writing something to myself in that way. I do that a lot in my sketchbooks. Just like writing some weird thing. I wouldn't even say it's note-taking. Sometimes it feels like a direct... Like trying to almost conversate with yourself in some weird way. I don't know. I'm just saying.
I'm curious if other people who are listening to this, if they've done something similar in some weird way.
Yeah, I've done strange stuff like that. I've left pranks for myself before. Like I've been on an old laptop. What does that even mean?
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Chapter 4: How does the story reveal the existence of a parallel world?
He's like, well, you'll probably meet Ken in a window goon. Two fucking simple-brained idiots, mouth-breathing assholes who... He's like, what am I even reading? What is this?
Imagine being so stupid that everyone cries and they hate you. And I'm like, wow, Rod Sterling. Thanks, Rod. I can almost picture it.
It's almost like it's my life every day.
Uh, where were we? The novelty. The novelty of the idea had clearly worn off quickly, but I did fold it up and stick it in an envelope at least, even going so far as to address the letter to myself. Standing up from the table with a sigh, I laid down and fairly soon I was fast asleep. When I woke up, it was early evening, and the room was only dimly lit by the fading twilight outside.
I reached over and turned on my bedside lamp, blinking blearily at its brightness. I hated taking naps. I always felt groggy afterwards and had trouble sleeping later in the night. Rubbing my eyes, I rolled discontinuously onto my side and began getting up. When my eyes slid upon my desk, I sat back down. The envelope with the letter I had written was different now.
It was in a different spot for one, but I could tell from the bed that it was also a different color and looked like it had a small stain in one corner. Standing up and going to my desk, I looked at the envelope closer before picking it up. My name and address was still on the front, but hadn't I written it smaller and more sitter than that?
Regardless, the envelope itself was definitely different. So clearly, I hadn't written this at all. My next thought was that someone had come into my apartment to either prank me or try and scare me. The obvious answer was Christine. It didn't really seem like something she would do, but she was the only other person with a key.
After I'd had a quick sweep at the apartment for intruders, I texted her. She swore she was still half a state away and even sent me a picture as proof. She also seemed worried and asked if I called the cops, but I wasn't to that point yet. I needed to look inside the envelope first.
I pried it open carefully and peeked inside, seeing a light blue piece of paper that matched the envelope and was wholly different than the cream-colored paper I'd used earlier in the afternoon. When I unfolded it, I was surprised to see it really did look like my handwriting, but it wasn't the same letter. It seemed to be responding to mine.
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Chapter 5: What disturbing events happen after Scott receives the letters?
Yeah, yeah, 100%. That's where this is going. He's going to try to swap with him. He talked about everyone from his world got super violent, and it's getting better now. It did not. He is still super violent. Yeah, well, yeah, definitely. It is. Yeah, well, this can only go in good directions, I'm sure.
I will say, with the red pill angle, you have piqued my interest. Oh, that makes you like the story? No, no, no. Not like it, but I'm like, okay. I didn't know we were going to be dropping some fucking whores here, dude. Yeah, yeah. Just like the hard, hard W. Have we had a MGTOW story yet?
We've made jokes about characters together. I don't think it's literally an incel horror story. I think it's just like everyone's hyper violent in the world.
Well, yeah, I know. I'm just saying it was just, yeah. I mean, have we?
Maybe. I don't know. I feel like we have. I feel 100% like we have. I barely fucking remember any of the things. I know because you hate any time that you spend with me and you can't stand my company or presence. I understand. And you're just my friend for the show. You've made that clear several times off camera that you want nothing to do with me aside from this. Thank you. Hold on.
Let me look at my page. Maybe we, I mean, there's David King.
Yeah, I mean, I guess David King is probably pretty red pill coated, whatever. It's whatever. Just keep going. I'm hooked in. You're waking up a little bit. I'm feeling it in my bones.
Yep, it's good.
We'd like to take a minute to thank our sponsor for this video, Rocket Money. You could spend so much time trying to cancel subscriptions. I hate it. They make it hard on purpose because they know if you get frustrated, you'll just give up and keep paying for the service. Well, today's sponsor, Rocket Money, is here to help.
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Chapter 6: Who is 'Not Scott' and what is his agenda?
She's a hot one. Better than mine, even. But I can tell she has those same slutting ways. Oh, my gosh. What'd I tell you? I said incel horror film. Whoa, whoa, you were right. Incel horror film. Bear trap. Oh. You were right. She's a hot one. Better than mine, even.
But I can tell she has those same slutting ways. It's in the eyes. But don't you worry. She'll find less tolerance for that over here. And I'll be sure to keep her corrected. Don't bother trying to come across either, bud. I figured out how to do it. But I'm going to have to keep it close to my vest. I have to apologize for not being completely honest before.
Things are worse here than I let on. Maybe this Christine can keep me happy and satisfied with my life. But who's to say? Like I told you, some people are really losing it over here. Might be I have to come visiting again sometime. More permanently. Tell then, glory and peace, or as you would say, sincerely, Scott. Oh, no. Every implication is horrible.
The implications are heavy. That's pretty rough, dude.
That's uncomfy. As I'm finishing writing this, I dread going back into that room. I know I have no way of getting her back, and I know I can't have her blood being found in my apartment. Even without hard evidence, there will be questions when she's reported missing, but all of that is in the background at the moment. I can't shake the feeling of being watched.
I look around and see no one, but then I notice the dingy brass door of the elevator across the hall from where I'm sitting. The reflection there is dark and distorted, but I can still see myself in it, or at least a version of myself. It looks like me, but I can tell that it isn't. because that version of me is laughing.
That is the end of part one. A little part five series. I will say, ramped up. It's a little bit of rough pumpkins, I'll be honest. We're getting a little in there. I will say, I think it's interesting, the idea of parallel... Parallel worlds. You know, it kind of reminds me of is that a VHS short where the guy opens that portal between worlds.
I was thinking the same thing. Yeah. And he goes over there and it's like, it's a demon worshiping.
Yeah.
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Chapter 7: What is the significance of the portal and the paper door in the story?
Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
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Chapter 8: How does the story explore themes of identity and danger in a parallel dimension?
Well, it makes it more compelling, I think.
It does, yeah.
Well, I don't know if I feel like that's, like, there's obviously something odd that happened to where all dogs died or something, but it almost just feels like... I think it just means animals are wiped out. Yeah, it's like just a fucking weird dystopian future or something or parallel, yeah.
It reminds me of The Road.
Yeah, yeah. It feels like that world. That's why it almost feels like it's... I still don't know if I'm thinking creatures as much as just like, you know, I mean like fucking homeless gangs or like... new barbaric tribes are forming in cityscapes.
The next few days were a cycle of sleeping, eating, and trying to figure out the best way to escape and where exactly I would be escaping to. Last part was primarily facilitated by Not Scott. He spent hours each day talking to me, seemingly starved for conversation and human contact.
He had some kind of job, and depending on something he called occurrence reports, he would be gone working for periods of time most days. But whenever he was there, he was usually talking to me. He would tell me stories about himself sometimes, but a lot of his time was spent asking me questions. What was my childhood like? What had my life been like before he took me?
What kind of things did I like to do, like to eat, etc.? It was all so strange. He had this aura of discord and violence around him, so palpable the air fairly vibrated with minutes when he was in the room. But he was never rough or even rude to me, aside from the obvious of holding me against my will. It was made stranger because parts of him did remind me of my Scott.
The way his face would light up when he was telling a story, or the way he would look at me sometimes when he didn't know I was looking. It somehow made it all worse instead of better. Seeing those glimpses is something I love for being choked to death by whatever sickness had taken root in him. I tried to find out more about the world I was in from him, and he told me some, but not much.
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