Saturday, March 16th, 2013Edit
Okay, okay, this is pretty awesome. I can't believe I'm actually writing this here. I mean, I'm probably overreacting, but whatever. Don't worry, nobody dies in this story, and there's no blood, or gore, or anything like that... although I suppose that's what you came for, huh? Well, too bad. This is the story of a few signposts in a golf course. That simple. I guess the first time I saw the signposts was last year when we first came to the course. We don't go there for golf - me and my sisters - that is.
We go there in the winter because there's giant hills that are great for sledding there. Last year, I was there with my two sisters and my mom, when we noticed a few strange signposts nearby. Back then, there was only one signpost. The thing was held up by two wooden stakes in the ground, but the board that was supposed to say something was covered by a large, black, plastic bag. After a bit of inspection, we determined it was a garbage bag.
I wanted to rip the bag in two to discover what the sign said, but my sister advised against it, saying that it would be vandalism. I rolled my eyes and did as she instructed, knowing she was right, but my curiosity was too great to resist. I figured the bags must have been to protect the sign from the snow that fell each day, but still I went and ripped the bag in two. The sign it covered said nothing special. I think it was just the logo for the golf club that came here in the summer or something. Disappointed, I left with my family.
We came back a few times after that, but I never paid attention to the signs again. The next time we came, the sign that I had inspected had a brand new garbage bag placed over it, which I found somewhat odd because I was pretty sure the only people who came here in the winter were other families looking to sled down the hills. As far as I know, there is no caretaker or anything of the like stationed there.
Skip ahead one year, and here we are in winter again. At least, the very end of winter. Today, only about an hour ago, I came back from a really weird-ass experience. My sister and my mom are abroad, they have been for about a week. That leaves me, my other sister, and my dad. We decided to go sledding today since we were impossibly bored and it was almost the end of the March break, anyway.
My sister invited her friend, let's call her Sally, over to go sledding with us. At first, we wanted to go to the hill that was nearer to our house, but that would've required climbing over the fence in the back garden. The fence separated the back garden and a footpath that the golfers would use to get to their course. I was planning to take us to the same golf course, but simply a different hill. That hill didn't have any signposts.
My dad wouldn't have it. Our fence was one of those metal fences made of wire that aren't solid at all, and he didn't want us damaging it. Instead, he decided that he would drive us to the hill with the signposts. I really wish he'd just let us climb over the fence.
We got there, and all seemed normal. My dad left us there, and we agreed on a time of forty five minutes before he'd come back. My sister, Sally, and I made our way to the hill to begin our sledding. Upon arrival, we noticed that there were several ramps that had been built from snow by other families who came here to sled. Sally and I thought it would be fun to try them out, but my sister was not so eager.
I ended up getting a serious ass-ache from the ramps, of which there were several before getting to the foot of the hill. Sally was led astray by the ramps and almost hit a nearby tree, oh which there were many. Then, my sister gave it a go. She, being the lightweight little girl that she is, was hurdled upwards by the ramp and landed straight on her head. I was at the foot of the hill rubbing my ass when I noticed this, and began laughing hysterically while Sally rushed to her aid.
Now, take into consideration that my sister's pretty tough for a nine year old. She can fall flat on her face or get hit by a soccer ball in the gut, but she'd just end up laughing at the pain. This is why I expected the same reaction from her now. However, she just started crying. Immediately noticing that she was seriously hurt, I ran back up the hill to help her. She seemed alright, though she seemed kind of angry, which she hadn't been before. I assured her that she was fine, but she was just angry at the people who built these ramps, whoever they may be.
Suddenly, a slight rustle from behind me. Not like far away, but right behind me. I turned straight around, and for the first time since last year, I saw the signpost. The exact same one stood there, stoic as ever, garbage bag over its head. I turn back to attend to my sister, but she seems fine, and starts to walk off in... the direction of the signpost.
I was a little concerned, and asked her where she was going, and she replied she would no longer sled on this hill just to get another concussion. She led Sally and I to another hill that had been previously unseen due to the trees separating it from the hill with the ramps. As we walked past the signpost on our way to the next hill, I couldn't help staring at it. The garbage bag looked larger than last year's, and was tightly strapped to the board of the signpost with a thin rope.
When we got to the other hill, we forgot about the incident and began sledding again. After we'd had our fun, my sister said she'd found the footprint of something she didn't recognize in the snow. Another thing you should know is that she thinks that she's an expert of the wild or something, just because she's read a lot of nature books. While I joked with Sally, she was muttering something about having seen it somewhere before.
I halfheartedly suggested that it could be the footprint of a wolverine, just to scare the two girls. I'd seen the footprint of a wolverine before, and it wasn't nearly as big as the one before us, but they didn't know that. I told them about that time me and my neighbour went sledding, and he said he saw a wolverine in the distance. Mind you, the kid that thought he saw this was a six year old, so that was saying something. "Still," I mocked, "it would explain the tracks." It was then that I looked back at the signpost. It was still the same as ever.
Rustle. There was another small noise that sounded even closer this time, as if it was an inch away from my ear. Of course, it could have been the wind in the trees, but there were no trees so near to us that it would give off the effect of being right next to me. Sally and my sister didn't notice anything as I twirled around to find the source of the sound. Instead... there stood a signpost.
The signpost looked exactly the same as the original one, but the garbage bag on it was smaller, and looked like it was tied to the board with a thin thread. "Whoa," I muttered. How had I not seen this thing before? It was maybe twenty feet away from us, and was held up by identical-looking stakes.
I told Sally and my sister about this, and they seemed astonished, too. Neither of them had seen the damn signpost before. Now I was becoming suspicious. Note that I am a Creepypasta enthusiast, similarly to most of you, so I do tend to get paranoid. I told them that every time I heard that rustle, I noticed another signpost. My sister seemed disinterested and went back to pretending she was an expert on the outdoors, but Sally actually believed me. She said she had heard the same rustle right beside her. My heart almost leaped out of my chest. "Really?!" I said. She nodded and pointed to something far off. The road was not so far off, and near to it was, you guessed it, a signpost. I had never noticed this one either, even though I'd driven past that road with my parents many times.
This incident reminded me of something I'd seen before. Ever heard of "Doctor Who?" It's the longest running British sci-fi series. In one of the episodes, there were these weird alien statues of angels. They're called the Weeping Angels. Obviously, they're fictional, but here's the principal in the series: when you're not looking at them, if you even so much as blink, they move. When you're looking, though, they don't do anything. They're just statues. This scenario reminded me of this, because it seemed like the signposts had begun moving when we weren't looking. The signpost that I had noticed had moved slightly to the right. The one Sally had noticed still stood comfortably in its position behind a pair of trees.
Sally and I decided that if our father arrived to pick us up, he wouldn't see us because of the barrage of trees between the hill we were on and the parking lot nearby. Therefore, we took my sister and made our way back to the hill with the ramps, where our dad was supposed to be able to see us. Unfortunately, that meant passing the stupid signpost again. I was glad that we were getting away from the signpost I had noticed earlier, though. The fact that they looked like they had moved was actually the main reason why I really wanted to leave. The thought of the weeping angels was still stuck in my head as I made my way back up to the top of the ramp hill.
I heard a slight rustle behind me. Sally and I both jumped, looking at each other, we knew that we had both heard it. Naturally, another sign post that I had never noticed before stood behind us. Even my sister whirled around to see what had caught our attention, and remarked that she had never seen that signpost before either.
All three of us were royally freaked out now, so we gathered up the sleds that we had brought and started walking towards the parking lot. Halfway there, I realized that there was one sled I had forgotten to pick up, so I went back to collect it, asking Sally and my sister to watch my back. The closer I came to the sled I had to pick up, the more rustling I heard behind me. Probably just the wind, I stupidly told myself as I made my way towards the sled.
As soon as I touched the little round sled, all rustling ceased, and I made my way back to the two girls. By now, I was both freaked and excited. I mean, I had read and listened to so many Creepypastas, and I was under the illusion that I was living one. I'd read everything I would need to know to survive this sort of situation, but my sister hadn't. The three of us noticed a small shack near to where the last newly-noticed signpost stood.
The shack was wooden and seemed abandoned, so my sister decided to go and play over there, to collect more 'samples' or something. I had to follow her to make sure he didn't get lost or something, and I told Sally to keep an eye on the signpost, remembering the weeping angels. I kept an eye on my sister as Sally kept the signpost in her line of sight. For a slight moment, she looked at me to ask if we were done, and resumed her staring at the signpost.
It was then that she called for me to come and look. I did so, and stared at the signpost that was beginning to look more eerie every second. It had moved. Maybe by a foot, maybe two, but the damn thing had moved. I was now convinced we needed to leave. Telling Sally to keep an eye on the signpost, I went to the abandoned shack to collect my sister. Just as I was about to pull her away, she started walking quickly towards the parking lot. "Okay, we're leaving," she said. "I heard banging inside the shack. Like somebody coming down stairs." This was too weird because the old shack had no stairs.
Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, they didn't. Other people arrived. Another family of sledders. It felt great to have other people around, and then, minutes later, my dad could be seen coming in his Toyota van. Relieved, we quickly ran to him, deposited our sleds in the trunk, and told him what happened. Naturally, we presented it as a little joke, and he didn't believe us.
We want to keep this as a little secret between us from now on. The last I saw of the signs today was when we passed one by while leaving the golf course. Remember how I said the signpost Sally had noticed was near to the road that we always passed? That was the last one, and it was in a different position from before. Yup, it moved.
I'm going back there tomorrow. I know this is, like, the ideal way to get yourself killed in a Creepypasta, but this is real life. I'm gonna try and get some pictures of the signposts tomorrow, and maybe even a video, though I don't really want to expose us on camera. You're welcome to believe this or not.
Believe me, I wouldn't, and I'm pretty sure I'm just paranoid and delusional, and all that. I mean, isn't it kind of suspicious that I posted this on the Creepypasta wiki instead of, like, Facebook or Reddit or something? Hehe, well, whatever. See you all tomorrow.