Hello everybody, I hope that you're all doing well.

Today I'm about to take you into the darkest depths of horror.

I'm your host and Mr. Creep's and we'll be exploring the terrifying and macabre world of horror.

From a park ranger to a prison guard, we'll be diving into the most

bone-chilling tales that will keep you up at night. So, let's begin as we drift further into

Mr. Creep's mind. I found a journal from the 1800s. Its contents were disturbing, written by doomed to geek.

I started spending time at the Necropolis when my wife had left me.

Maya thought that we were doing fine. The passion of our younger days had burned

itself out, but wasn't that what happened in all marriages? And then, in a short, one-sided

conversation, I learned that she couldn't be with me anymore, that she was frustrated and angry

and felt at times like she was suffocating.

She told me this in the morning, and by early evening she was gone.

Over the days that followed, the house that we had shared felt cold and empty, and I started

to spend more time and more time away from it.

I sat in cafes, nursing a coffee for hours. I paced the streets and I discovered the necropolis.

It was on the eastern outskirts of my home city, not an area that I had ever had a reason

to go to before.

As I stood there that first time, looking around at the thousands of burial places, I thought

sadly how the city of the dead was a relic, abandoned long ago to fall into disarray.

The headstones of the graves that lay all around me were darkened and worn with age.

Some were broken and laying pieces on the ground with weeds growing all around.

I spent hours wandering in between them looking at the inscriptions on the

...