Gladefree, Florida

Life hasn’t been all too great since the first post I made, when I investigated Photonegative Mickey and Room Zero’s origins. I think I’m going insane, to be honest, but those damned silhouettes keep appearing everywhere now.
Yesterday, I stopped by the store. The store had ran out of my preferred brand of milk; Hiland Dairy, so I selected a new one. I go up to the counter, to see an odd sight.
The clerk’s name tag had a sticker of Mickey Mouse on it. But what struck even odder to me was what she said.
“Trying a new brand, are we? Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”
Obviously enough, that’s a dead giveaway. But I was shocked a little worse when I discovered what happened at my house.
I walked into the living room, and a stench of dead creatures invaded my nose almost instantly. I stepped in… and on something.
Looking down, I found it was a decapitated mouse. But not just one; about a half a dozen of them were strewn all over the place. The heads were strewn about as well, and I looked to the side in disgust…
To find another silhouette on my wall, drawn in mouse blood. The same three circles; two little, and one big.
But, if Disney thinks this will stop me, they’re dead wrong. I’m a journalist; this is what I do. And I have more of their corporate secrets to publicize.
Now I’ll start. Just off the coast of Florida, the east coast specifically, there is a small tropical island. By small, I mean roughly 20 square miles, give or take. It has its own zip code, and is a registered city with the state of Florida. It’s known as Gladefree.
The thing is, it’s not a city. It’s a massive abandoned super-park, built by yours truly, the Disney Corporation. And the best part is, it isn’t even complete.
Disney shut off all construction for it back in 2010. Fairly recent it may be, but nonetheless. Disney blamed it on shipping and construction costs, proclaiming the risks outweighed the benefits. They wiped out all trace of it on the internet, leaving only certain locals on the east coast of the state knowing about it. Of course, we all know this is a crock of shit.
The super park was going to contain community districts for employees to stay in houses, thousands of rides, hotels, VIP areas, and even other businesses. It was basically a park city, and was even going to do “trade treaties” with other businesses and corporations; the business would host a shop there, in exchange for giving Disney a 50% portion of the profit they made on the island. Generally, they would have generated millions, if not billions, of dollars of revenue from per year, much more than it took to build it.
I made contact with several people about the park, but we’ll only concentrate on a few.
“Contractor” was one of the many construction workers who worked on the project. It was going to contain restaurants, hotels, and even rental car lots in order to traverse the various districts of the island. The workers worked for years on end: from 2005 to the year the construction ended. But he said something to me that immediately struck me as odd.
He told me that in the middle of the blueprint Disney had given him for the entire island (which was one out of over 200 blueprints, up to five per each individual district, not accounting for the blueprints on the buildings themselves) there was a massive blank square. He didn’t question it; at least, at first. But as he looked through individual blueprints for other districts, he found the district in question.
The district in question was a no-tourist zone. It was going to be surrounded by a barbed wire fence; which in the case of Disney, is never good. However, the inside of the blueprint was completely blank.
The area had already been cleared of the tropical trees and things, so it struck a chord with him. He decided to do one of the things the Corporation told him not to: Go inside of the fence.
The fence had not yet been fully constructed, so he was able to walk into the area. He took a flashlight, in case he wasn’t going to be back before night fall. When he walked inside, there was nothing but cleared trees, and ashes from incinerations that had gone on earlier. So he decided to keep walking.
About three miles in, he discovered a valve door. It was rusted halfway to hell and back, so no matter what he did, he couldn’t get it to open.
Ironically enough, nothing happened to him after he attempted to open the valve. It was surprising to me, considering Disney’s history of abandoned parks and supernatural entities inhabiting said abandoned parks. The only thing that happened was him telling another person about it.
Afterwards, I made contact with “Veteran;” or rather, he made contact with me. Veteran proclaimed that he knew what was on the island, and what lay under the valve door. I immediately went to ask questions.
Veteran is by no means young. He is admittedly old and frail, but he served in the military. And he proclaimed to be stationed on the exact same island that Disney was building the park on.
Veteran told me that under the valve door was a secret military operation. The government had sanctioned a new weapon, using varying genetic mutations on human beings. They held a varying number of experiments; everything from super strength to upping the sound level of a voice until it was so highly pitched, it would blow a person’s head off.
Only one succeeded. But the issue was, he refused to speak of it, telling me only that even in the end, it had failed in some ways.
It had escaped.
But someone else did tell me about it. Remember the person Contractor talked to?
“Worker” was your classic, run of the mill, redneck, blue collar construction guy. He was a good friend of Contractor’s, working with him on a daily basis. Physically, he was almost twice as strong.
Almost two years after Contractor’s original trip, he decided to investigate himself. Worker found the valved door, and managed to open it with a little extra pressure.
He turned his flashlight on, and traveled into the darkened halls of the facility. He walked down the hallway, hearing and seeing nothing but rusted doors and collapsed areas. Occasionally, he would see a roach or two. He told he carried a paper and pen with him, and would jot down the trail as he went along, to keep from getting lost.
But about twenty or so minutes after he entered, he found himself creeped out.
Worker told me he kept feeling and hearing breathing up and down his neck. But when he would turn around, nothing would be there. He chocked it up to mere paranoia and went on.
That is, until he found a certain room. He walked into it, shining the flashlight all over. Inside were the most cliché of science fiction objects; aborted fetuses in jars of gunk, plants under broken UV lights, bloody syringes and knives, etc.
He stopped shining the flashlight, and put it back in front of him. And what he saw scarred him for life.
In front of him stood some form of skin colored creature, with sunken in eyes, no nose or lips. It stared at him unblinking, then spoke.
“You like Disney, son? I do too. My favorite character is Goofy! I can look like him too, see!”
Right afterward, the creature began pulling at its skin, pulling it and molding it in every way possible. Worker tells me he heard the most disgusting sounds; skin, bones, and fleshy tendrils of muscle moving all the wrong directions as the creature molded itself.
He wanted to vomit. But he held it in, shocked at the sight he was witnessing.
The creature finished, looking like a skin colored Goofy, only far more disturbing. His teeth, which were barely connected, were bleeding a light red blood down his chin. Skin that was barely molded hung and flapped around, squishing repetitively. The vest that Goofy usually wore was barely replicated; the “vest” was nothing but a compilation of the creature’s various muscles and vestiges.
His normal eyes were in the “pupil” of the bulging, flapping skin that constituted Goofy’s eyes. His nose hung down, and had accidentally torn, leaving more blood pouring down. This didn’t seem to affect the creature.
“Ta Da! Wanna see more?”
Worker told me it didn’t take him long to run. He ran as fast as he possibly could, not looking back for the creature that was behind him. He rushed back through the valve door and to the camp, not giving any of it a second thought.
But that wasn’t why Disney cancelled construction. They cancelled construction because Worker forgot to do one thing: he forgot to close the door.
Right as Disney was going to let people in, that thing had gotten out.
Category:Fanfiction
Category:Creepypasta